Who Pooped?!

So after passing my test, I headed out to find my first CNA job.  I interviewed at a skilled nursing facility in town.  The woman that interviewed me was really nice and she went on and on about what a "family" they were there.  They offered me the job on the spot & I accepted.  The woman who interviewed me quit a week later...that should have been my first clue.  It wasn't all bad, but it was and still is the hardest job I've ever had.  I usually took care of about 20-22 residents, by myself.  I never had a partner like I was supposed to.  I'll never forget trying to lift these big men and basically falling over them when I transferred them.  Here are a few of my favorite resident stories from my 5 months as a CNA in a nursing home...

There was a woman there who could just sense that I was new, young & naive.  The trifecta if you will.  I could never figure out why she was always asking me for water, and juice, and soda.  Like all the time.  I always gave it to her of course, who am I to dehydrate the woman?  Finally her nurse informed me that she was on dialysis and on a strict fluid restriction.  Lesson learned, always ask the nurse before giving patients food & drink....and never trust dialysis patients...

Then there was sweet Pam who would sit in the hall, day after day and say "help me, help me, help me please," in the sweetest little voice.  A sure-fire way to never be ignored.  Every single person who walked by would say "what can I help you with?"  Pam would always reply: "Well, I don't know." 

There was Beth who made me hand wash and hang dry all her undergarments every single fricken night.  I mean, I'm all for taking care of clothes, but lets get real...I had butts to wipe.  Then I would have to take her mini water bottles that her daughter supplied her with and I had to empty some of the water out of 5 of them, and funnel in the mini ice chips from the cafeteria.  It drove me a little crazy, but she gave me candy every night...only after the hand washing of undies and funneling of ice so I guess it was worth it.  She also called me her sunshine--that was nice :)

Last but certainly not least there was Ethel.  One evening before dinner another aide asked me to help her with a resident in the bathroom.  Little did I know the treat I was in for.  I go into the bathroom to find Ethel in her wheelchair, pants down, and poop evvverrryyywhere.  Literally everywhere.  Legs, arms, hair, face...you get the idea.  She was rolling back and forth & back and forth in the poop shouting "WHO POOPED?!  IT WASN'T ME!"  I kept quiet until she wheeled right up to me and shouts: "If you don't tell me who did this, my son will lynch you."  Really lady?  I had already tried unsuccessfully multiple times to remind her that she had pooped...to which she responded "there's no way, I'm a former nurse, the only way I poop is with an enema."  I still have never understood the connection on these two facts.  I'm now a nurse, and don't need an enema to poop, still fuzzy on her logic.  So I finally tell her, "You know what Ethel, I pooped.  It was me!"  She looks right at me, covered from head to toe in poop, wheelchair and all, and says, "you disgust me."  I spent the next hour cleaning the poop out of her chair.