Tuesday, January 26, 2021

WRITING FROM AND ABOUT THE PAST

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I want to share some blog posts I wrote long ago about working in a nursing home. Perhaps I'll write more stories about my all-time favorite job.

The following is the prologue I wrote for what I thought would be my first book. Fortunately, I learned from an x-ray and a thorough examination by a doctor that I do not have a book in me. The knowledge allows me to enjoy writing without feeling any pressure.

If you have a book in you, then you must write it. A surgeon cannot remove it for you.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Although it's been 20 years since I was there, I can picture the layout of the building perfectly. I know all the residents. I know their faces, how they look when they are smiling, how they look when storm clouds pass over them and the tears rain down their cheeks. Which ones have visitors, which ones have no family, and which ones have family but never receive a visit.


They are our mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, grandparents. They cared for us and changed our diapers when we were babies.

Now, they have turned into babies. Dementia turns adults into toddlers. Alzheimer's often leads to violent tantrums.

I can still smell the urine––strong, a very strong odor because the elderly don't drink enough water.

I know the care each person requires. Vivie is in a wheelchair but can walk with only a little assistance. Gene could walk with assistance when he arrived, but his condition deteriorated. He no longer walks. Zora and Ann have to be moved with mechanical lifts.

Violet and many others have to be lifted in our strong arms––lifted from wheelchair to toilet, from toilet to wheelchair, from wheelchair to bed. All the residents are terrified when we lower the bed railings so one of us can roll the person on her side while the other washes the rear end.

If the people are rolled toward me, "I'll fall out," they cry.

"No one ever gets past me," I reassure them.

"There's a first time for everything," they always say in between cries and screams. "You're too skinny. You're not big enough to save me."

O.K. So I'm skinny. I'm quite a bit smaller than the average nursing assistant. But there was no first time. No one ever rolled out of bed when I was there to offer protection. People who work in nursing homes have arms made of bands of steel. How else could we lift people who weigh 200 pounds?

The patients are safe with me, and not just because I'm strong. I saved Zora when s
he coughed and her face turned purple. No one else took her illness seriously. It turned out she had pneumonia.  I demanded that the charge nurse call her doctor.

Nurses hate to call the doctor because sometimes doctors yell at nurses. Doctors abuse nurses. Nurses abuse nursing assistants. Sometimes nurses and assistants abuse patients.

I never "get tough" with the patients others call spoiled. I don't have it in me. When Pop tries to hit me, I hold up my hands so he punches my palms. Katherine throws her bed alarm at me. I catch it with my left hand and congratulate myself, laughing. Katherine doesn't know what she's doing. How can I be angry?

And I always try to find a way to make the residents laugh, whether it's something I say or by dancing my way into their rooms, pretending to be a clumsy ballerina.

I am hugged, kissed, told "I love you."

I am peed on, vomited on, told "I'll kick you."

The people in my safekeeping hold my heart in their shaky hands, hands with skin so thin it can rip as easily as tissue paper. 

I touch with love, with laughter, with recognition of the individual.

I am a caregiver.

49 comments:

  1. Thank you for doing that hugely important job with grace, with style and with love.

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  2. And God love you for it!

    That was a poignant read.

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  3. This is so beautifully, wonderfully, tragically human. One of my favorite posts of yours. It underscores your writing talents. Keep sharing, please.
    Love.

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  4. This reminded me of Mom's last year. I am reading in bed,in the dark with tears blurring these words I keep reading again and again. I guess it hits me particularly hard because one of her caregivers died of covid this morning and I have been thinking of them all day

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    1. That's so sad. Caregivers are hard hit because of COVID.

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  5. I absolutely love this! I worked briefly in a nursing home and could picture it all. The world needs more loving caregivers. I saw a few burnt out angry ones (and wanted to smack them upside the head).

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    1. The angry people were awful. They needed different jobs.

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  6. Thank you for the work you have done. We'd all be lost without nurses.

