(no subject)
Jul. 10th, 2006 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolToday I took someone a cup of tea, like I always do. She hasn't eaten for three weeks now (or at least, hasn't eaten anything that isn't jelly or custard) but every day, I put that cup of tea down on her side table with a cheery "Good morning! A nice cup of tea for you!" She never drank it and always just slept.
Note the past tense. She died about an hour after I crept in wih her tea. Bizarrely, I just feel a bit guilty because today was the only day I didn't put down a digestive biscuit too, on the off-chance she might be peckish.
So, that was my day. Apparently summer is, and I quote 'high turnover season' so I should, according to the average, see another *counts* three of these quite uncomfortable days. They are weird, and people get a bit upset if they were the personal carer, and everyone suddenly spends a lot of time in the kitchen. On the bright side, this meant I left with five minutes to spare, as all the people feling awkward furiously cleaned for me. (Or ferried tea and coffee upstairs for the, count 'em, 11 grieving family members who turned up and then told me "Blimey, how do you carry that tray?" WITH PAIN IS WHAT I CARRY IT WITH, KIDS.)
This sounds terribly unfeeling, and honestly, I feel dreadful for the poor woman's family, and for the nurse who was with her when she actually died, but, um, it was just a bit weird, to be honest.
You just don't get this sort of thing working in an office.
In other news, however, my hands are actually quite seriously gross right now. Young children flee and panic at the side of my scabby hands that look not unlike an acid attack! Well, no quite, but sort of. I had an accident with the kettle last night, so I have a bright red scalding burn across my hand (fortunately, it is not blistered but it hurts like hell and is still red over twenty-four hours later) which is reacting badly to the rubber gloves but worse to the washing-up water. The rest of my skin is merrily regrowing back in a harder, tougher exoskeleton that I suspect will turn steel aside, with the exception for the some of the bits where I have assorted cuts and burns because I'm naturally extremely clumsy, but despite that and the death and the nasty old people who shout a bit, I'm still actually quite getting a vague sense of job satisfaction. And pain. You know. In a combination, like.
I get paid on Friday and I have a day off on Saturday. I am quite excited by this, mostly because I am so tired that I actually have trouble thinking of stuff that isn't, y'know, work. *yawns*
... weird day. Roll on tomorrow?
~Hathy_Col~
Note the past tense. She died about an hour after I crept in wih her tea. Bizarrely, I just feel a bit guilty because today was the only day I didn't put down a digestive biscuit too, on the off-chance she might be peckish.
So, that was my day. Apparently summer is, and I quote 'high turnover season' so I should, according to the average, see another *counts* three of these quite uncomfortable days. They are weird, and people get a bit upset if they were the personal carer, and everyone suddenly spends a lot of time in the kitchen. On the bright side, this meant I left with five minutes to spare, as all the people feling awkward furiously cleaned for me. (Or ferried tea and coffee upstairs for the, count 'em, 11 grieving family members who turned up and then told me "Blimey, how do you carry that tray?" WITH PAIN IS WHAT I CARRY IT WITH, KIDS.)
This sounds terribly unfeeling, and honestly, I feel dreadful for the poor woman's family, and for the nurse who was with her when she actually died, but, um, it was just a bit weird, to be honest.
You just don't get this sort of thing working in an office.
In other news, however, my hands are actually quite seriously gross right now. Young children flee and panic at the side of my scabby hands that look not unlike an acid attack! Well, no quite, but sort of. I had an accident with the kettle last night, so I have a bright red scalding burn across my hand (fortunately, it is not blistered but it hurts like hell and is still red over twenty-four hours later) which is reacting badly to the rubber gloves but worse to the washing-up water. The rest of my skin is merrily regrowing back in a harder, tougher exoskeleton that I suspect will turn steel aside, with the exception for the some of the bits where I have assorted cuts and burns because I'm naturally extremely clumsy, but despite that and the death and the nasty old people who shout a bit, I'm still actually quite getting a vague sense of job satisfaction. And pain. You know. In a combination, like.
I get paid on Friday and I have a day off on Saturday. I am quite excited by this, mostly because I am so tired that I actually have trouble thinking of stuff that isn't, y'know, work. *yawns*
... weird day. Roll on tomorrow?
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2006-07-10 05:16 pm (UTC)Well, at least you didn't skip her over entirely. You did your part!
When Z's Gram was in a nursing home, we all showed up with a birthday cake for her on her birthday... and wound up having a birthday party for no less than six other residents, whose families had neither visited nor sent anything for their birthdays within one month of Gram's. It was kind of depressing. One woman's birthday was the very same day, and she had no living relatives left. But I was so impressed with the staff, and how well they made it all work out-- it was a surprise for Gram and she'd had no idea.
When Gram died, not much later, in the hospital down the street, Z's aunts went themselves to the nursing home to break the news to the other residents, because she'd been so popular there.
Nursing homes are an odd mix of inspiring and depressing.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-11 04:57 pm (UTC)Isn't that the truth. The staff at this home are wonderful beyond anything I've seen before. (My mum worked nursing homes for years and is amazed at the level of care.) They have a weird sense of humour, hence the 'high turnover' comment - you have to stay jolly, despite everything. If families don't visit, that's okay, because they get a good chat at least once a day with me, the carers, the nurses and the other domestics. They're still strange places, though.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-10 08:15 pm (UTC)xx
no subject
Date: 2006-07-11 04:58 pm (UTC)