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getbetterorelse's LiveJournal:
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| Wednesday, August 23rd, 2006 | | 11:16 pm |
News and other news
Ok, I'm going to bed so I'll make it quick: Sinfonia Ottawa (of which I am a member) is playing the Summer Concert. Who: token players from all the orchestras in the city Where: St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Sussex and Kent What: string ensemble with harpsichord and baritone soloist; selections by Bach, Mozart, Grieg, Cattell, and Graupner When: Aug. 29, 2006 at 8pm Why: well why the heck not? it's fun :) it promises to be a decent show. tickets are 10 or 15$ in advance, 15 or 20$ at the door (student/adult) AND I'm trying to get rid of my desk. It's really big, has a removeable hutch, pulls out to an L shape, filing cabinet, keyboard tray, CPU cabinet. If anyone's interested, let me know. It's a good, solid desk; but since I'm not a student anymore, I don't need such a massive workspace at home. Ta-ta Current Mood:  drunk | | Tuesday, August 1st, 2006 | | 6:38 pm |
"Hi Aggie!" "I wish I was..."
A girl I'm carpooling with to Arnprior (yes, it is a very long drive) told me her dad works as a cook in one of the retirement homes. Turns out it was one of the homes I worked. She said her dad had been telling her stories of this crazy old woman who used to be a stripper. "What's her name?" I asked. I wanted to know if she'd been one of my patients. "I'll check," said Nancy. "Do you remember an Aggie Jarvis?" Nancy asked me the next day. Boy, did I ever... Remember waaaaaay back in January when I wrote about a crazy rude woman in one of the homes? Oh wait. That could be anyone. She was this loud, vulgar, obnoxious woman and pretty much the progeny, I assumed, of an ADHD chimp and a demented lab rat on electroshock therapy. I ended up kicking her out of class (for a full story, scroll down to Jan. 30th entry...). In this, I referred to Aggie as "an 85-year-old-ballerina-wannabe"...I was slightly off with the exact discipline, apparently. And this woman, one of my patients, used to be a stripper. It really explains a lot, come to think of it. Now I'm just cursing myself for not having asked her for some tips during physio class... that coulda been interesting ;) Or disgusting and kinda creepy. Current Mood:  chipper | | Saturday, July 22nd, 2006 | | 12:53 pm |
in a grown-up job
So I've now been on the job for two weeks. It's going pretty well. Learning lots. One comment I've heard a couple times is "you don't have any microbiology experience?" No, I do not. And yet, somehow, they hired me OVER a micro grad... Anyway. I haven't found anything yet that I don't understand, and besides we have this lab upstairs, and it's called the micro lab, and there are REAL microbiologists up there, and I can, you know, ask questions 'n stuff if I don't understand something. Jeez. I was getting trained in Steam Sterilization on Monday, and I actually had to use calculus. As if. Like, integration, logs, F-sub-zero, F-bio, D-value, Z-value... craziness. But at least I'm using this brain, and it's nice to know it didn't completely atrophy while I was babysitting old people. The scope of my job, basically, is to design and implement protocols that validate the equipment and processes involved in manufacturing sterile product. So right now I'm working on qualifying some HEPA filters, looking at air flow velocity in the sterile area, trying to decide what level of cleaning procedure we need to execute in the event of a power outage, and preparing for media fill. Media fill is a biannual process where we fill Visine bottles with bacterial media, incubate them and see if anything grows. If it does, we have a major problem and...yeah, Canada, Eastern Europe and Russia will have some very red eyes while we try to figure out what went wrong. Apparently it's a huge process, takes 2 days, and everyone has to be there for it. Oh, and I'm in charge of coordinating it. Also, I got my safety shoes. They're purple steel-toes with cute little zippers on them. BTW, not a whole lot of choice in women's safety shoes, if anyone else is looking. AND. I got paid. Calculated a 75% increase on my last job. BOO-YEAH. Current Mood: happy | | Friday, July 7th, 2006 | | 10:16 pm |
