Faves Roundup

Today as I was using the equipment at the new job (still love it!) I got to thinking about how foreign all these object seemed to me at first, and now they're second nature. Though they have some at the GreatRep which are new to me as well (when I saw "nosey cup" on the dining room protocol list, I thought "WTF??"). Turns out they're cups with a cutout for your nose so you don't have to tilt your head back at all to drink from them. They're good for people who can't/won't tilt their heads and can't/won't drink from straws. See:


The things I'm listing as faves are mostly for in-home use, though you can have them in facilities too, especially in a family member's apartment or room.

For mobility challenged (if someone is missing a leg, or just plain getting old, or whatever):
This is my favorite kind of bathtub/shower bench. I like it because when you put it in a bathtub, it sticks out onto the regular floor so that all someone has to do is back up to it, sit down, and you can swing their legs up and into the tub after they're seated. Then you tuck the shower curtain around it, and use a handheld shower nozzle to wash them. To be extra nice, put down a hand towel so it's not cold on their bare hiney.

Also for mobility challenged people, this seems really simple but it's awesome if they can't bend down very well; it's just a little half tube with a rope on it, and you put the sock on it, then drop it on down, slide the foot into the sock, and pull it up. I had a lady with a recent leg amputation who used this so she could put on her sock without falling over, and I was amazed by how much easier it made her days!

For incontinence, if you have somewhere you can put it safely so that no one will get into it and hurt themselves (it really doesn't get hot, but it's an electric appliance that involves moisture) a wipe warmer is great. That's always the worst part of changing and toileting someone, especially in the middle of the night - coming in, taking off their warm blankets, and then swabbing them down with a cold wipe; no wonder they get mad! These are made for baby wipes but you can put washcloths in them as well, for cleaning hands and faces, or if you're earth friendly enough to use washcloths for pericare.

Also for incontinence, washable cloth waterproof pads are a must for beds. They're sturdy enough to last a long time and are strong enough to use to reposition people once they're lying down.

Last incontinence thing: Bag Balm. For barrier cream. Seems to work the very best, I don't know why. It's cheap, too!

Specifically for people with Alzheimer's/Dementia: a picture phone. You program it and put little photos on the buttons so that when they want to call someone, all they do is pick up the phone and push the picture of who they want to speak to. I think it amplifies the sound too, so they can hear you better.

Ta da! My favorite home medical care products. I don't have any specific brands to recommend, aside from Bag Balm. Also, if you need some of the durable equipment, your county might have a medical equipment bank. Mine does, and I'm sure it's a big help. It's also a good place to get rid of crutches, wheelchairs, shower chairs, etc. that you don't need anymore, if you've got them cluttering up your house.

Neglect

I see some weird situations in my line of work. Families who get up in arms about every little thing (such as how many fun-sized candy bars in the "for staff" dish are being eaten daily) and families who are almost impossible to get a hold of so we end up improvising mightily to try to get the resident's needs met. Old people who insist on wearing multiple pairs of underwear, or none at all. People who swear up and down that they lost a box of puppies, or that I work for the railway.

But the weirdest and saddest thing I see is neglect.

We got a new resident this weekend at my facility, who apparently was moved in by his private caregiver, to whom he pays the ungodly amount of $4,000 per month. Caregiver dropped him off and then took the weekend off. The marketing director at my facility apparently thought this was okay, even though she did the intake interview (not the director of nursing, which is who should have been given the opportunity to assess him before he moved in) and should have known that he cannot walk unassisted AT ALL. This is her job. To find out if people are a good match for what we can offer them, and to be sure they will be cared for adequately if they move in with us. She didn't do that. She failed, completely, at her job in this case.

So, since he was supposedly independent and his caregiver took off, this poor man spent the night in his armchair, peeing into a cup when he needed to pee. In the morning he tried to get up, and fell. Was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, and was readmitted to our facility and now suddenly needs to be on assistance. So I'm in his room, trying to figure out what stinks of urine (everything) and how I'm going to get this man cleaned up. His daughters have flown in from another state, horrified at the situation. They're in there, and I'm giving them a shopping list (waterproof bed pads, vinegar, briefs, hernia belt, etc.) and directions on how to get to the stores that sell this stuff.

