Blog Hopping Weekend!

I'm kind of new to the world of blog hops, so when I found the "Fun Weekend Blog Hop" hosted by Raven of "Pumps, Pacifiers and the World" I had to get my hoppin' shoes on! WAHOO!

I've had 3 children and pumped for all of them. I nursed the first two. My daughter was born at 32 weeks and they tube fed her for a while...long enough so that she never took to nursing, but I still pumped, so she got breast milk. Her 8th birthday is next week...and she is VERY excited! *lol*

Like Joanna of "Figuring Out the Small Stuff", I hate having to give something a numerical rating as a measure of value. It rates right up there with the questions "Does this make me look fat?" and, "So what do you think of my new boyfriend?" ;)

Another new bloggy friend I made today is Jacqueline of "Chez Mukweto". Like me, she educates her children at home. She is also my new crafting idol.

I'm a bit jealous of MizReviewLady at "Mommy Reviews and More" because of her new socks. You'll have to visit her to find out why! *hahaha*

So...what's new in my life?

At the end of September, I was kicked in the knee at work (a residential/teaching facility for adults with MR/DD). A week ago Monday I finally had an operation and I'm recuperating from that. I'm sore and grouchy...but my family has been great, picking up the slack and all. A lady from church even brought over supper one day last week to help out.

So while the pain and lower income kind of, well, suck, I have had more time to spend with my family. I went to work the week after DD came home from the hospital and with one or two exceptions, I have been working since she was born and feel like I have missed so much. So this time is very, very precious to me.

Lucky Not-a-Stroke

On Tuesday, August 18th, 2009, I was not feeling very well. I could tell my blood pressure was up and my feet looked like they belonged to the Michelin Man. So, I decided to go to the doctor on the way in to work.

I arrived, paid my copay and waited...and waited...and waited. People who came in after me (even walk-ins) were going in before me. Then the receptionist called me to the window and informed me that I had a $60 balance from a previous visit and they needed to collect at least $40 of it that day. I told her I had $5 left on my debit card and maybe $3 in my pocket. She said "just a minute" and went into the back. Shortly thereafter she came back to the window and said that that would be ok (they would take the approximately $8 I had left and I could be seen by the doctor). I was stressed already and said I needed to make a phone call. I started to call my husband, but before he could pick up, I hung up the phone and told the receptionist that they could keep the $15 I had paid towards the bill and that I would be back to see them on Friday when I got paid.

By this time I was visibly upset. I turned to go and she said, "Ms. B, just a minute." I held up a hand "talk to the hand" style, said, "I can't," and proceeded to leave the office. By the time I got to my car, I was hacking like I was going to throw up. My heart was racing and I was gasping for air. (DH thinks I was having a panic attack at this point...although he was at home with the kids.)

I probably should have gone to the hospital, but all I could think of was getting to work, because it was already past the 2 hrs prior to shift deadline in order to call in.

Parking really, really sucks where I work. I parked in a slightly "not approved" spot, but shoot, I wasn't going to walk up the long hill feeling the way I did. As I walked to my cottage, my eyes were swimming and I was walking...not weaving, but not in a straight line either.

The first shift nurse (LPN) was there and I asked her to take my blood pressure. She did and said, "just a minute" and went to get the RN. She came in and took my bp again and informed me that it was 212/110. This information did nothing for my racing heart and labored breathing. My lips had been going numb and were hard to move. Once or twice I remember sticking a finger or two into my mouth to separate my lips. My right hand was becoming hard to move.

More and more people started coming into the room. I remember calling my supervisor and telling her what was going on, saying, "I didn't want people to think I was a 'no-call, no-show'." HOW STUPID IS THAT? I was close to having a stroke and I was worried about how it would affect my job! The nurse asked if I wanted them to call and ambulance and I said I didn't think it was necessary. They arranged to have a co-worker take me to the hospital, as I had my family's only car with me. I was taken out to the car in a wheelchair, because the medical staff didn't want me walking.

Originally one of the nurses was going to take me, but when she asked someone to clock her out, the coordinator said that she would have to stay and clock out herself. So someone from 1st shift in the cottage in which I work took me. I babbled incessantly on the way to the ER, I suppose trying to keep myself together.