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  7. Thanks for this account. Few of us can imagine working in such circumstances and it makes me firmer in my belief that assisted suicide should be a right for everyone. It seems like an awful end to a productive life filled with many experiences, successes, love, happiness, and grief too. It is a tragedy that the care givers for these unfortunate people are universally overworked and underpaid. It has taken COVID to bring that to the attention of the world.

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    1. Sometimes people in a vegetative state were kept alive because that's the way the family wanted it. The majority of the rest of the people were on antidepressants.

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  8. Beautiful, just beautiful, Janie. My mom was in a nursing home for 10 years. I will be forever grateful to the nursing home staff who cared for her. She had her favourites, of course, the ones who made her laugh and smile, who teased and jollied her along. I can see you would have been outstanding at your job.

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  9. Timely post. My sister worked in a rest home long ago. They can be good and bad. I'm glad you enjoyed yours.

    " I learned from an x-ray and a thorough examination by a doctor that I do not have a book in me"--love that!

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    1. I have an old New Yorker cartoon of a man being examined by a doctor, who says, You have a novel in you. It has to come out.

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  10. You are amazing I hope you know that

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    1. Jo-Anne, you have to be one of the sweetest people in the world.

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  11. What a wonderful post. You are one of the few people that really belonged at that job, that truly cared about the folks that were there and enjoyed them in spite of their mental deterioration. Stars in your crown.

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    1. You're so kind, Sandra. I didn't know if I could do the job, but I fell in love with the patients. That made a huge difference.

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  12. You sound like my neighbor Cathy, who has become my good friend. She worked at St. Ed's for years, her best job ever, until cancer overtook her. She remains friends with the staff and the patients.

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  13. I was often amazed by the strength of all kinds my nursing home coworkers had

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    1. I wasn't physically strong when I started, but compassion came to me easily.

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  14. Brilliantly written. I am in that nursing home with you. I can see the struggling patients and turn up my nose at the smell of pee. I truly think caregivers are close to being saints. You do a job that is emotionaly tough and without much grattitude, as the patients don't always see you as helpful, but more of a hinderance. Caregivers truly must love what they do and it is definitely a calling. I am not that selfless or patient.

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    1. But you are a kind person. You might be surprised by what you could do.

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  15. This was beautiful! LOVE IT. These places need compassion and patience. For those who don't have it, perhaps another job is in order, hmm?

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    1. Yes, it would be better if some people moved on.

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  16. This is amazingly and beautifully written!

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  17. It takes a special person with a loving heart to be a good caregiver. Well done, Janie!

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    1. I loved that job. I never felt I was working even though it was labor intensive.

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  18. Hi Janie - yes well written ... I could easily have been with you during those times. We all need those who will be there for us in our old age or if we're ill. I hope you're healing ... all the best - Hilary

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  19. It takes a special person to work with the elderly. I never chose that road, and I admire those who do. I hope you are recovering from your traumatic experience, Janie.

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    1. I am recovering--thank you. I didn't have any experience with the elderly when I started the job, but I ended up loving them.

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  20. Toughest job.
    My years as my mother's caregiver and later a dutiful visitor at her nursing home still seared in my mind.

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    1. I think it would be harder to be a parent's caregiver. I'm glad that's something I didn't have to do.

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  21. I am my husband's caregiver.Some days are good and pleasant.Some days are tough and I really appreciate the job nurses do.
    I am trying to protect him from Covid. So far so good.
    I do salute nurses and doctors more than any other time than now.
    Take care of yourself and stay safe. Pls

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    1. It's hard to protect people from COVID. I promise I'm taking care of myself.

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  22. I remember your nursing home posts, and I always enjoyed them. And don't be so quick to judge about that book being inside of you. Maybe you need a second opinion... :)

    Take care.

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    1. Even if I had a book inside of me, I don't think I'd be brave enough to publish it. I admire you for writing and publishing.

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