When I started working at the assisted living facility, I just knew I'd have hundreds of hilarious stories for you all. And, I do.
However, there is a law that says I cannot talk about the residents in any manner that does not have to do with their care. And, since I'm forever trying to obey the law and stay within the lines, I will not be telling you stories about some of the lovely people I take care of.
However, there is no law that says I cannot make up my own stories. So, here are a few "fiction" stories. M'kay?
I do see lots of skin. Old people's jiggly bits. It's not pretty. But, it amazes me how fast I've gotten use to it.
Let's pretend that one night, an older gentleman pulled his call light (alerting us we need to go assist) and I entered his room to, oh, let's say...find him buck naked, sitting on his bed, with only his black circulation stockings on. Turns out he needed assistance getting the socks off. Which I did. As I left, I thought to myself: Self, how did you get to the point that seeing a 90 yr. old naked man doesn't even phase you any more? You are bad ass.
Let's pretend that one evening at dinner, I noticed a man choking. Not just "cough cough went down the wrong pipe" choking but CHOKING. In my story, let's say, I reached behind him, made a fist and proceeded to thrust inward and upward, thus pushing air up through his throat and the food dislodged itself. He was fine, breathing on his own, so I then continued to serve the orange sherbet. And, later that evening, after filling out the necessary paperwork, calling the man's family and updating them, I decided to go visit the man, to make sure all was well. He then told me the story of how he choked at dinner and it was scarey and a nice girl assisted him and he is ok. He totally didn't even realize it was me that had "assisted him". So,probably no medal for me. But, that's ok.
Or I could make up a story about a man that clung to me one night, crying out of loneliness, missing his wife of 60+ years. But, there's not much humor in that.
I am loving the job. Although it involves bodily fluids (and yes, solids) and nakedness and odd smells and all sorts of attitudes. I'm amazed at how attached I am to the residents and how much it hurts when they move on, either to another facility or...well....you know....
I love them all. And, that is not fiction.