October 9th, 2021 - 0844 hours
"What Do You Want?"
That's exactly what the nurse said to me when she came into my room first thing this morning. No introduction. No name tag. No smile. She was visibly angry.
So I explained what I needed.. details regarding my formula bag being rinsed out.
"What you sayin'? Start again."
So I did. Still, she was angry and not really listening.
Background
I'd been patiently waiting for an hour, hoping the nurse would help me out with my formula bag change out (I cannot do it myself). Initially, I explained to the CNA that I needed help. This was right around 7am. And the CNA said, "I'll let the nurse know. Maybe she'll get off her lazy ass."
Okay. Diminished expectations, right?
Forty-five minutes later the CNA came back into my room.
"The nurse asked me why I couldn't just pour more formula into your bag."
Note: only doctors/nurses are supposed to handle feeding formula and related equipment.. but it doesn't matter to me either way
So I explained to the CNA that the process was slightly more involved (though not complicated) than just dumping another bottle of formula into my bag, adding that I was willing to offer guidance. But after explaining, she decided against it, not wanting to overstep her reach.
Forty minutes later, someone (who I am assuming was the nurse) enters my room, hands immediately going to her hips.
"What do you want?"
Yes. She's angry. And after I explain half of the bag-rinsing/bleeding process to her (the second time) she takes off with my formula bag.
When she returns, I tell her to just leave the rest for me. Yes. Now I'm pissed off. I want to teach her a lesson. She does seem to be less angry, however, but I complete the rest of the process on my own. F#!$ her!
Fortunately, the bag is clean (thanks Mystery Nurse). Hooray! And I am good to go for the next eight hours.
Come to think of it, maybe someone stole the Mystery Nurse's cup of Top Ramen noodles. Or ruined her patterned silk blouse. Rotated her crops without permission. Established permanent residency in her backyard shed. Made whoopie with her ex. Inadvertently waxed nostalgic artifacts in her cauldron of despair.
Roommate
He's been sleeping for the past twelve hours. I appreciate the peace and quiet, but I am wondering if he's okay. Maybe it's a matter of being out of his pain meds.
A lot of Jeff's suffering is self-inflicted, but a fair percentage is not. And by the sounds of things, others suffer in his wake as well (family).
The message? Don't get sick. Don't get old. Legalize assisted suicide.
There should be established parameters regarding the care and treatment of the incapable elderly. They were once humans, too.
Supplies
Yes! My wife dropped off supplies at the front desk a little while ago (0923hrs). I'm going to like totally for sure O.D. on my probiotics. Something to Kill the Bloat. Repeat 10x while clapping maniacally - "Kill the Bloat!"
Speaking of words chanted and signage misspelled, we are now a society of inane three-word slogans. Somewhat recently, we used to be a society of several-word soundbytes. Prior to that? Headlines and front page news. Sooner than later, it'll be… Emojis. Nothing but faux faces. A return to caveman (and cavewoman) days chock full of grunts, groans and obscene gestures cannot be far behind.
Words We Don't Use Anymore: Antidisestablishmentarianism
M.E.
I know I don't hit on many illness related issues on this blog, but yes, I am still a practicing (and occasionally participating) member on this forum. I am not unintelligent, it's just that I don't quite understand what they're talking about in most threads.
If it can be seen, or visually represented, then yes, I can climb aboard. And if the subject matter involves methods of the mind, I am there, too. Things I've tried (supplements, etc.)? Yes, there's that as well.
Here and Now
I am performing undercover reconnaissance. And you know, I could tell these folks that I'm a writer of sorts, and perhaps mention that I have an active blog, and use this as a means to curry favor or preferential treatment. Or mention that I am trying to entice local media outlets into tagging along for the ride (I'm not, but I like the idea of doing so).
But that would be unfair to the other residents, the ones requiring more dedicated attention. And in order to attain an accurate picture of how operations like this actually run, I have to let this play out naturally. See, I am halfway imagining that I am on a secret mission of vital importance. My ego appreciates these sorts of false exercises.
