My adventure as a care assistant in a retirement home E-Book

Désirée Weissenfeld

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 144

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Immerse yourself in the captivating world of a nursing home, where laughter and tears are often close together. Join me on my turbulent adventures as a care assistant, where every day holds a new surprise. From heart-warming moments to absurd situations - my book is a declaration of love to my profession and the people I care for. Experience with me the joy, the difficult moments and the unforgettable moments that motivate us nurses time and again despite our hectic everyday lives: different, humorous and bluntly honest. Ready for an early shift that would be a challenge even with roller skates?

Leseprobe

Foreword

Hello, dear readers, my name is Désirée and I work at the

I have been working as a care assistant in a retirement home on the blue ward for 9 years. To explain: In our home, each ward is color-coded.

Once again, it was an early shift when you would have needed roller skates.

Next resident, oh yes, I still have to go there too

(bell)

(I would be faster with roller skates).

I walked past a colleague and said to her:

"Really, I could write a book about our stressful

Write profession."

My colleague just said: "Do it, Desi, do it." When I got home, once again flattened of course, I thought about my colleague's statement.

That evening, I told my husband the story. My husband just said: "Write, my darling, it will do you good."

The next day, my husband had bought everything I needed to write a book.

Thank you, my darling, for your support. I sat down in our dining room and started writing.

I would now like to take you on a journey through daily care in a retirement home.

Have fun,

Your Désirée.

Schweeester

(Our dear Polish woman)

A resident, almost 100, Polish, running meter, slim.

She has endless power and counts you out when it comes to basic care.

Now you need patience. She insults you in Polish. Now you have to stay calm, I have a lot of empathy. During basic care, she suddenly sees pills all over her body.

"Nurse, pills everywhere." I immediately take a towel, rub the tablets away and she's fine.

Then finally, after a few more Polish messages, my Polish woman is ready and I can move on to the next resident. No, not at all. The best part comes now, it drives me crazy when my Polish girl starts screaming:

"Schweeeeester, Schweeeeester", every second.

She screams so loudly, you can hear it all over the house.

I have to run, yes run, otherwise you'll go mad.

What does she want? I'm here.

"Schweeeeester, in the loo" and I take her to the loo.

She's sitting there now and you keep hearing: "Itschie, itschie."

We still don't know what that means. Then again, "Schweeeester, okay, toilet ready." I run, off the toilet. After all the action, she's just sweet as sugar, looks at me and says: "Sister, nice blouse."

To explain: I love colorful blouses and so does my Polish girl.

I celebrate my Polish girl, she drives me crazy easily and she often makes me laugh.

A slob at the beginning

Over the years, I have grown into nursing.

Staff come and go, I'm still here.

Somehow it has turned out that I have all the new

applicants for the nursing assistant (my boss thinks I could do it). Some got an O. K., some got a No.

Then, one day, a young man stood in front of me (17 years old) and wanted to work in nursing (with no previous experience).

So, for me that means: roll up your sleeves and get going.

I knew from the start that it would be a tough battle with him.

I noticed that he was very reserved and seemed to be afraid of me, but I never give up.

I cracked it with a lot of communication and empathy.

Suddenly he had empathy for the residents.

Ah, I thought to myself, he could be a good fosterer one day. It took me some time to get my fosterling to where he is today. Oh my God, how I chased that boy around the ward (poor boy).

My protégé slowly thawed out more and more with me. I often took the time to talk, talk, talk with him. We started to have a lot of fun together. He seemed to be happy when we were on duty together. I felt the same way, I was able to teach him a lot of things while having fun. Today he is a cheerful, hard-working, empathetic and great colleague.

Thank you, my boy, for what you have become.

I also allow myself a little pride.

I love my job.

Squeak, squeak

One of the residents, who unfortunately is no longer alive, made me laugh and drove me crazy.

She wore a nightgown all day and her sexy underpants flashed discreetly from under her nightgown. Great picture.

She arrives at 5.30 in the morning with her rollator

(definitely belongs in a museum, you can hear it, squeak, squeak) into the nurses' room and wants an enema (a medication that you insert rectally to have a better bowel movement). I don't know how many times we told her to please go to her room, we'd be right there. No, no, no, she stays, doesn't stop and wants her enema. What now? Okay, she gets her enema and leaves. Ah, thank God, finally peace and quiet. We all had to laugh afterwards, her appearance was just so sweet.

So, the breakfast trolley has arrived and who do we hear? The antique rollator with an attachment. She is hanging her head in the breakfast trolley looking for her breakfast.

"Go to your room!"

No chance, we looked for her breakfast in the 30 trays and gave it to her. Great, keep working.