all horrible things come to an end too, thank god
So much has happened in the last month at work. Mostly I got frustrated, hated my job, took out anger on other people, and finally, this past Wednesday.... I gave notice: "This is to inform you that I have accepted a new position effective Tuesday, July 11." Send. Not two weeks notice, heck no. Four days. And people aren't too happy with me. My coworkers, the other kins and physios, are happy for me, but sad that I'm leaving. My coordinator and the owners are mad. Jen (coordinator) was like "I hope she doesn't think she's getting a good recommendation from them now." Not that I need it, or would ever ask for a reference from ODPC unless I was auditioning for clown school. And my coworkers stuck up for me. They all know I've worked my ass off for a year here, and I never gave anyone any trouble at all. I hope Heather gets a new job and can leave next week too. Poor Jen; 7 months pregnant with a hernia, supposed to be on sick leave, and she somehow thinks this is her issue to deal with. This as the clinic owners take off on vacation yet again, leaving her to deal with the mess. Anyway. I have a new job!!!!!!!! I start Tuesday at Pfizer Global Manufacturing, Arnprior as the new Technical Services Specialist for the Visine area. It's a mat leave replacement, but permanent opportunities come up often there, so I'm not too worried. And the experience is gold. So's the pay. It's actually *gasp* a real grown-up job. It feels a little weird to be leaving my field, knowing that I prolly won't come back to it. But as Gianna says, I can always "kinesiologize" as a hobby. Thus, the journal of the worst rehabilitation worker ever comes to a close... my audience, I salute you. All, i dunno, 3 of you....? Current Mood: ecstatic | | Saturday, May 27th, 2006 | | 10:48 am |
Branflake?
My Thursday morning began thus: I show up a bit early to go collect people for class. Having just been informed that if I spend more than 15 minutes performing this task I will not be paid, I spend my time wisely. I only lost one person on the elevator this time. During class, one woman started complaining that her stockings were falling down. The woman beside her said she was lucky is wasn't her knickers. An entire discussion on whether we should be teaching old women to strip ensued. Then she sat down, hiked her skirt up to her waist and fixed her stockings. After class some sister of one of the new participants informed us that he'd had a hip replacement a week ago and the chairs were too low. She was going on and on about how we didn't know what sort of damage he might have incurred in that class... Laura got super mad and got in a fight with her. Gianna was trying to do damage control and I was trying to get Laura out of there. Laura was absolutely justified, but maybe didn't express herself that well. And I'm sorry, but if a sane man in his 60's can't tell the physio team that he's had a hip replacement and refuses to bring a height-appropriate chair cushion to class, how exactly are we supposed to help him? He needs to take a little responsibility here too, instead of just having his domineering sister with her tape measure yelling at us. At the next home, the woman who previously had a piece of marmelade toast in her wheelchair now had branflakes there. It's really gross. And sticky. Then we had the next patient who told us to stop talking unless we were talking to her. Who then would not sit down after walking because she was, at that moment, having a bowel movement. As we were holding her up by her pants. "Ok, then, whenever you're ready, reach for the wheelchair behind you..." | | Saturday, May 6th, 2006 | | 11:15 am |
Another one bites the dust
