Instead of writing about my past experiences at my first Clinical rotation, I will try my best to stay current. I can't relive the same feelings I have felt that would have enabled me write about my first Clinical rotation's experience, but I will remember it. And it's an experience that I would forever cherish in my heart.
A man has lost hope. He claims that he wants to die. Yet his presence has sparked my soul. The elderly may generally think that they do not have any purpose to breath, feeling incompetent to themselves and others. However, they are still people in my mind, and every single person can create an impact. People may have different views to live, like most of the people, and the elderly, in that their role in life is to raise their children, and work until their physically and mentally tired, or disabled by nature's will. I don't know what I'm saying anymore, but I think everyone has the right to live, no matter if they're disabled, evil, or crazy, or whatever. I enjoyed my time at this facility. It was so refreshing, interacting with people with dementia, and disabilities. It was a calming experience. It made me forget my personal troubles, even though I was having trouble at the facility, the disappearance of my own personal troubles exceeds normal trouble.
I got to experience real history. The elderly, this is everyone's final result that we can witness that will happen to us. We will get old. But we will still live, and we have to live our best. Being a CNA has reminded me that everyone needs help. Whether its the elderly, or young kids, everyone wants to be helped in life, and everyone wants to feel good. MV, my favorite, who I first fed, who was suffering from depression, was still living. Pushing after four years. Paralyzed. Waiting to die. Checking off "It is not wonderful to be alive." What do you do when it's not wonderful to be alive? Naturally, we can't kill ourselves, but we have to live somehow. During that time in between death and the ignition of depression, what do we do? I'm not trying to say that only certain people touch my lives, they all do. DT also said he wanted to die.
Before entering a resident's room, a picture of them, usually, of what they looked like when they were younger, accompanies the room number. Seeing their picture when they were younger was also a gift of fascination this facility offered. My first weeks in here, was truly emotionally draining. That these people, who say HALP, I NEeD TO PEE, IS THERE CAKE? , used to be out of this facility. They used to walk in the streets, and can comprehend what's around them, and are like everyone else. But they change. I wonder if people with dementia are really conscious, but it's just their outer self acting. And the true "person" really doesn't know what he's doing in the outer world, but inside, they feel the same as everyone else who isn't diagnosed with "dimentia".
Anyway, back to DT. I would feed him, and rub his back if he fell asleep while I was feeding him. I took him to the bathroom when he needed to go, answered his call lights even though my heart dropped. His family was there, his daughter and son one time, and he said IT'S MY BUDDY when I answered the call light. I felt so happy and good about myself that I was called his buddy. I felt like I was the only person who was doing the best to give the best possible experience. And maybe that's what I'm looking for in life. To do something no one else can do, so I try my best to be better than everyone, because no one can be better than the best, and ew I sound so arrogant, but it's the truth. I did the same sort of back rub in Bingo to O. She would always yell at people, spit at people, and throw her drinks at people. But she was sitting, closing her eyes and I rubbed her back while placing the chips on their respected spots on the Bingo board. And when I had to go, she said thank you. For breakfast, she eats in the room where unconscious looking-people go to be fed, yet she said thank you and smiled, which made me feel good. And I know that she was alert when I did what I did because she looked at ease when I calmed her.
I'll never forget Mr. C who needs to P. MV, who I can most relate to. Professor L and his History channel, MA and her thoughts, my buddy DT, O's smile and teeth. I did not see it, but one of my friends in my clinical would say that he would rub his wedding band, and smile or look sad. His wife died a few years ago. Nursing Homes are so emotionally draining. It's like a different world like no other. However, it's a satisfying sort of emotional draining. Like raising kids. I haven't raised kids yet, but we do it anyway no matter how tiring it is. I only regret not documenting my experiences every single time I've spent there. The new facility where I'm at, is alright. I'm getting used to it. I brought a lady milk, since she used the signal light to call and ask for milk, and she said thank you. But before that, me and my friend were talking to her. And that lady was hitting on me. Oh well.
Today's my brother's birthday, and I was invited to a friend's birthday tomorrow but I can't make it. GO NEW ORLEANS HORNETS.