Oh well, I gave her the nickname Quietschi, you didn't see her, you heard her, here comes Quietschi again.

She was a resident that I still miss today. She knew what she wanted at the age of 100 and always got everything she wanted. That's how it should be to make residents happy. Despite all the stress, I had a lot of empathy for Quietschi. Quietschi, we miss you.

The good soul at reception

It's now 3 p.m. and I'm working on the fourth story. I've just got home, today's shift was the ultimate madness again.

I am now writing about a colleague, she is the good soul in the house.

She takes care of the incontinence material for 100 residents, answers all phone calls at reception, places orders for incontinence material, places orders for our cleaning beads and takes care of accompanying residents to medical appointments (they can't do this on their own, of course).

She is the soul that swirls around the whole house and is sensational, she is always in a good mood.

Her phone rings every second (sorry, my dear, I have a question). She also distributes the laundry in her cupboards for the 100 residents.

She is not in nursing, but I work with her a lot, as I am also an inco-commissioner in addition to nursing.

Every nursing home/senior citizens' home needs a great person like my colleague.

For every fart we call her, can you organize for us ... organize this and that, we get an answer:

"NATURALLY!" Thank you for being here.

I love my job.

My first man in nursing

How did I get into nursing 9 years ago without any previous experience?

Thanks to my husband.

I had cared for an elderly lady privately and we realized that I really enjoyed helping this lady.

My husband said he could imagine that I could be happy in nursing. Great, that's where I am now, hahaha.

Of course, I hadn't thought about the fact that I also had to care for male residents (intimate areas). The first resident took me a lot of effort. There he was, the first male resident, so here we go. I think I texted him during basic care out of sheer fear and shame.

The resident seemed to notice that I wasn't feeling well, so he said to me:

"Girl, I'm a poor sod who can't take care of myself anymore. Girl, believe me, I'd love to be able to do it on my own."

Tears welled up in my eyes.

After this basic care, it clicked in my head and I realized that, whether man or woman, they all need our help, with a lot of empathy.

The resident is no longer alive, is now in heaven and looks down on me: "Girl, you can do it" (I'm convinced of that).

Thank you, good man, you have taken away my fear.

Incontinence

You've probably heard the word incontinence before. As already mentioned, I am the incontinence officer for my/our ward (with all my heart).

Inko means incontinence. You can compare it to a diaper that is put on a baby. Of course, we don't call it diapers for the residents, but incontinence material (they're not babies).

When we get a new resident, I look for the

I now have to talk to him/her and find out to what extent the resident is incontinent. The conversation is very stressful for me because it's about the intimate area and I don't yet know what makes the resident tick. I have to take a lot of time for these conversations and talk to the resident at eye level (out of respect for the resident).

You have to imagine that this person is a stranger in the facility, doesn't know anyone, is insecure and doesn't know what's going to happen. Now I'm coming with Inko.

Most of the time these conversations go well, sometimes they don't, then I stop and give the new resident time to think, often with success.

I would find it difficult to do this job without my nursing colleagues, because every bit of information they provide helps me to find the right

decision and to use the right incontinence material.

Thank you very much for your cooperation, dear ones.

I love my job.

Bell, bell, bell

So, it's now, I look at my watch,

1 p.m., I'm at home, pretty exhausted.

The early service was a blast.

Doorbell here, doorbell there, and that since 5.30 am. So I walk with the night shift (they're still on duty until 6.30 a.m.).

As I always arrive a little earlier, I help the night shift.

Now I go to a resident who keeps ringing the doorbell. I knock carefully and go in: "Good morning." She looks at me with wide eyes and says:

"Can you give me a shower?"

Huh, I think, 6.00 a.m.?

"No, my dear, I still have to hand over the

Night shift to early shift."

I sit down next to her on the bed and calmly explain to her that it's still too early to take a shower.

"Get some more sleep." She continues to look at me, still holding my hand and says:

"You'll come to me in a minute, you won't forget me."

I promise her I'll be back as soon as I have time. I say goodbye with the words: "See you soon, my dear." She smiles, lets go of my hand and I leave.

Once in the nurses' room, she rings the bell again.

So back in, one more time, and they're back with lots of

Calm empathy. She thanks me and I can leave again.

The bell was a recurring theme throughout the morning service.

I love my job.

Corona

There is something else I have to write. It doesn't affect one inhabitant alone, but all the inhabitants of this earth.

CORONA. What is that, we thought at first. But then came the time when we got really scared.

When the first coronavirus cases were reported in our city, we were immediately given restrictions by the health authorities in our building.

Corona tests were delivered and regular tests were carried out.

We also had to test ourselves, open our mouths, insert the sticks up to the tonsils (gag), insert the sticks into the nose (almost up to the brain).