That's a horrible way to talk about one of my patients. But it's true. This guy that I see once a week passed away two weeks ago. I knew he was in hospital, but he gets admitted regularly for chronic bronchitis. It's a shame, he was totally with it and did really well with his physio. He wasn't one of those "just waiting to die" patients. The kicker, though, is that he died 2 weeks ago and I just found out yesterday, from one of the housekeepers in the elevator. Nursing is supposed to tell us these things, so I don't keep banging on doors of empty rooms, wasting my time. Granted, this is the home with the Director of Care who says "we have nothing to do with those people." But JEEZ, man. In other news, I am off for the next week so I can go to a conference about Social Justice Advocacy. This is my first vacation since I was hired. Am looking forward to it. ...on the flipside! Current Mood: excited | | Wednesday, May 3rd, 2006 | | 6:16 pm |
A caved in bumper is a sign of DOOM
So apparently we have a new hire. I have not met her yet, I just heard about her through the grapevine. She was in a car accident her second day. I think she she should take it as a sign to GET OUT NOW!!! The poor girl. In other news, I will be on vacation next week. My first vacation since I started working. Huzzah! Current Mood:  hungry | | Monday, May 1st, 2006 | | 11:25 pm |
How do I love my job? Let me count the ways;
I came up with zilch. Here's what I wrote on my time sheet today for the morning: 9:15 set-up 9:30 teach Hunt Club 9:45 ditto 10:00 travel 2km 10:15 teach Bridlewood 10:30 travel 20km 10:45 ditto 11:00 teach Orchardview ALF 11:15 ditto 11:30 teach Orchardview reg 11:45 ditto 12:00 LUNCH Here's what really happened: 9:15 arrived only to find all the carpet in the home had been torn up and replaced with sticky carpet glue; had to climb over 3 easychairs to get to elevator as stairs were inaccessible. There is only 1 elevator for the building. It is very slow and full of slow old people, who then also had to climb over chairs. 9:30-10:00 teaching 10:00-10:10 wait for elevator, as stairs are still covered in glue 10:10-10:20 Sysco delivery truck in the parking lot unloading perpendicular to rows of parked cars, effectively blocking my car in. Attempt to back out several times, keep hitting my bumper on truck wheel. Driver refuses to move truck. I am therefore stuck. He finally moves, I get out. 10:20-10:25 drive 2 km 10:25 start teaching 10 minutes late. There are only 2 people in class. Really worth it. 10:35 Gianna comes to relieve me so I can get a head start out to Manotick 10:35-11:00 travel 2km then find myself at a roadblock at the corner of Albion and Leitrim. Turn around, drive the long way (down Bank) 18km more 11:02 (late) arrive at Orchardview (manotick). There is a fire drill in progress. Sneak upstairs to class, only to find one patient and no chairs set up. All the doors are locked, patients are all in their rooms. Gather 2 more patients/bash down doors and drag invalids down hall 11:07 start teaching 11:22 finish my half-assed class 11:25 start downstairs class 11:55 finish downstairs class 12:00 drink copious amounts of coffee and steal eclairs from the "cafe" near the residents' kitchen. Wonder whether honesty in reporting daily work activies is really worth it. I'm gonna say no. Current Mood:  exhausted | | Wednesday, April 19th, 2006 | | 10:14 pm |
WOOF!
Intro: Remember in the movie "Girl, Interrupted" that scene where all the crazy girls start barking at another woman to totally unnerve her? The Story: So the class I teach in Manotick is fairly small. The chairs are set up in a circle in the "coffee lounge" area, and there are a bunch of couches and a little coffee bar there. There's this old man who likes to sit on the couches and entertain the ladies by insulting my class. It's really annoying. Needless to say, I don't like him very much. On Monday, there were no extra ladies around to entertain as he watched my class. So he started barking at me. Like, "woof, woof", as if he was a dog. I wasn't sure what to do - I'm not sure if he was just being an ass (as usual) or if he has Tourrette's/dementia or something and can't help it. I ignored him, but I may have to speak to a nurse if this continues. I mean, how many people have to put up with being woofed at? Maybe he wanted my tennis ball ;) I'll remember to throw some kibble his way next time I see him. Current Mood:  discontent | | Wednesday, April 12th, 2006 | | 5:45 pm |
Exercise your fruit!