More to come tomorrow....

Individual Meaning

The following is a quote I got in an email from Beliefnet.com:

The life of the individual only has meaning insofar as it aids in making the life of every living thing nobler and more beautiful. Life is sacred that is to say, it is the supreme value to which all other values are subordinate.
Albert Einstein


This quote helps me feel better about some of the choices I've made in my life. For instance:

I have a Magna Cum Laude degree in Finance from a private college in Utah, and could have chosen a career path that brought me more "success" in the eyes of the world. And certainly near-empty cupboards and scrounging in the couch for gas money in the days before payday isn't the life of which I dreamed. But the job I have now is the most fulfilling I've ever had ... because I see the difference I'm making in the lives of other people every day I go into work.

The people with whom I work are adults with MR/DD (mental retardation and developmental disabilities). They also have a host of other medical and psychiatric issues. Neither they, nor I, will ever have a corner suite in the tallest office building in town. For some of the lower functioning residents, learning to place their silverware beside their plate (something most of us take for granted) is a monumental victory. The "higher functioning" residents learn impulse control and anger management. The goal for all of the residents is to be able to live outside the facility, independently or in a group home...but some will never do so. But that doesn't mean that their lives don't have meaning or that they are 2nd-class citizens.

One of the ladies with whom I work is 73 years old. She was "normal" until just over a year old, when a high fever caused her to start having seizures. That she has lived this long is nothing short of astounding. She laughs most of the day...full, throaty, head thrown back, face turning red guffaws. I don't laugh that much now ... and people consider I have the "better" life. My life is richer for knowing her. In fact, I want to be like her when I grow up. *LOL*

I'm not saying this to get "good for you" comments from other people or to say that I have chosen a "higher" path. I have chosen my path ... one that works for me. It takes all kinds of people and all types of paths to make society function.

I do have to get on a soapbox for a moment here about my work. The facility is one of the largest ICF's (intermediate care facilities) for the MR population in Kentucky. It is located on prime real estate in the center of town. The land was donated by a local businessman with the stipulation if the facility ever closed, the land would revert back to him. For years now, various governmental agencies have been finding numerous faults with the care practices at the facility ... mostly on the administrative end of things, but certainly some cases of shameful abuse has occurred. There was one article in the local paper in the time I've worked at the facility that had something nice to say about it (and I nearly fell out of my chair when I read it)!

But what most people seem to overlook is that by and large, the residents would not get better care elsewhere. We are being pressured to "herd 'em up and move 'em out", treating our residents as little better than cattle. These people are not units to be managed, they are human beings with dreams and aspirations, likes and dislikes ... the same as all us "normal" folk.

Random Thoughts on My Job

Well, had to smoke on the front porch tonight...it was raining and the back porch doesn't have a roof. Anyway, apparently the front porch is good for generating ideas too.

Everyone is always touting "active treatment" at work. And I agree with the idea, up to a point. There are some folks who would, if left to their own devices, put residents in the bed or in front of the tv so they could be on their cell phones or whatever. (The ladies and gents living in my building are lower functioning than most of the people on the facility, many of them in wheelchairs, and for the most part stay where they're parked.

But I think the idea can go too far, too. They get up between 6 and 7 am, have breakfast and are in classes, work, therapy (whatever) by 9 am. After 3 hours, they come home for lunch and are gone at 1pm again until 4. Then they come home and we take them to the on-site "bank" and coffee shop...except for the residents with g-tubes, who don't get anything by mouth. Some homes, you can send one staff with 3-4 residents on such a "trip", because these residents can walk independently. In my home, it's 1:1 due to gait or wheelchair, or in one case 2:1. Yet, we get the same amount of staff as in other homes ... no more. *sigh*

We are also supposed to keep our residents "active" doing "age-appropriate" activities until supper, after supper until bath-time and after that until bedtime ... which they would put between 9 and 10 pm.

GET REAL! I DON'T DO THAT IN MY OWN LIFE! DO YOU?