Neglected
Roommate Jeff requires dedicated assistance with certain tasks/functions from time to time. And if these tasks aren't completed in a timely fashion, he not only suffers painfully, but there's potentially a large-scale clean-up involved.
So today, after waiting an hour to get anybody to respond, pain increasing, he starts becoming belligerent. Mind you, he's not been given his pain medication since last night. When they ran out. So, nearly twenty-hours later, he's legitimately pissed off.
I did my best to console him, redirect his focus, empathize, strategize.. yet still, no one was responding. So I called the front desk. I mean, what else could I do? So that woman called the nurses station for me, but nobody answered. And then she tried again. Shortly thereafter, the CNA arrived, saving the day.
The Angry Nurse? No idea.
Alleluiah! Shift Change!!
---- But what I find out will peel the paint off of your sky baby blue '77 Cutlass.
The Angry Nurse is working a double shift, so if she wasn't full-on angry-ass destructive before, she's probably ready to go nuclear right about now. A 17-hour shift… yikes.
Fortunately, I can change out the afternoon formula bag myself. Not easy, but heck, I used to be an athlete. Or in the least, fairly athletic. Coordinated? Not clumsy? Take your pick. Use your imagination. That's what I do. A lot. Ha!
Turnabout
I check in with my mother every day to go over a daily checklist of sorts, as her fading memory makes it nearly impossible to function on her own. I cannot afford to put her in a care facility that's both nice and reasonably priced.. and the state covered nursing facilities are on par with my current locale. Plus, she's wholly independent, defiant as hell, and would never stand for having a roommate, much less, in such close quarters.
Anyway, during today's conversation, she offered the following:
"You know, if you're ever bored there, you can call me up anytime. I'm in the same boat. No one else to talk to."
Her recognizing my situation was surprising. She's never really had any type of emotional awareness. And now, as she slowly approaches 90 years old…
Progress, right? Wow.
I cannot explain it, but I suddenly feel closer to my mother.
Take care. I am going to try and go back to sleep. Roommate Jeff has been up all night watching an "America's Loudest Stupidest Off-key Singer" marathon on his viewing device. Yes. Manufactured drama grates on me ----
H
"What Do You Want?"
That's exactly what the nurse said to me when she came into my room first thing this morning. No introduction. No name tag. No smile. She was visibly angry.
So I explained what I needed.. details regarding my formula bag being rinsed out.
"What you sayin'? Start again."
So I did. Still, she was angry and not really listening.
Background
I'd been patiently waiting for an hour, hoping the nurse would help me out with my formula bag change out (I cannot do it myself). Initially, I explained to the CNA that I needed help. This was right around 7am. And the CNA said, "I'll let the nurse know. Maybe she'll get off her lazy ass."
Okay. Diminished expectations, right?
Forty-five minutes later the CNA came back into my room.
"The nurse asked me why I couldn't just pour more formula into your bag."
Note: only doctors/nurses are supposed to handle feeding formula and related equipment.. but it doesn't matter to me either way
So I explained to the CNA that the process was slightly more involved (though not complicated) than just dumping another bottle of formula into my bag, adding that I was willing to offer guidance. But after explaining, she decided against it, not wanting to overstep her reach.
Forty minutes later, someone (who I am assuming was the nurse) enters my room, hands immediately going to her hips.
"What do you want?"
Yes. She's angry. And after I explain half of the bag-rinsing/bleeding process to her (the second time) she takes off with my formula bag.
When she returns, I tell her to just leave the rest for me. Yes. Now I'm pissed off. I want to teach her a lesson. She does seem to be less angry, however, but I complete the rest of the process on my own. F#!$ her!
Fortunately, the bag is clean (thanks Mystery Nurse). Hooray! And I am good to go for the next eight hours.
Come to think of it, maybe someone stole the Mystery Nurse's cup of Top Ramen noodles. Or ruined her patterned silk blouse. Rotated her crops without permission. Established permanent residency in her backyard shed. Made whoopie with her ex. Inadvertently waxed nostalgic artifacts in her cauldron of despair.
Roommate
He's been sleeping for the past twelve hours. I appreciate the peace and quiet, but I am wondering if he's okay. Maybe it's a matter of being out of his pain meds.