So midway through my first class after lunch today, a man wanders into the class carrying an orange. He found an empty chair in the circle and sat in it. A couple minutes later he realized the rest of the class was standing behind the chairs so he stood up. But he didn't go behind the chair or do any of the exercises or anything, he just stood there, and eventually sat down again. After standing, I began handing out tennis balls for the manual dexterity/balance/strength exercises. I tried to give him one, but he couldn't take it because he already had an orange in his hand. "That's ok, you can use your orange," I said jokingly. But I couldn't stop laughing as he did indeed start rolling the orange between his hands, and turning it around using only his fingertips, and balancing it on his closed fist.... Then when I went to collect the balls (I walk around the circle and have the people drop their balls in a cloth bag I carry) he tried to give me his orange. I was nice, though; I let him keep it. After class one of the "with-it" ladies peeled the orange and gave it to him on a plate. She's like that, looking after the confused ones. On my way to my next home, I almost had an accident as a convertible whizzed past me with a pair of breasts flapping in the wind. So if anyone knows where I can get some male genitalia to hang from my rearview mirror, hook me up! And in my last home, one of my patients gave me and Easter present of...chocolate eggs! yay! Someone appreciates me! Current Mood: chipper | | Friday, April 7th, 2006 | | 5:56 pm |
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Gross-out moment: As I was handing out Therabands today during class, I noticed something on the floor behind the chair of one of the participants. I thought it was a leaf, and I was gonna kick it. Then I looked a little closer. "Is that what I think it is...?" I asked Gianna. The expression on her face was all the answer I needed. When the patient stood up to leave after class, we got a good look at the seat of his pants. And the chair, now desperately in need of a cleaning. How this guy managed to get shit stuck to the outside of his pants is beyond me. Especially enough to actually fall, in a glop, off his pants during standing exercise. I couldn't even stay in the room, I was gagging just knowing it was there. Ugh. What else is new... found out my lady who loves me actually has dementia, which explains a lot of her behaviour lately. And my guy who's been mising a lot of sessions lately has colon cancer and is an alcoholic. Also explains a lot. Just wish I knew some of these things before I started treating them. It wouldn't change my treatments in any way, but it would sure help me understand the "why" behind some of the stuff I encounter. Hurrah for inter-practitioner communications! Current Mood:  lethargic | | Wednesday, April 5th, 2006 | | 11:49 am |
Medical system errors strike again!
So there was this patient at one of the homes who was recently taken to hospital. She had stopped eating and drinking and was totally confused (not normal for her) and it seemed like she'd just given up. It took the doctor THREE WEEKS to come see her - he kept missing his own appointments. Finally he gets there and says it's cancer. No tests, no screening, just takes a look at the history and says cancer. He does not recommend any treatment or follow-up. She gets worse. The patient's son phones from Toronto to see how she's doing in physiotherapy. We say she's been sick, then chew out the nurses for not telling her son that she has cancer. They send her to hospital. Lots of tests are performed - CT, MRI, full neurological workup. She does not have cancer. She is still confused, and they don't know why (neurons misfiring for no reason). And now she's coming back to the retirement home. Maybe she'll eat something. I certainly hope they told her son that she is not, in fact, dying. They cancelled our Friday lunchtime meetings because we, the kinesiologists, had the audacity to bill for our time. They don't want to pay us for taking away our ESA-mandatory break where we try to make the company better and more efficient. How cheap can you get?! Current Mood:  nervous | | Saturday, March 25th, 2006 | | 3:14 pm |
Weekend Update
So my boss just came back from the Turks and Caicos where she was vacationing with her family. None of us staff were allowed to know that they were there, because it's so expensive and they're so cheap with us. Like we don't know they're rich. Like we don't know they live on Lansdowne, between the Israeli and Swiss embassies, in the ninth most-expensive house in Ottawa, valued at $3.8M on their last assessment (it was in the paper). Just in case anyone wants to go egg and TP that place ;) Here's a story, but not a nice one: I have a woman named Mrs. C who I see three times/week. She really likes me, even though she's very depressed and convinced nothing we do is going to make her better. Thing is, she's actually not that bad. She's 92, uses a walker, and is pretty safe with it, and fast. However, she has dementia and focuses on the fact that she's "shaky" and she thinks it's her nerves. She doesn't shake any more than I do, but often dementia can be exhibited in weird ways. Usually, we walk the hallway twice then do standing exercises at the railing. On Wednesday, I could barely get her up. We did exercises in bed then I had to beg her to go for a walk. She said she "didn't know how" so I had to verbally cue every move she made. We got halfway down the hall with me talking the whole way like this: "lift the right knee; kick out, right heel down, transfer weight forward; lift the left knee; kick out...." It was bizarre; I almost thought she was faking it. Usually you have to use verbal cues like that for Parkinson's but as far as I was aware, she didn't have that. So I went down to the nursing station and told them; I wanted to know if there'd been a change in medication or if the problem was cognitive. They were surprized and asked me to check back with them again after my Thursday treatment with her, because this was really not normal. Wednesday night