Anyhow, I know I'm not a physical therapist, but it occurred to me that there are many things we could do that could assist our residents (which in my case are ladies) to at least maintain range of motion and strength. For the ladies in wheelchairs, we could raise and lower their lower legs (individually or together), supporting them underneath.

I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas on this post.

Happy New Year's Celebration - So-so New Year

Well, I had yesterday and today off, so it was a Happy New Year's celebration for me! *lol*

But I went to do the Thursday Thirteen meme today, and www.thursdaythirteen.com points to a goDaddy website for hosting. *sheesh* And I have to go back to work tomorrow. And after our little shift meeting on Tuesday at 10:45 pm, I decided that my primary resolution for 2009 is to GET A NEW JOB!

I work with mentally and physically challenged adults, specifically the "lower functioning" clients. There are seven ladies in my 'cottage'. Five of them are in wheelchairs. Five (not necessarily the same ones) are in "adult protective undergarments". Several of them can talk - but not in complete sentences usually.

My main problem right now is that the clients in other cottages, the "higher functioning" ones - those who can express themselves, who can walk, use the bathroom independently, refuse classes, medicines, etc. are the ones who seem to get all the privileges and get to enjoy the rights we are always being told the 'individuals' have. My ladies do not. Neither do similarly abled gentlemen residents. There is one, who is in a specialized wheelchair. On 2nd shift (my shift) he is supposed to be put in a chair that cranks up and supports his body to where he is standing. Would his life improve if he could stand on his own? No argument there. Problem is, he HATES it. Mention the word, let him catch a glimpse of the "stander" and he swears, spits, scratches himself ... and is upset for the rest of the evening. But we were told Tuesday that he DOES NOT HAVE THE RIGHT to refuse, that a "team of experts" came up with this plan to improve his life.

This "team" of experts gain their knowledge of this man by reading about him in a notebook. If they're lucky, they may have a picture. If they are outstanding ... they have made the effort to come out and see him in person. NONE of them "KNOW" him. But their views and opinions of what is best for him and what he likes is crammed down his (and our) throat(s) every day.

It's not the experts, the ones apparently so knowledgable about this man (or any of the residents there, for that matter) that help this man feed himself. They don't try to explain to him over and over again why it is a good thing that he can still get on the toilet i/o tossed in a bed for a diaper change. "They" aren't the ones who clean up after the man after he vomits or wipes his forehead when he has a fever. And they would be the ones standing outside the burning cottage while the floor staff (including me) would be willingly risking our lives to get the residents out of a fire.

I should probably stop now. I'm getting upset. *sigh*

Elvis is going bald - and other porchervations

I spent some time with my daughter on the back porch today. Unfortunately, she has inherited her father's sense of style...she was wearing a pink, white and black plaid skirt and a long-flowy sleeved leopard print blouse. (I may be a tee shirt and jeans gal myself, but I know there is something wrong with that! *lol*)

Anyway, DD was flying a paper airplane off the back porch. The first model (pointy-nosed) did not work very well and she was getting a little frustrated. So I suggested she go in and have her father make her up a new one. She came back out a few minutes later with a snub-nosed model which caught the breezes a lot better. She's still carrying it around, even now that we're inside.

Now, what about Elvis and how do I know he's going bald? Didn't he pass some years ago, or, if you believe MIB, he just went home. *lol*

During the summer of 2007, I named several of the trees in our back yard. There is "Tootsie Pop", so named because a small clump of trees looks like one of those bouquets of Tootsie Pops banded together at the store. And then there is Elvis. He is made up of two trees. Due to their shape and placement relative to each other, they make that Elvis pompadour with the leaves. And right now, the leaves are falling. Hence, Elvis is going bald.

I'm kind of dreading going to work today. Apparently some "you know what" took place over the weekend, while I had the weekend off. (Thank goodness for small favors!) The "Senior Residential Associate" in my home (by title, not by age or length of service) reported another staff for abuse of a resident. Said resident was in the kitchen area (where he is not supposed to be w/o supervision) and was getting a little...rowdy. A male staff (from that side of the home) 'escorted' the resident back out of the kitchen. The SRA said she saw him holding the resident in a 'half-chicken-wing', and the staff was pulled off the floor.

