The class that I’d chosen somehow managed to cram an absurd amount of information into two weeks. That might seem like an appropriate amount of time considering the qualifications of an aide on the floor, but those two weeks don’t cover everything you’ll experience. The class only covers the technical side of what you’ll do and it mentions nothing of the anger, hurt, abandonment, the listlessness and longing of the people you take care of. It doesn’t teach you how to comfort someone with severe dementia who just moved wards and have no clue where they're at...or even how to console someone that just lost their husband who slept in the next bed over.
I didn’t even know the depth of the work I was doing until much later, though. I made it through my class with flying colors and I passed my test with a top score. The entire experience of going through the class was nerve racking. Trying to make it to class on time with the style of life I was living was next to impossible, but it was mandatory. I found myself racing well past the speed limits each morning to make attendance. Id become an expert in making a 20-minute drive turn into an 8-minute drive. I'm amazed at how few officers are actually posted around my town at 6 in the morning.
Once my classes and test were completed, I started working in the RSN facility on the floor with the patients I’d cared for during my clinicals. I was also working a morning shelf-stocker shift at an art supplies store, so I took a part time position at RSN facility doing morning shift. Morning shift nearly killed me. I’ve never been a morning person and working mornings in RSN facility required the ability to keep your eyes open and think, neither of which I was capable of at the time of day. About 4 months in, I switched to second shift and flourished with my work. I had also resigned from the morning shelf-stocker job to take on a full-time position that management at RSN facility had offered me.
They never honored their offer to give me full time hours and actually cut me down so I wasn’t working any more than 4 hours a week or less. I got to spend a good deal of time with Mitchell during this time, but it didn’t pay for anything and I needed money. By this time my mother was already working somewhere else because RSN facility had done the same thing to her with her hours. Needless to say, I followed her to AR facility where she now worked.
I started working at AR facility in October and I absolutely loved it. I worked the night shift, which was hard to acclimate to, but it was an excellent shift with awesome people to work with. My patients were down to earth and challenging in some cases. Some were intimidating from the amount of care they needed, but I'd grown to love everyone and become friends with them. Some were like family to me and some were good friends. We all had a very respectful and casual relationship, but everyone understood their boundaries. I loved working the rehabilitation unit the most. There was always something new going on that unit and it kept me on my toes. It wasn’t tedious which is why I tried to work up there as often as possible.
I’ve lost patients that were my friends. Each death takes a toll. Most of these people had been dropped off and rarely had visitors. Us aides and nurses had become an integral part of their lives and giving our time and attention to each person who needed it could become exhausting, but my time and energy meant so much to some of the people I lost. Some of my patients had exceptional knowledge and some had passions and life goals they would never get to see. It was also a part of my job to reinforce their mentality and be someone they could rely on, even if it meant sacrificing a part of myself to make sure they had at least a little comfort in their situation.
Most of the people I took care of were long term care patients who’d lived average lives, some were people who had accidents when they were younger and had to adapt to this new life they’d been handed. Few patients that I took care of were brought there for end-of-life care and some were just staying for a bit to recover and move on. Each person that you care for makes an impact on your own life as an aide and once they’re gone, the impact they made can feel bittersweet. I wouldn’t change it either way. I found value in each person and reward in everything I did to care for them.
My work life was finally running smoothly, so I didn’t have to worry about much there and I made good money at the time. My life outside of work was also going well. Actually, not every aspect... I’d moved from my grandmother's house. I hadn’t been staying there very often anyways since my work took me further away from where they lived and tensions between myself, my uncle, and grandmother were growing. I think it might have been that I wasn’t the kind of person they wanted me to be and they took their frustrations of that out on me, so I moved in with my mother again.
My grandmother still let me use the car considering we had worked out a deal for me to pay for it. I no longer had the variable of not being able to go see Mitchell or any of my other friends. I was actually free to be me and do as I please. I was content. I’d go to work, complete my shift, drive home, lay down on my cot in the office, turn my laptop on, smoke a bowl, and watch a tv show until I fell asleep, then go back to work. On my days off, I would drive out to Conneaut and spend the day with friends until Mitchell finished his second shift. We were pretty steady at this time and we were both working. I wish it would have stayed that way.
Comments (0)
See all