You think: "Hey, I think I'm in the wrong movie." Wait a few minutes, result negative

(6 correct numbers in the lottery), so, early shift over.

The next day, early shift.

I come to the ward, what do I see?

A corona station was set up in front of 5 residents' rooms (protective clothing, gloves, disinfection, safety goggles, etc.).

Now I realize that the sh... is starting for us too. You have to remember that we have residents who are approaching 100, have pre-existing illnesses, few antibodies, not to mention all the things I don't want to list.

Team meeting, a strategy is now being developed. Hygiene is now a top priority to prevent further outbreaks and to protect ourselves.

Let's go, the first resident with Corona rings.

I wrap up and cover myself in front of the room. Face mask, goggles, hairnet, gloves up to my elbows. I look like an alien.

I think: Poor resident, if he sees me like this now. I go in: "Good morning, dear Mrs. ..." She looks at me with wide eyes, startled. I try to explain the situation to her with warm words. I still don't know if she understood what I was trying to explain to her (resident finished).

Now take everything off again, dispose of and disinfect.

Next corona bell. Get dressed, cover up, take care of the resident. I'm sweating, I'm suffering with the residents, I'm not feeling well.

Many of my residents are suffering, coughing, have a fever, shortness of breath, anxiety. We, the nursing staff, try to do our best for our residents, to calm them down, care for them and look after them.

All stations are now affected by Corona.

Our retirement home is now under quarantine.

No one is allowed to leave the room.

Supplies, food, everything only in protective clothing.

The residents are suffering, no relatives are allowed to visit them. Some of the residents don't understand what corona is, they become lonely in their room (cruel).

We slide into the evening on our kneecaps.

The next day, all the staff - early, late and night shifts - suffer with the residents. Tears flowed at work, even after work at home. We had to watch a resident slowly pass away, we were helpless. We had tried everything to help the resident. Cruel, Corona, you ar..., what are you doing to us humans?

Well, it's over now (hopefully just another virus that we have under control), the residents are doing well again, relatives are coming back, events are running again. More than before, we are very happy to be able to pamper our residents again. Many thanks to all our colleagues for their self-sacrificing work, we have all shown how good it is to stick together. Thanks also to the care service, which has supported us well.

I love my job.

Last wish of a resident

One resident, unfortunately he is no longer with us. His name was Peter.

He was a cool guy, the staff celebrated him.

He always wanted to eat his meals in his room. During the day, he came to our nurses' room to see what was going on.

Because I'm always in a good mood and up for a bit of fun,

and he turned up at our house again, I asked Peter to take me to the kitchen with his walker.

He agreed, I sat on his walker and we laughed a lot on the way to the kitchen.

Eh, believe me, the walk to the kitchen was quite long and exhausting for Peter (I'm no size 34 Barbie).

Anyway, Peter really had a lot of fun with me.

Then the day came. We knew that Peter would be leaving us. A colleague and I, we get on very well, were on morning duty together and Peter was in nursing. During nursing, Peter said: "Hey, girls, I'm up for a cold Kölsch with you two."

I looked at my colleague and said to her:

"What do we do now?"

Of course, we will fulfill Peter's wish.

Off to the kitchen, 3 glasses and a cold Kölsch.

Then we fulfilled Peter's wish, PROST, PETER.

Hopefully no one will smell that we've been drinking a Kölsch.

Anyway, we fulfilled Peter's last wish.

He left us a short time later.

The bottom line for me is that in care, you can break out with a resident and get up to mischief.

I love my job.

The mix-up

The next story I would like to tell you is from my early days as a nursing assistant.

Late service.

We had one resident who only wanted to be addressed as "Fräulein".

She was short and corpulent.

Her roommate was also small, not so corpulent.

Both in wheelchairs, both with dementia.

17.00, evening meal for all residents.

Now that we were full, everyone wanted to go to bed at the same time.

"To bed", shouted 10 residents at the same time.

Miss shouted: "To bed!" Her neighbor also wanted to go to bed.

Okay, Miss first, I thought to myself.

I drove Fräulein into the room in her wheelchair.

Now evening care.

Undress, freshen up, apply cream, put on nightgown. Strange, Miss's nightgown is very tight, yesterday it still fit.

Okay, go on, dentures in the box, done.

Done, good night my dear. So, next.

Miss's neighbor wouldn't rest. Okay, she's next. Same procedure, undress, freshen up, etc.

Strange, what's going on here, why is her nightgown too big?

Anyway, carry on, finish, off to bed. Good night, my dear. Off work, wish the night shift a peaceful night, see you in the morning.

The next morning I come into the nurses' room.