The marketing director, who, along with the criminally neglectful "caregiver", created this mess, comes breezing in and pulls me into the other room to tell me to "call him Sir" rather than Mr. So-and-So, which I was doing. Then, as if to soften that blow, mouths "Don't worry, you're doing a good job" to me.

Oh. Hell. No.

Normally I appreciate hearing thanks or validation about my work. I love it when my residents say "Thank you so much honey" and give me hugs when I tuck them into bed. It makes me a little teary when they say "I'll miss you, doll, come say goodnight if you have a chance before you go home. Drive carefully!". This is a job where I feel I am making a difference every single day. And I love that.

But do I need validation from this woman who created a situation where the Director of Nursing's BEST option was to let this man fall so his family would see he needs help from sane people? No, no, no, I do not.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I fantasized about putting his filthy blankets in her office and suggesting that she wash them for Sir. Or tossing her the most disgusting hernia support belt I've ever seen in my life and watching her catch it with bare hands. Or telling her to brush this man's teeth, which were so discolored at this point, I won't even tell you what it looked like when I finally did get him to let me clean them.

What I do is difficult. And I don't need any fake-ass "compliments" from people who just don't get it, even if they work in eldercare and should know better.

And this poor man's "caregiver"? The family is prosecuting her. So my new resident is being cared for, and the person that neglected him is caught. Now that's a happy ending in my book. Though I may still have to find a way to put something disgusting in the marketing director's office ... and then tell her what a good job she's doing while she cleans it up.

First Day

Although I'm a nursing aide now, I consider my first day in the medical world to be my first day as a caregiver for elderly folks. At the time, working at CareCo* was just an in-between job, to hold me over until I found something better in social services. After all, I'd taken care of my own grandparents, and one set of dentures is the same as another, right?

After a short training video and a background check, I was on my way to the Golden Gables* retirement campus to meet my first clients, a couple in their 80's named Ginny and Peter Smith **. My Brand New Boss Betty was to meet me there and introduce me to the Smiths, then I would come in and keep them company, maybe tidy up the house a bit, prepare some supper, see them safely into bed, and be on my way. Sounds simple, right?

Only when I pulled into the driveway of their Golden Gables Duplex, Betty hopped out and said "Mr. Smith had a fall, you know how to get to Sacred Heart's ER*, right?". When I shook my head no, startled, she hopped back into her car, calling "Follow me!". Shortly, there I was in an ER exam room with Betty and the Smiths, both of whom looked impossibly skinny, wrinkled, and helpless. Betty handed me the client book with all their info in it, said "Good Luck! Stay with Mr. Smith until he's either sent home or admitted, and then take Mrs. Smith home. She has dementia, so be sure you remember how to get there, because she won't be able to tell you. I'll talk to you tomorrow to figure out your schedule for the week." and walked out the door.

I faced the two people I was now responsible for, wondering what the hell I was supposed to be doing. Over the next few hours, I tried to make polite conversation with Ginny, and keep her and Peter from bothering the nursing staff too much. I tried to distract Ginny to keep her away from Peter long enough that he could have a bowel movement in private in the exam room, in some toilet contraption I'd never seen one of before. And finally, when Peter was admitted, I took Ginny home to her Golden Gardens Duplex that was anything but golden inside; they had a small dog, a cat, and a bird, all of which defecated EVERYWHERE due to neglect. Overwhelmed, I picked up the worst of the poop with my CareCo provided disposable gloves, and sat on the couch with Ginny watching television until the poor woman who was taking over for me arrived.

And astonishingly enough, I went back the next day, and the next. And now, almost a year later, I not only know that toilet contraption is a bedside commode, but how to get someone on and off of one, and how to clean it out when they're done. Without even gagging.



Until next time,
Pollyanna


*not the real name
**also not their real names. Nothing in here will be named by real names, so I'll quit it with the footnotes from here on out.
*** okay, one more, I couldn't resist - who else is a Scrubs fan here?