If that were the case, I would agree that he needed to be pulled off the floor. However, the SRA has interviewed for Shift Supervisor in the home. Some people that were there are of the feeling that the allegations are false and/or that she submitted a falsified witness statement, which would be reprehensible. I don't see the accused staff abusing a client...but then I can't see the SRA making false statements either.

Word is that the decision on who gets the Shift Supervisor job is delayed now until the investigation is over. Could she have made the accusation to show that she would not be hesitant to turn someone in for wrong-doing? I suppose it's possible, although I really do not want to believe that.

I swear, sometimes they could make a soap opera out of the goings-on down there! :/

Oh, and I'm starting a meme next week on my "meme blog", Bluegrassgal, called "Music Mondays". Be sure to check back then!

Second Bad Day

Sunday at work was bad.

Monday was not much better. We did have four staff that day, but one is pregnant, and the other two are always complaining about aches and pains. Granted, working there can wear a body down fast, but still.

I got two residents to take care of. I would say two of the harder ones, due to lack of physical ability on their part. The one had 5 seizures in about 3 hours and we were one away from having to take her to the hospital. She got both Dilantin (?) and Ativan. After that she was one on one supervision. So my other resident should have gone to someone else. But, and I believe it was in large part due to the other people working that day, they had me do the other bath as well. I was shaking so much by the time I got out of work, it wasn't funny.

Oh, one bright-ish spot: we met the new home manager yesterday. I had been hearing just horrible things about her kitchiness and was really not looking forward. Perhaps it was just the day, but she did not seem bad at all.

And then the alternator has slipped again, and I needed to get a jump to get the car started. I probably took a little perverse glee in the fact that he is young, handsome and built and most of the female staff in my home would be pea-green with envy when they saw his car driving after me on the way down to mine. *small, evil laugh*

I had to drive with brights on, because on regular, no light showed. The car kept shaking and chugging on the way home and I was praying hard that I would get there, and at the same time resigning myself that walking part of the way wouldn't be so bad ... who am I kidding, it would've been anywhere up to 15 miles and it was after midnight along a road that has major construction. It would have sucked. But by shifting between gears about every 50 yards, I was able to keep it going.

But the car and I hobbled and limped into the driveway and I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.

I don't know if I've written on here about my adventures at Maya's Mom. It is a website for parents and an incredibly wonderful online community of moms (and even a few dads). I've come across some great people and blogs there.

One friend has a blog called "Crunchy Domestic Goddess" (don't you just LOVE the name). She is running a contest for re-usable lunch bags. How cool is THAT? Economical and environmental all in one! Check it out here!

Why are People the Way They Are?

I've been having a lot of trouble with my co-workers of late. There are three that are on the same "team" - which means they have the same days off, etc. At least two of them take their breaks and lunches together, whether or not it's convenient or practical for the rest of the staff or the residents.

For instance, in the afternoon at around 4, one of the residents gets "enteral nourishment" (which is the current p.c. term for "g-tube feeding"). She is supposed to have one-on-one supervision during this time, and we need two staff to take care of the rest of the residents during this time. As we only have four staff total per shift, this leaves us "out of compliance". But the staff don't seem to care.

I've started "pushing back", so I'm not exactly flavor of the month there right now. I guess people don't like it when you point out their hypocrisies.

I've tried going straight to the source, but they are like "what's the problem?" I've tried going to the senior staffperson, but she is one of the three in question. I've tried going to the shift supervisor in our home, but as the regular lady is on vacation, we have subs and they either don't want to deal with it, or have their a$$es regularly kissed by "the trio". Our home manager just left to take a job with the state, and our new one has not bothered to show up in the home on 2nd shift yet.

So I have been looking at other shifts or other homes. There are precious few other jobs in town that have the pay and benefits that I do now.

Monday Madness

DH was late getting home from his morning errands. Late as in 2:00 pm. I usually leave for work around 1 pm ... I only start work at 2:45, but if I don't get there by about 1:30, I might as well park at Walmart and walk (not a good idea in the heat and humidity) or call a cab (financially unfeasible). He got caught behind an accident on Hwy 70, and didn't even get the shopping done. So we piled the whole family (we homeschool) in the car and they dropped me off at work at about 2:30. I even put on make-up today just to keep from looking at the clock so much.