she fell badly; broke her wrist and was found facedown in vomit that looked like she might have had stomach bleeding too. More seriously, though, is that she couldn't speak - just gibberish coming out, not real words. They think she had a stroke, so she's now in hospital and may be for a while. Or she may not come back, who knows? It's a weird feeling, knowing you were the first to notice the symptoms. Even though I did everything I was supposed to - cut the treatment short, inform nursing - now I start wondering if there were symptoms before that I didn't notice. But then, she's got dementia. How am I supposed to know when to believe her and when she's confused? This occupation involves more analysis than a lot of people think, and even though I knew that all along, I'm not directly faced with the consequences every day. I should be getting paid more. But here's a nice thing about my job (positive self-talk): Almost every day, the other kins and I are told how pretty we are. How we're such a treat to look at, etc. Old men want to share an elevator with me even if we're going in opposite directions because it's like being "in the presence of an angel." I'll be teaching class and the woman beside me interrupts to tell me I have beautiful skin. Or they want to be assured they'll have a figure like mine if they come to exercise class. One of the hairdressers told me I should "try for Miss Canada." And it's not like it's just me - my coworkers get it too. Nor are we all gorgeous or anything; we're just average. Don't worry - I don't let it go to my head. I know they have cataracts and macular degeneration and are severly myopic. I'm the only young person they see regularly, and they appreciate the smiles I give them more than the exercises. They'd say I'm pretty even if I was 400lbs and bald with reptilian scales. And even though it's shallow and superficial, it's nice to be appreciated in SOME way. Current Mood: content | | Thursday, March 16th, 2006 | | 6:24 pm |
I don't think we're in a cooperative health care system aymore, Toto
Dear God, I need a new job. Thanks, Melinda So today I had a little altercation with the staff at Rideau Gardens. That's the home I complain about the most. Anyway, I had to get some info for doctor referrals from the nursing station. Our clinic needs to have a doctor sign off on physiotherapy referrals in order to have OHIP pay for the treatment. So I go to the nursing station, where the Director of Care and the Head Nurse are sitting. The binders containing said info are in a cabinet behind them. Me: Hi, I need to get some info on a couple of people here for doctor referrals. D of C: What do you need? Me: Doctor's name, phone and fax, OHIP number, POA, and medical history. D of C: Can't you get that yourself? Me: I was told to get it here. D of C: (looking at my list of referrals) They're all retirement. We don't have anything to do with those people. Now, the list of patients I had were not living on the nursing floor, but I didn't know this, I just had their names. There is info on every resident in the building regardless of health status in the binders. But, it's just too much for them to turn around and give me the binder so I can find the stuff I need myself. No, I have to go interview all these people housed all over the building to try and get it. Getting medical info out of old people, by the way, is an exercise in futility. First, they think you're trying to scam them somehow because they don't remember who you are. Then they forget personal info like the fact they have a broken back or something. They don't know what OHIP is, and then they expect you to clean their bathroom. Housekeeping, physio, nursing... it's all the same to them. Also at the same home, I stood one of my patients up to do some wall exercises, and nearly gagged. My eyes were watering from the high ammonia content of her diaper. I've changed 2 week old litter boxes that weren't so bad. More later Current Mood: pissed | | Thursday, February 23rd, 2006 | | 10:48 pm |
just shoot me
On my way to work today, I looked in my rearview mirror at a stoplight and saw the driver in the car behind me was playing a harmonica. That was the highlight of the day. The second home I went to in the morning actually induced me to swear. Out loud. In front of old people. I mean, the PSWs are beyond useless. They're just sitting there in the dining room watching the Olympics, while EVERYONE needs to go to the bathroom as soon as I walk in. And when I tell them, it's just such a huge deal that they actually have to do their job and toilet their patients. I get my patient back, and she stills reeks of urine. She can't stand to exercise cuz she's in so much pain. From constipation. It sounds gross and silly, but people at this age die from blockage problems. I take her to the nurses, but they don't care to listen to her. Next patient has spit-up/drooly mess on her shirt and is sleeping in it. A PSW shoves some Kleenex on the mess and leaves them there. This is an ongoing problem, it's nothing new. One of the residents actually asked me to help her kill herself once. I mean, people in prisons are treated better than this. There is absolutely no reason that patients should have to sit in their own urine and vomit. Especially considering the amount of money their families are paying to keep their relatives there and "out of a nursing home." It's disgusting. It's not the patients' fault; they're old and need help and they're not getting it. I was thisclose to going to complain to the Director of Care, but I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow so I'll see if she wants to handle it herself. Meanwhile, don't send anyone you care about to Rideau Gardens if they need nursing care. Our meeting on Monday night was pointless, again. We learned that there are "sharks" around, or competition, so we have to extra good about making sure our company is the best by staying in touch with the home staff concerning patient care. Or lack thereof, I guess. Current Mood: disillusioned | | Friday, February 17th, 2006 | | 5:44 pm |
Oh look, it's Hell.... frozen over!
