--- So glad it's you.
Sometimes we all need some validation. Am I as good a person as I believe myself to be?
Have I succeeded in my goal of being a decent sort? Am I doing my job with excellence?
Am I diligent and dedicated? Or merely dogged?
Alot of HealthCare professionals and para-professionals forget to validate each other. Perhaps I would be one of them if not for some very good training by my battle-axe Nursing Instructor. I drank in every word she said thirstily, understanding that her decades of experience counted for __much__ where I knew little.
It can be hard to find nice things to say to some people who may not measure up to my expectations of what I believe their job to be, but knowing I likely do not measure up to theirs either, I can always find something to say of a positive nature.
A woman I work with at a difficult assignment noticably tenses while we work. She told me after we finished and had exited the home that she did not think our client liked her much, and that she believed he liked me only a little more. I knew that. He can't stand either one of us. He likes little and cute women who flirt with him to do his care. He does not like strong women who do their job capably and without his input. He needs to keep control of something. It does not bother me much as I know that next year I will not be going to this gentleman as he will be in other realms. As long as I am not the one in the wheelchair I can afford to be gracious. I kill them with kindness. Sometimes I almost choke on it but I do it anyway. It is an important thing for me to do. To be kind. To always be kind. To always be a little kinder than necessary.
Believe me, humble pie is not my favoured dish on the menu.
26.4.07
24.4.07
The Gay 90's
This is the day that everyone on my rotation is in their 90s.
It is rather affirming to see people that age doing well. Happily living in their own homes.
Just requiring minimal assistance with a few basic tasks.
Client 1 was 97
Client 2 93
Client 3: 94
Client 5 : an incredibly good looking 96.
Client 6: 93.
A great way to look at it is this:
One of our former clients lives on in a facility at the grande age of 109. She turns 110 very soon. That means that 30 years ago she was about to turn 80- an age that many people consider to be a great one.
Sobering no?
And best of all she is a healthy 110 to be. She has 90% of her marbles.
She lost some hearing and her knees are shot but mostly she is a sassy smart self-actualised old lady. Go girl go!
----------
Do not resent growing olde: Most are denied the privilege.
It is rather affirming to see people that age doing well. Happily living in their own homes.
Just requiring minimal assistance with a few basic tasks.
Client 1 was 97
Client 2 93
Client 3: 94
Client 5 : an incredibly good looking 96.
Client 6: 93.
A great way to look at it is this:
One of our former clients lives on in a facility at the grande age of 109. She turns 110 very soon. That means that 30 years ago she was about to turn 80- an age that many people consider to be a great one.
Sobering no?
And best of all she is a healthy 110 to be. She has 90% of her marbles.
She lost some hearing and her knees are shot but mostly she is a sassy smart self-actualised old lady. Go girl go!
----------
Do not resent growing olde: Most are denied the privilege.
20.4.07
Standing down
It has been a wonderful few weeks. After so many things that taxed my energy reserves, a little sun peeked through. Basking in the beams, I am unwinding and relaxing. MMMmmmm.
I love my life.
I love my life.
9.4.07
In Which I Scare Children and other small animals
So few are the people in my inner circle, their preciousness is beyond all measure.
No one is more important to me than my beloved evil twin.
My errant brother came to visit this weekend.
I love my brother. I want him near me. No matter what happens in life I want my brother to be there.
Evil twins being what they are, we would always support each other no matter what. Alas time and injury have taken from me what perhaps he could most wish to have --- hours in my presence. My days of work are just that. Work and a few hours in which I try to interact a little before crashing. Altho he knew I have the parasomnia thing going on this weekend was his first up close and personal experience.
Apparantly my eyes roll back in my head and my speech is garbled.... almost unintelligible and I stand staring at something invisible. A pretty picture. Apparantly the dog stays well away from me at these times.
Hearing this at dinner in a restaurant in front of other family was difficult.
