aunthippie: A white red-headed infant winks and grins. (wink)
Happy 33rd Birthday, J.

Remember to take the batteries out of the smoke detector before you have any cake.
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
Rain, rain, go away, come back as necessary to prevent drought but really, don't you think you've overstayed your welcome for this week? *sigh* The fish tank usually loses an inch every two weeks or so to evaporation (and possibly the cat drinking the water, but I don't think so. I think she's just harassing them). It hasn't lost any in a week and a half now.
Conall continues to be pesky as all getout, and we haven't been able to ship him outside or to the park for So Long. Maggie, at least, seems to be hitting a major developmental change and is sleeping 12-13 hours a night plus naps. Of course, she's also screaming her head off any time I tell her she can't nurse, or if I leave her sight, or Conall looks at her funny. Yes, clearly we all need to get outdoors, if this frelling rain ever stops.

Work continues to be worklike. My new method of training is to be given the hardest assignment on the floor and a veteran CNA to check in on me. Um. Though the biggest problem now is not doing any of the tasks, it's figuring out what needs to be done by when, and since everybody else just has it in their head and doesn't really explain why we're doing anything we do, it's been a bit hard to pick up on. So far I've gathered that a day is pretty much: Come in, go through and brief anyone who needs it and toilet anyone who doesn't, get all the two assists up for dinner, get everyone else up for dinner, pass trays, escort the residents that eat there down to the main dining room, feed anybody that needs feeding in the supervised dining room on our unit, put all two assists back to bed, give everybody a partial bed bath or shower if they're on the list, do rounds, do charts. WHEE.
This assignment is 11 people with 8 that are two assist for transfers, including 3 that scream and swear and hit when you try to wash them, one that refuses to use her call button and just screams "HEEEEEELLLLLP!" all night long, 3 entirely bedbound people, and two hoyer lifts. The one thing they luck out on is feeding...most of them are either independent or one guy is tube fed, not that that's actually a break since there are plenty of people to be fed in the dining room and we all have to share that. The logic is that if I can do that hall, I can do any assignment...except that it's the only hall I've worked with, so only know a handful of the other residents and their status.

I suspect that I will not be joining Renee at the Haven for Leash and Collar night. Sheena did not find a sitter, so we can't scar her forever, and without that it's just not interesting enough to drive over the bridge for, especially since I'd have to change at work. I know some people have nurse fantasies, but I think they're usually wearing those dumb white dresses and not scrubs with fishies on them.


May. 6th, 2003 07:18 pm
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
Clinical starts tomorrow. My resident is 101 years old, frail as hell, and totally dependent for everything except feeding.
I am petrified that I will walk in tomorrow and she will have died overnight.
Meantime, I still have no pants.
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
Yay, I lived through my first week of CNA training. I sailed through the midterm, and I was the first person to pass every single one of my skills. :D I can take blood pressures now. Hee! (Hi, I'm a big old dork. I went around to everyone I could find and asked them to let me practice on them.)
I'm not sure that I'll like working in a nursing home, though. Actually, I'm kind of nervous about that. I really want to work on a maternity ward, and they're very very different kinds of care. I'm afraid I'll burn out on dementia and death and bedsores before I can finish my nursing degree, which they are ever so kindly offering to pay for. [Why yes, yes I will whore myself out for tuition, why do you ask?] Two summers ago my husband and I helped care for his great grandmother- she had senile dementia but wouldn't leave her house, so his mother took on most of the care herself. She's gone a lot during the summer, though, and my BIL was busy planning his wedding, so we did a lot of the weekends just going in and keeping her company, cooking, cleaning, making sure she didn't eat food that had gone bad, making sure she was remembering to drink water and turn on her A/C instead of her heat.
I was about 5 months pregnant at the time, and one of the first things we noticed was that she never talked about the day that she'd get to see her second great great granchild. She was pretty much planning to stick around long enough to see Chris married- he's a good boy, he had a church wedding- and then just let go. She died less than 3 weeks after the wedding.
It turned out that she had kidney cancer that her doctor had brushed off as the dementia causing her to exaggerate her pain. This same doctor is the guy who told my father that he hadn't had a heart attack- my dad had a triple bypass a week later- and told my sister that she was having panic attacks- she was allergic to the horse dander on her roomate's clothing and it was triggering severe asthma attacks, and she went to the ER 4 times in a month- and refused to x-ray my knee, because it was just a bad sprain- my kneecap was broken. Someday I will see him fried...but I digress.
She spent just over a week in the soon as she was admitted they found the cancer and she went right into hospice care. I'm still amazed at the strength of her will. She was very much in control on some level and I will swear to anyone that she chose exactly when she was ready to go at every step along the way.
This is the first time I'd actually seen death, and I don't think that my reaction was normal. Maybe it's because I wasn't technically family..I was..not happy, exactly, but glad that she wasn't suffering any more and that it was so clearly her decision to go. I knew, when she was going to die- I'd never heard what they call a "death rattle" before but I knew what it was as soon as I heard it, and I was too afraid to call it that in front of the family. (This is where I feel like my reaction was weird.. I was much quicker to accept that she was dying and be OK with the idea. Much much quicker.)
I just don't think that the measures they have at the nursing home to prevent burnout will work for me, because I'm just not normal in my reaction to death, at least not for this culture.


aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
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