This day was such a mess, I may as well just start at the beginning. I knew there was supposed to be freezing rain last night. So this morning, I got out the door a little earlier in order to scrape off my car, as I do not have covered parking. Lo and behold, this was no ordinary icing. No, it was a solid inch thick. And my scraper was in the trunk. Which I could not open, as it was iced shut. I tried to use the handle of a hairbrush to lever the trunk open. It broke. I went back in the house to find a stronger implement. A metal potato masher did the trick, eventually. It then took me over 20 minutes to carve big enough holes to see through. The highway was going 30 km/hr. I was 15 minutes late - luckily I work with a great physio who started the class for me. Even then, there were only 6 people in class "because of the weather." I'm like, if I made that much effort to get to class, then so can all 14 of you! It's not like the halls were icy. Next class: It was getting pretty cold by this point. Precipitation was no longer rain, more like sleet. And the wind was picking up. The class was in a new room because the home is under construction, which was great for me cuz usually the construction noises are really disruptive for class. Midway through the standing portion, when we're reaching forward and stretching, this booming voice from the back of the room yells "Two minute penalty for hooking!!!" I just about had a heart attack, he scared me so much...I always think someone's gonna fall during standing that I'm easily startled. Usually this man sits in the front row, where he makes "calls" like "travelling" and "penalty declined", depending on what exercise we're doing. If he pulls that again, though, there might be a "roughing" call out soon.... kidding. Actually, I like him a lot. Livens up the class, once I can laugh about it. About two minutes after Mr. Huff's referee status was recinded, the fire alarm went off. And kept going until the end of the class. I had such a headache... but you can't leave, once it starts. It's not like school drills where you all go outside and wait. Here, they lock you in the rooms till the fire department comes to turn off the alarm. Jeez. Anyway, by the time we left, the weather had taken a turn for the horrific. It was so windy we could barely stand upright, and blowing snow reduced visibility to about 30 meters. All the puddles were starting to freeze over, making the whole roadway into a skating rink. Yet still, we pressed on. The next home was pretty uneventful. And then after, we had a staff meeting. It was pointless. Only for kins, our boss was there to tell us about the mobility program, and how we needed to be more proactive in getting everyone with doctor's referrals to come to class. In our "extra time". We all laughed at that. And at "getting the home staff to help us". That was a good one. Essentially, it was nothing we didn't already know, but nothing we could do anything about. They physios have more time than we do; they should be doing this part of the job. We have another staff meeting on Monday night, after hours. Looking forward to that... So then I had a couple more patients....one didn't want to exercise cuz he wasn't feeling well, but he was able to manage quite a bit. And then another who'd been in hospital for weeks, the one who used to tell me dirty stories. I actually got him to walk with me, which was totally unprecedented. I thought he'd be in worse shape. Then I went to another home and had to use my handy-dandy potato masher to lever open the trunk again. I'm keeping that utensil on me, mark my words. Couple more patients...travel in horrible, icy, windy conditions, more patients.... notice a trend? My last lady of the day didn't have her dentures in. Sounds horrible to say it, but it was the highlight of my day cuz we didn't have to talk too much. And it was payday, but I didn't have time to go to the clinic to get paid. And that new Polish employee is gone - lasted only a week. So we're hiring again... anyone interested? Anyone? Current Mood: wiped | | Thursday, February 16th, 2006 | | 5:53 pm |
Someday my prince will come.... with an oncologist in tow
