The Vignette Series, Part II
On Cats:
I don't know how the cats at work have possibly found their way into so many of my blog entries, but here old Hugs and Rusty are going to make yet another appearance. Those cats cause me grief, consternation, frustration, hair pulling, and much sighing, but until this week I could honestly say that they had never posed me a serious moral dilemma. It all started when I decided to be helpful in gathering up various men who were due for a visit with the barber. She was cutting hair down in the west day room, so I decided that I could bring people back and forth from the dining room to save her a little time. Upon one of my many trips down to the dayroom, I beheld Rusty the cat, or at least his hind end. The reason, may I mention, that I could only see his hind end was because the rest of him was hanging out of an accidentally open window. In an instant, I was faced with an important decision. "Do I save the cat, or do I help him the rest of the way out the window?" Let me add, lest you think that I'm a terrible person, that I had just spent the previous 10 days trying to track the beast down THREE TIMES PER DAY so I could put ointment on its eye infection. I don't know how many of you have ever tried to medicate a cat, but it is not an easy thing. For someone who doesn't actually like cats, this task can sometimes seem like a near impossibility. For someone who doesn't like cats and is also trying to do another full-time job that has little to do with cats, spending an hour a day trying to locate the animal is bordering on crazy-making. I had only a few seconds to ponder this crucial decision....and of course, I saved the stupid thing. In the end, I think it was because I was worried that there would be someone below the window who would probably not be super thrilled with getting hit by a falling cat. All I can say is the next time the cat tries to jump out the 5th floor window, let's hope I'm not looking.
On Men, Old ones...:
I have also written many a blog entry about strange or amusing things that the various men have said me at my work, so I thought I would share this brief comment. I have one man on my floor who is notoriously crabby. If he is in a bad mood, watch out. On one such occasion, I must have crossed the line with my generally chipper demeanor, because the first words out of his mouth when he saw me were, "F%$# you! You're the reason I'm disabled! I wish I could put a bomb in your mouth!" This incident actually happened some time ago, but the reason I bring it up now is because much more recently he was in another bad mood. This time he said to me something which I found to be almost more hurtful..."I wish I could buy you a nice hairstyle!" Honestly I've had to develop a really thick skin for this job...
On Men, Younger ones...:
Not all of the men I work with on a daily basis are geriatrics. Some of my residents are much younger guys who all have various and sundry reasons for being in a long-term care facility. Old men can be pretty dirty, but some of these younger men can really give me a run for my money. For instance, I run a drum circle group every Thursday on another floor. Every single Thursday, without fail, one man in my group will ask me, "Can I see your breasts?" Well, as you can imagine, every week I respond with a firm "No" and quickly redirect to another topic of conversation. This week, however, the individual was feeling a little more creative, because he asked me, "Could I please check and make sure your heart isn't missing?" A brilliant rephrase of the age old question, but alas for him, the answer was still the same. The things I never pictured myself dealing with at work...
I don't know how the cats at work have possibly found their way into so many of my blog entries, but here old Hugs and Rusty are going to make yet another appearance. Those cats cause me grief, consternation, frustration, hair pulling, and much sighing, but until this week I could honestly say that they had never posed me a serious moral dilemma. It all started when I decided to be helpful in gathering up various men who were due for a visit with the barber. She was cutting hair down in the west day room, so I decided that I could bring people back and forth from the dining room to save her a little time. Upon one of my many trips down to the dayroom, I beheld Rusty the cat, or at least his hind end. The reason, may I mention, that I could only see his hind end was because the rest of him was hanging out of an accidentally open window. In an instant, I was faced with an important decision. "Do I save the cat, or do I help him the rest of the way out the window?" Let me add, lest you think that I'm a terrible person, that I had just spent the previous 10 days trying to track the beast down THREE TIMES PER DAY so I could put ointment on its eye infection. I don't know how many of you have ever tried to medicate a cat, but it is not an easy thing. For someone who doesn't actually like cats, this task can sometimes seem like a near impossibility. For someone who doesn't like cats and is also trying to do another full-time job that has little to do with cats, spending an hour a day trying to locate the animal is bordering on crazy-making. I had only a few seconds to ponder this crucial decision....and of course, I saved the stupid thing. In the end, I think it was because I was worried that there would be someone below the window who would probably not be super thrilled with getting hit by a falling cat. All I can say is the next time the cat tries to jump out the 5th floor window, let's hope I'm not looking.
On Men, Old ones...:
I have also written many a blog entry about strange or amusing things that the various men have said me at my work, so I thought I would share this brief comment. I have one man on my floor who is notoriously crabby. If he is in a bad mood, watch out. On one such occasion, I must have crossed the line with my generally chipper demeanor, because the first words out of his mouth when he saw me were, "F%$# you! You're the reason I'm disabled! I wish I could put a bomb in your mouth!" This incident actually happened some time ago, but the reason I bring it up now is because much more recently he was in another bad mood. This time he said to me something which I found to be almost more hurtful..."I wish I could buy you a nice hairstyle!" Honestly I've had to develop a really thick skin for this job...
On Men, Younger ones...:
Not all of the men I work with on a daily basis are geriatrics. Some of my residents are much younger guys who all have various and sundry reasons for being in a long-term care facility. Old men can be pretty dirty, but some of these younger men can really give me a run for my money. For instance, I run a drum circle group every Thursday on another floor. Every single Thursday, without fail, one man in my group will ask me, "Can I see your breasts?" Well, as you can imagine, every week I respond with a firm "No" and quickly redirect to another topic of conversation. This week, however, the individual was feeling a little more creative, because he asked me, "Could I please check and make sure your heart isn't missing?" A brilliant rephrase of the age old question, but alas for him, the answer was still the same. The things I never pictured myself dealing with at work...
Labels: pro
posted by Erinn @ 8:13 PM
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