A lot of Jeff's suffering is self-inflicted, but a fair percentage is not. And by the sounds of things, others suffer in his wake as well (family).
The message? Don't get sick. Don't get old. Legalize assisted suicide.
There should be established parameters regarding the care and treatment of the incapable elderly. They were once humans, too.
Supplies
Yes! My wife dropped off supplies at the front desk a little while ago (0923hrs). I'm going to like totally for sure O.D. on my probiotics. Something to Kill the Bloat. Repeat 10x while clapping maniacally - "Kill the Bloat!"
Speaking of words chanted and signage misspelled, we are now a society of inane three-word slogans. Somewhat recently, we used to be a society of several-word soundbytes. Prior to that? Headlines and front page news. Sooner than later, it'll be… Emojis. Nothing but faux faces. A return to caveman (and cavewoman) days chock full of grunts, groans and obscene gestures cannot be far behind.
Words We Don't Use Anymore: Antidisestablishmentarianism
M.E.
I know I don't hit on many illness related issues on this blog, but yes, I am still a practicing (and occasionally participating) member on this forum. I am not unintelligent, it's just that I don't quite understand what they're talking about in most threads.
If it can be seen, or visually represented, then yes, I can climb aboard. And if the subject matter involves methods of the mind, I am there, too. Things I've tried (supplements, etc.)? Yes, there's that as well.
Here and Now
I am performing undercover reconnaissance. And you know, I could tell these folks that I'm a writer of sorts, and perhaps mention that I have an active blog, and use this as a means to curry favor or preferential treatment. Or mention that I am trying to entice local media outlets into tagging along for the ride (I'm not, but I like the idea of doing so).
But that would be unfair to the other residents, the ones requiring more dedicated attention. And in order to attain an accurate picture of how operations like this actually run, I have to let this play out naturally. See, I am halfway imagining that I am on a secret mission of vital importance. My ego appreciates these sorts of false exercises.
Neglected
Roommate Jeff requires dedicated assistance with certain tasks/functions from time to time. And if these tasks aren't completed in a timely fashion, he not only suffers painfully, but there's potentially a large-scale clean-up involved.
So today, after waiting an hour to get anybody to respond, pain increasing, he starts becoming belligerent. Mind you, he's not been given his pain medication since last night. When they ran out. So, nearly twenty-hours later, he's legitimately pissed off.
I did my best to console him, redirect his focus, empathize, strategize.. yet still, no one was responding. So I called the front desk. I mean, what else could I do? So that woman called the nurses station for me, but nobody answered. And then she tried again. Shortly thereafter, the CNA arrived, saving the day.
The Angry Nurse? No idea.
Alleluiah! Shift Change!!
---- But what I find out will peel the paint off of your sky baby blue '77 Cutlass.
The Angry Nurse is working a double shift, so if she wasn't full-on angry-ass destructive before, she's probably ready to go nuclear right about now. A 17-hour shift… yikes.
Fortunately, I can change out the afternoon formula bag myself. Not easy, but heck, I used to be an athlete. Or in the least, fairly athletic. Coordinated? Not clumsy? Take your pick. Use your imagination. That's what I do. A lot. Ha!
Turnabout
I check in with my mother every day to go over a daily checklist of sorts, as her fading memory makes it nearly impossible to function on her own. I cannot afford to put her in a care facility that's both nice and reasonably priced.. and the state covered nursing facilities are on par with my current locale. Plus, she's wholly independent, defiant as hell, and would never stand for having a roommate, much less, in such close quarters.
Anyway, during today's conversation, she offered the following:
"You know, if you're ever bored there, you can call me up anytime. I'm in the same boat. No one else to talk to."
Her recognizing my situation was surprising. She's never really had any type of emotional awareness. And now, as she slowly approaches 90 years old…
Progress, right? Wow.
I cannot explain it, but I suddenly feel closer to my mother.
Take care. I am going to try and go back to sleep. Roommate Jeff has been up all night watching an "America's Loudest Stupidest Off-key Singer" marathon on his viewing device. Yes. Manufactured drama grates on me ----
H