You know, much as I love old people (and that was not entirely sarcastic) there are times when I'd just like to be left alone. Whenever I have a break (ie: lunchtime) I have to eat in the homes or in my car. And just cuz I'm not busy, doesn't mean I want to be bugged! They come up and see what I'm having, and ask a bunch of questions, or comment on the way I cut my kiwi... it's well-intentioned and I know they're just being nice, but I just want to eat without having to put on my smiley face. This Tuesday, I had part of the day off due to Valentine's Day parties to which I was not invited. So I ate in one of the homes instead of going home for lunch, and just as I started eating, this old guy comes in, and without speaking, sticks a classical piano CD in, cranks it way up, and starts doing laps around the activity room. I mean, I exercise with old people all day, all I want is 1/2 an hour of no-old-people-exercise.... but it's just not gonna happen. The next day, I was sitting in my car eating yogurt and this old man parks next to me, gets out a tarp and starts covering his windshield with it. This takes a while, cuz he doesn't move very fast. When finished, he taps on my driver's side window, and when I roll down the window, gets into this big conversation with me about how well I think the tarp will hold up, and why does a little tarp cost almost as much as a big one at Canadian Tire. HOW WOULD I KNOW? I JUST WANT TO EAT MY YOGURT IN MY CAR IN THE PARKING LOT! IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK? Apparently so. I just realized how much I eat during the day. Good thing my job is constant exercise. One of my patients wanted to try something new this week, the day after Valentine's. Usually we just do some seated leg exercises and *try* to walk a bit. She's pretty weak. But on Wednesday, she wanted to practice sitting and standing so she could do it better on her own. Why the sudden interest in independence? She has a new boyfriend. And she doesn't want to look so silly needing help to stand in front of him. THIS is what it took to motivate her. A 90-year-old former surgeon with brain cancer. You never know where you'll find him, I guess. Current Mood: incredulous | | Saturday, February 11th, 2006 | | 2:09 pm |
| | Friday, February 10th, 2006 | | 6:40 pm |
February blahs
Can't say things have been particularly interesting lately. I got pretty mad that they haven't hired someone to replace the girl that left, then I met the person they hired this morning. She seems nice enough, but I'm not sure exactly what she is... not a kinesiologist, I'm pretty sure. She was working in massage therapy, so I think they're considering her a PTA, but she didn't mention she had a diploma or amything. Whatever, not my problem. I just hope it doesn't become my problem if she's only qualified to do certain things like teach classes and then they change my schedule to give me all the other stuff, like cranky individuals. I got another raise. Not a big one, but I got a nice little note of appreciation that meant more anyways. Always nice to be appreciated. But then, another coworker of mine is owed her 3-month raise and they haven't given it to her. She's always being questioned on her time sheets and they don't seem to trust her at all, which is totally unjustified because she does at least as good a job as the rest of us. I hate being on the receiving end of this kind of blatant favouritism, but what am I supposed to do about it? I'm just as stuck as she is. I saw Angela Hewitt today in one of the homes. Her mother is one of my patients. Cool. Current Mood:  frustrated | | Tuesday, January 31st, 2006 | | 10:21 pm |
Tuesday is the most non-descript 24 hours of the week
I told Gianna about the incident last night where I kicked that woman out of class; now she threatens people who are too loud when she's assessing them with "Shh! Melinda will kick you out!" Awesome. One of my favourite patients died. She was cool, when she was with it. But then she started to slip, got complications from Type II diabetes.... at one point she was so distressed she started getting really aggressive. Then when she became bedridden I was only able to see her once for passive ROM exercises, and she was so glad to see me, she didn't want to let go of my hands and couldn't stop smiling.... then there was no point in going any more. I mean, if I'm scheduling my visit around the priest's visit, there's a chance I'm not really needed any more, y'know? But I will miss her. RIP, Mrs. Otterman. Current Mood: full |
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