It’s A Love & Hate Thing.

Sometimes it’s just one of those days. It’s frustrating, difficult, tiring, you name it & it’s likely that emotion passes through me. But it’s times like these when I know without a doubt that I was meant to do this; because eventhough I wanted to pull my hair out, there was no question that I wouldn’t trade it to work anywhere else.

I work a 7am – 3pm shift, which is by far the busiest out of the 3 shifts (3pm-11pm & 11pm-7am). There are 3 PSW’s on the unit and we are each responsible for our own assigned residents. Clearly, if a coworker needs help with their resident, you help them, but generally speaking we each have our own that we’re responsible for. We have 8-10 residents each. ALL of which – with a few exceptions – have to be in the dinning room for breakfast at roughly 8:30, 1.5hours after the shift has started. That being said, you can only imagine the difficulty of accomplishing this when one PSW calls in sick and they can’t find anyone to replace them.

Well, it happens. And what do we do? Pull together, as a TEAM, and get the job done. There’s no point in bitching, whining and altogether acting like a Debby Downer. THIS IS YOUR JOB. Your residents are your NUMBER ONE priority. There are exceptions in this situation, for example, if EVERYONE isn’t in the dinning room by 8:30 on the dot, it isn’t a big deal. If you don’t have time to dress everyone and some people are eatting breakfast in their pajamas, so be it. You just adjust to the situation.

It was me, another PSW and we THANKFULLY had two students helping us. I don’t think I have ever hauled ass – litterally and figuratively, HA! – so quickly before in the last 2 years I’ve been working. Eventhough it’s exhausting, I love it. I really do. I like keeping busy and moving, I like the challenge. Sometimes I time myself just to see how quick I am.

I’ll also share with you a conversation I had with a lovely lady – who’s 103, by the way – we’ll call Gwen.

Gwen: Is your husband bald?
Me: Yes, yes he is (sure, for sake of argument we’ll pretend I’m married. And I like bald men).
Gwen: Well make sure he wears a hat when he goes outside! (She’s YELLING this at me).
Me: I’ll do that.
Gwen: You’re bald too (pointing at my very white, freshly shaven legs).
Me: I am.
Gwen: You’re also fat. I’m not fat. My mother wasn’t fat. My father wasn’t fat.
Me:…Thanks, Gwen.
Gwen: PUT SOME STOCKINGS ON!!!!!! (I was wearing shorts).

Everyday is a mystery.

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