But on the positive side, it takes the pressure off him. I am the official git of my clan.
When you are grafted from a tree that produces nuts, I suppose it is unrealistic to expect to wake up a cherry blossom.
No one is more important to me than my beloved evil twin.
My errant brother came to visit this weekend.
I love my brother. I want him near me. No matter what happens in life I want my brother to be there.
Evil twins being what they are, we would always support each other no matter what. Alas time and injury have taken from me what perhaps he could most wish to have --- hours in my presence. My days of work are just that. Work and a few hours in which I try to interact a little before crashing. Altho he knew I have the parasomnia thing going on this weekend was his first up close and personal experience.
Apparantly my eyes roll back in my head and my speech is garbled.... almost unintelligible and I stand staring at something invisible. A pretty picture. Apparantly the dog stays well away from me at these times.
Hearing this at dinner in a restaurant in front of other family was difficult.
But on the positive side, it takes the pressure off him. I am the official git of my clan.
When you are grafted from a tree that produces nuts, I suppose it is unrealistic to expect to wake up a cherry blossom.
8.4.07
Not the best day today either....
MHC: 6:1-7 Those are looked upon as doing well for themselves,
who do well for their bodies; but we are here told what their ease is,
and what their woe is.
Here is a description of the pride, security, and sensuality, for which God would reckon.
Careless sinners are every where in danger; but those at ease in Zion, who are stupid, vainly confident, and abusing their privileges, are in the greatest danger.
Yet many fancy themselves the people of God, who are living in sin, and in conformity to the world. But the examples of others' ruin forbid us to be secure.
Those who are set upon their pleasures are commonly careless of the troubles of others, but this is great offence to God. Those who placed their happiness in the pleasures of sense, and set their hearts upon them, shall be deprived of those pleasures. Those who try to put the evil day far from them, find it nearest to them.
who do well for their bodies; but we are here told what their ease is,
and what their woe is.
Here is a description of the pride, security, and sensuality, for which God would reckon.
Careless sinners are every where in danger; but those at ease in Zion, who are stupid, vainly confident, and abusing their privileges, are in the greatest danger.
Yet many fancy themselves the people of God, who are living in sin, and in conformity to the world. But the examples of others' ruin forbid us to be secure.
Those who are set upon their pleasures are commonly careless of the troubles of others, but this is great offence to God. Those who placed their happiness in the pleasures of sense, and set their hearts upon them, shall be deprived of those pleasures. Those who try to put the evil day far from them, find it nearest to them.
7.4.07
Living in the Country (hee-haw!)
Once upon a year or so, I lived in the country. My city friends chortled at the idea and my new neighbours and acquaintences always seemed amused by me and my *city ways*. Left to my own devices in the Country, likely I would starve to death unless there was a grocery store within walking distance. Camping and tenting gets the same enthusiastic yawn from me. No thanks. Send my bags on to the nearest Hotel.
When my travels take me to certain Postal Codes, I have to do deep breathing as I drive into the hinterland. Deep deep breaths, in..... out...... in..... out.....
There is one particular postal code that seems to have a lock on colourful folk. An iron-clad lock with a Chinese puzzlebox around it. Yesterday I was off out and about to that very place. Trepidaciously, I searched for the address. Right road.... right side on road..... no driveway.
It was reachable only from the next street down a little trail marked with a miniature sign stating the address. The trail was overgrown as was the grass surrounding the house. Oh, the house. It was faded clapboard and has grimy windows. Just as an added bonus I had to enter past a cat litterbox with a few very fragrant items in it. A cat, a big black fat cat. Alas, my allergies kicked in immediatly and my little blue puffer made it's first appearance.
My client was sitting at her kitchen table. The table was surrounded by boxes and magazines and letters, cards, shiny things, more shiny things, and yet more shiny things. The window ledges were littered 1/2 inch deep with the corpses of flies, and other things. Mice droppings were evident. Cobwebs everywhere. And at the table sitting straight backed like a Queen was my client. Her hair was most definitly unwashed and her clothes were stained. She had her own teeth and she was mid-bite of some toast with cheese. She declined my offer of a plate.