About work? I think I need to start another whole blog for that one, called something like "CMA" for (Cover My A$$). I work at a residential/teaching facility for adults with MR/DD (mental retardation/developmental disabilities), in one of the homes with the lower functioning, less healthy "individuals". The people used to be called "residents", then "clients"; "individuals" is the latest in a long line of pc terms for the "individuals" who reside at the facility.

Today was frustrating because I forgot to take my Effexor (an anti-depressant). Why is someone with chronic depression working at a facility such as I do? Well, my depression is caused by a chemical imbalance and handles quite nicely with medication, thank you. And I guess we were too busy for me to have much time to think about not having taken my med earlier in the day. Then there was the arriving much later than usual thing.

Thirdly, in the past couple of weeks, when the certain set of staff that was there today was working, one certain co-worker, who has the same rank as the rest of us that have been there, has 'taken over' the paperwork. Why is this a problem? We have 7 residents in our 'cottage' and four staff. She has always assigned herself one and everyone else had two. Two is quite doable, but one is a breeze.

At mealtime, there is quite a lot of preparation of the food trays that are sent up from the kitchen. Most of the ladies require thickened liquids and food that is chopped, ground or pureed. The food comes up prepared (unless the kitchen has made a mistake), but we handle the drinks. On a good day, we have pre-thickened drinks which is cause for mild celebration. But it gives a lot of extra work, so in the past several months, it has been the custom for the person who had the 'kitchen' to have only one individual to bathe and assist. But this woman has given herself one individual whether or not she had kitchen. And she doesn't do a whole lot in the miscellaneous cleaning department either.

Why not bring this up to our senior staff? Well, our senior staff, this co-worker of which I am writing and one other staff are thick as thieves and will shortly all have the same days off. When I brought it up to the senior last week, along the lines of having kitchen and one individual, she said, "I (or was it the royal 'we') think that's not going to work anymore." I'm going to try one more time tomorrow, and if nothing happens, then I will go over the senior's head to the supervisor. *sigh* I hate conflict, but I'm not willing to be walked all over anymore.

Not that this has anything to do with anything, but my 'senior' is pregnant, so she won't be able to do any lifting for nine months or so. While I am happy for her, if you can't lift in our cottage, you don't belong there. This is important because most of our individuals are in wheelchairs and require either a platform lift or sling lift and pedestal bathtub for bathing. Some are unsteady on their feet and require two people to transport.

There are a total of 7 staff members in my cottage, or more correctly, my side of the cottage. OK, one is pregnant-that makes 6 who can do all the work. But wait, two are mid to late 50's and often have complaints of stomach or joint problems - that makes 4 who can do all the work. But wait (and you don't get Ginsu steak knives with this offer), one has talked constantly for at least a month of a needed operation and how she doesn't have insurance and how she never eats - so take it down to three. But wait, one of our staff is an instructor for the crisis management system under investigation for use at the facility, so she is hardly ever there - make that two staffers left. That would be me and a younger woman who has been there for about 2 weeks. It takes at least a month to feel comfortable with the work required.

There has got to be a better way.

Since my family had to come and pick me up from work, it was really nice to have my 9 and 10 year old sons get out of the car and come up to hug me. My 4 year old daughter was asleep in back of the car. It was 11:00 pm after all. The alternative was to work until 7am and all the kids to wake up earlier than to which they are used (I'm too tired to worry about correct grammar, but I still hope that is right). But my "individual", so named because I have been assigned to her care nearly every day since I started work in that cottage has an ILP (Individual Life Plan) annual meeting tomorrow and I plan to be there, to make suggestions as to her future year's plan. She is like a sister to me almost - about 5 years older than me, about my size and height and a LOT more capable than most people give her credit for. She doesn't have much family to speak of, at least not that are allowed to visit - as she was placed in the facility by court order due to verified family abuse.

Anyway, DH pointed out that it is "very late" and as I have a full day of homeschooling and working tomorrow (and the next 3 days after that), I better toddle off to bed.