Three Meals a Day and a Bed

I have a draft saved of some quotes from residents back at the nursing home where I used to work, waiting to be turned into these beloved blog-posts that tear at your heartstrings (they do tear at your heartstrings, right?).  Ah, in either case, I like re-reading the quotes I wrote down.  I like thinking about them and developing a post about them.  Somehow what a resident said to me in 2 or 3 sentences always has enough depth to it that I feel like I need to write a novel to process it fully.

Maybe it's because I remember the emotion on their face when they said things.  I remember the way they clasped their hands together nervously, or the way their eyes tried to fight back a tear.  Words aren't everything, you know?  Some of them may have had no words at all, but they still had stories.

I recall one quote in particular this week as we're approaching Thanksgiving - she was a resident from another floor that had come down to play bingo with my group of residents who had Alzheimer's/dementia.  As I was taking her back up to her room, she said to me:

"I don't know how you do it, work with these sick people all the time.  Do you love it?  You'd have to love it.  I couldn't do it - it would make me so sad.  I wish we had more people like you here." 

She was right, the job did make me sad.  I shed my fair share of tears over residents I'd grown to love passing away.  I'd also hardened my heart enough at times to not shed a single tear over the death of some of my favorites just so I could keep smiling for the rest.  It was a thankless job that left me crying on the days I cared too much, and feeling guilty about the days I cared too little.

But that part didn't matter.  That part was just part of the territory, something you learned to deal with.  (See "Better to Have Loved and Lost").  You learn to cope with the "sad" parts.  You have to.  And besides, they're balanced out by more happy moments than you might think!

The thing that really struck me was that she, a 90-plus year old woman herself, saw my residents as "sick people."  She perceived their mental disabilities and immediately identified it as something she didn't want to be, much less care for.  Don't get me wrong, she was one of the absolute sweetest residents I ever knew.  A true gentle spirit.

But that's the nature of the work.  Even the gentlest of hearts are not always cut out to care for the aged, the demented, the sick.  It takes a special heart, a very special heart indeed.

This Thanksgiving I want to recognize all the nurses, aides, social workers, doctors, and countless other roles who dedicate their hearts to caring.  I had the unique privilege to witness firsthand what these people do for our senior citizens day after day, and I will always admire them for it.  There literally are not enough words to express the degree of gratitude appropriate for the contribution they make, so instead I'll turn to another quote from Derek.

The main care-taker in the show's "Old People's Home," Hannah, is the most beautifully accurate portrayal of the self-sacrifice practiced by so many of our care-givers, sacrifice that often goes completely unnoticed.

Her words are gold:

"People think care means three meals a day and a bed.  But it means caring.  And if you don’t care, you shouldn’t be in the job.  They deserve all the same pleasures as anyone else.  Just because they’re old and poor and weak, they’re forgotten..."

“I’ve learned that you’ve got to look after people, that it’s important to care for people; that you shouldn’t be selfish, you should try and look after the old and the ill and the weak, you know?  And then you’ll never be stuck for something to do, because there’ll always be people to look after.  It never stops.  There’s no end.”

Like I said, words aren't everything, so you should probably watch the show and hear her say it for yourself ;) But in the meantime, stop and think about those who invest so much of their time and heart to care for people the rest of the world has forgotten.

THANK YOU to all the nurses and aides specifically, and all the other staff and volunteers who know what it means to truly care.  And thank you to their families who see first-hand the toll that degree of caring can take.  It is truly a special responsibility.

One more thing I'm thankful for: This awesome program a friend showed me and the people who organized it.  If you're in the Lincoln area, think about taking part!  Everybody else, consider calling up your local nursing home and asking what special needs they might need a little extra help with this Christmas.  The smallest gesture often makes a world of difference!

Happy Thanksgiving! 

The Best Classroom In the World

Where Am I?

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.  A little bit of a long while.  To say my life has been a blur since the last post would be an understatement.  I'm in law school now.  Oh, I'm married now too.  Funny the twists life takes, isn't it?  If you look at my last post from April 2012 it's a little bit ironic I ended up meeting my husband just a couple months later.  Life is funny like that.  But this is a blog about old people, and while my hubby is awesome and all, he's not old yet.  So we'll move on.