"Did they tell you how old I am?"
No, they did not but thanks to the new fancy dancy labels the client birthdate is on everything.
1910.
I looked at her expectant face and said:
"According to this book here you are about to turn 97! Congratulations!"
She was delighted to be talking to someone who applauded her decision to live in her own home.
I also noticed a faded diploma hanging above the fridge. This woman was a Public health nurse.
When I asked her where she had Nursed she told me she was in charge of a REGION.
I had to smile. It is unlikely this woman realises how much filth surrounds her but it is equally unlikely anyone can tackle her decades of collections with her consent. The best to hope for would be a friend taking her away for a day or 5 and a cleaning service coming in to clean.
I can also tell you with complete conviction that it will never happen.
That woman will either die in her sleep in her home, living the way she chooses, OR:
she will fall and break something and live out her days in extended care somewhere.
Either way, not bad for 97. Hygeiene aside of course..
When my travels take me to certain Postal Codes, I have to do deep breathing as I drive into the hinterland. Deep deep breaths, in..... out...... in..... out.....
There is one particular postal code that seems to have a lock on colourful folk. An iron-clad lock with a Chinese puzzlebox around it. Yesterday I was off out and about to that very place. Trepidaciously, I searched for the address. Right road.... right side on road..... no driveway.
It was reachable only from the next street down a little trail marked with a miniature sign stating the address. The trail was overgrown as was the grass surrounding the house. Oh, the house. It was faded clapboard and has grimy windows. Just as an added bonus I had to enter past a cat litterbox with a few very fragrant items in it. A cat, a big black fat cat. Alas, my allergies kicked in immediatly and my little blue puffer made it's first appearance.
My client was sitting at her kitchen table. The table was surrounded by boxes and magazines and letters, cards, shiny things, more shiny things, and yet more shiny things. The window ledges were littered 1/2 inch deep with the corpses of flies, and other things. Mice droppings were evident. Cobwebs everywhere. And at the table sitting straight backed like a Queen was my client. Her hair was most definitly unwashed and her clothes were stained. She had her own teeth and she was mid-bite of some toast with cheese. She declined my offer of a plate.
"Did they tell you how old I am?"
No, they did not but thanks to the new fancy dancy labels the client birthdate is on everything.
1910.
I looked at her expectant face and said:
"According to this book here you are about to turn 97! Congratulations!"
She was delighted to be talking to someone who applauded her decision to live in her own home.
I also noticed a faded diploma hanging above the fridge. This woman was a Public health nurse.
When I asked her where she had Nursed she told me she was in charge of a REGION.
I had to smile. It is unlikely this woman realises how much filth surrounds her but it is equally unlikely anyone can tackle her decades of collections with her consent. The best to hope for would be a friend taking her away for a day or 5 and a cleaning service coming in to clean.
I can also tell you with complete conviction that it will never happen.
That woman will either die in her sleep in her home, living the way she chooses, OR:
she will fall and break something and live out her days in extended care somewhere.
Either way, not bad for 97. Hygeiene aside of course..
4.4.07
2.4.07
The Relief Settles In
Neglecting my blog is surely not usual for me.
Neglecting my lovely Arda is even less so.
Relief has settled upon me as I have a six month reprieve against further invasive things done to my own dear self.
The sleeps have been very deep.
The naps frequent.
The tiredness still not quite dispelled.
I shall return. I know it.
Just, not quite yet.
Neglecting my lovely Arda is even less so.
Relief has settled upon me as I have a six month reprieve against further invasive things done to my own dear self.
The sleeps have been very deep.
The naps frequent.
The tiredness still not quite dispelled.
I shall return. I know it.
Just, not quite yet.
1.4.07
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