If you'd asked me a year and a half ago if I'd be sitting on a couch in Nebraska right now surrounded by first year law books and stressed out of my mind about upcoming finals, I would've laughed in your face.  The short version of the story is this:

I loved my job as an activities technician immensely - so much so that I just had to be my dreamy, idealistic self and decide to make it better.  I found myself getting worn out (caring about people takes its toll on a girl!).  But I thought that was a selfish thing to worry about, so I kept trudging along.  I always swore I would never let it become "just a job" - that I would always go the extra mile for my residents.  Yet there I was, slowly but surely letting that happen.  The sad thing?  I had only been there for a year and a half, and I was only 22.  Not to mention I had the "fun" job, you know because all we have to do is play bingo all the time, right? (<--sarcasm).  But still, it dawned on me one day: If I'm this worn out being a young, spry little chicken with what should be the most fun job in the world, how do all these nurses and aides and administrators feel?  People who dedicate their lives to this field, doing the "dirty work," probably entering into it as enthusiastically as I did, only to be worn down over time to where it becomes "just a job."  Caring for our elders is the most rewarding job a person can have.  Unfortunately, it's also one of the most thankless.

Inspired by the people around me, and by my own fatigue and frustration, I started to wonder why things couldn't be better.  I didn't know how exactly they could (I still don't), but I knew there definitely was room for improvement.  As much as I loved my residents, I knew if I stayed in that position for long, I would continue to be frustrated with the inadequacies of our system.

So I took a leap.  I studied my buns off, ate a ton of blueberries (Eat Smart for a Healthier Brain), and took the LSAT.  I figured if anything was ever going to actually improve, it had to come from the top.  Nursing homes are incredibly regulated by the government; everything we did was in response to regulations.  Regulations that I didn't understand.  Regulations that I want to understand.  Regulations written by people who probably don't understand.  People who probably either never knew or have forgotten what it's like to be doing the dirty work.

I found out there were only two schools in the country that offer a law degree coupled with a masters in gerontology: University of Southern California and University of Nebraska.  As much as I'd love to take my chances with the California sun, I found myself applying to Nebraska and here I am (that wonderful hubby tagging along was a completely unexpected but oh-so-life-saving bonus).  

I'll admit, sometimes it's really hard to be motivated to read through case after case about property titles, sales of goods contracts, federal jurisdiction, etc etc etc.  It's hard to imagine how this is going to help me make the world a little better for our senior citizens and those who care for them.  I'd rather be back at my old job, sitting on a resident's bed while they tell me stories (stories so rich it's hard to believe they're real, but knowing that they are because the truth just pours out of the resident's eyes).  Having them look at me like I'm the only person in the world who took the time to listen.  I don't want to sit here, day after day reading page after page, straining to understand concepts that seem so far off topic from my goals. 

That's why I'm grateful for the things that remind me why I'm here.

My brother-in-law introduced me to the show "Derek" a couple months ago.  I don't think the timing was a coincidence.  For one thing, Ricky Gervais is a genius (he's the guy that created the original British version of The Office).  If you haven't heard of the show, go watch it on Netflix.  I'll probably write my next post solely about it, I love it that much.  Some of the quotes put me in my place just when I need it most.

I'm also grateful I found a nursing home here to volunteer at twice a month.  It's not much of a time commitment (unfortunately law school likes to tell you they own all of your time), but I get to hear some stories again.  I get to look into those truthful eyes, and at the staff tirelessly caring for them, and I remember who I'm doing this for.

I find myself being so appreciative of all the moments I've had that brought me to this point.  I think back to my own grandparents.  To the old woman in England who got this whole thing rolling over a simple cup of tea.  To my parents who taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.  To my older sisters who showed me I can do anything I put my mind to.

I think of all that, and I remember why I'm here.  And suddenly I'm not so worried about how dull my reading assignments are.  It's like Kev said in episode 7 of Derek: 

"I should have tried, yes, should have worked hard.  But I gambled.  And I drank.  And I begged, and I hoped, and I cowered.  I’m a failure, I guess.  But I’m not a failure ‘cause I didn’t succeed.  I’m a failure ‘cause I didn’t try."

I have to try.  So for now, I'll keep reading...