Here We Go Again

Something went terribly wrong with the still-new aide this morning and I am again on my own with Mom. I want to explain what happened so you won't all think I'm a crazed caregiver, especially those of you who don't know me personally. I wrote much of this in a Facebook note because I didn’t want those friends, many of whom I only know through Facebook, to think there was something desperately wrong with me when I told them she was gone. I hope the same for you.

I want you all to know that I go to great lengths when I screen aides, as well as helping them learn the important things they need to know in order to safely care for Mom, even though many of those things they should already know since they all have experience in caring for the elderly, even to the point of working in nursing homes as this last one did. My, is that a frightening thought. I’m sure you understand just how frightening if you read my last post titled Just Plain Scary and saw the kinds of things I had to repeatedly remind her to do, things that were nothing more than basic safety precautions.

I know everyone has a learning curve and that some people catch on quicker than others. I've trained folks since I was in my early 20s, ten years of that when I had my own business, and believe in starting with the basics so they have a good foundation and then building from there. And I do believe in "training manuals" because I always had and have to refer back to them when I'm learning. So I've prepared three things for aides to read: a little about Mom and me plus an overview of her medical history; a list of their job responsibilities; and a list of things to remember. I ask them to read it all when they come for the meet and greet and watch their facial expressions as they do. I can often learn a lot by doing just that because what they're reading goes into great detail about how difficult Mom is to care for and how particular I am with her. That's fair to them and to me. When they're done, I ask if they read anything that concerned them, or frightened them, or made them wonder who the heck I thought I was. They always answer no. They leave the copies behind and if they're hired, I give them back to them their first day. I did that with this aide. She glanced at them and put them on the arm of the sofa. That's where they were when she left that day so I put them where she sat her purse so she'd see them first thing the next morning. They disappeared after that and I never saw them again. I doubt that she did either. So now I’d like to tell you what ended it all so quickly this morning in hopes you’ll understand that her reaction to what little I said, in a good-naturedly way, was over the top and uncalled for.

It's a rule here that they don't come in and start doing for Mom until we've had a chance to talk about how she did overnight and about any percautions we should take to get her started off on the right foot. Believe me, that’s very important. Roberta rarely did that. She just dived in.

Mom and I were up until 5AM this morning dealing with what I hope was the worst of the impaction. She has a repaired rectal prolapse so you have to empty her out slow and easy so as not to undo the miracle the surgeon performed. This time has taken longer than most. We were both worn out and it stood to reason she would be grumpy, so you use your head and do what needs to be done as you can. Simple logic.

I was in the bathroom when the aide got here and when I came out, she had the wrist BP monitor on Mom's arm. She was gripping Mom's wrist with her left hand and forcing her fingers apart with her right hand because Mom was making a fist. I should have nailed her right there because she was applying way too much pressure, but I didn't. I went over, and with a smile on my face, asked why she was trying so hard to undo Mom's grip. She said she couldn't get a good BP if she didn't. Like making her mad or hurting her was going to make her let anyone get a good BP. Good thinking. I could see how tightly she was holding Mom's wrist so I said, again good naturedly so I wouldn't make her mad, that gripping her wrist tightly would also cause a bad reading. She shot me a sideways glance that could have killed and said she WASN”T gripping too hard and she WASN’T hurting her and IF SHE SAID SHE WASN’T DOING IT, SHE WASN’T DOING IT! And the tone of voice she said it in was really, really bad. I was so stunned it took my breath for a second.

Now I don't know who she thought she was talking to but no one, and I mean no one, talks to me that way in my own home, not my family nor my friends. and especially not someone who has been shown every courtesy. I told her that what little I said in a good humored way in no way merited the response she had just delivered and that I thought we definitely had a problem. Her eyes got big as saucers, she stepped back and said we didn't, then went into the bathroom, I was sure to make a call to her agency to CYA, then got toilet paper, sat down, and started tearing and folding (we keep it done in advance), never looking up once. Mom was scared because all this was going on right next to her, so I calmed her down, pulled her up, took her BP, and called the agency. And yes, she had already called them. Good, I told them, because I was sending her home. And I did. No regrets.

I'd told the agency last week that I was afraid she was in over her head and getting frustrated because every time I had to remind her of something, all of which were things that I'd repeated day after day, she got a hateful look on her face, very sullen. Because she didn't talk much, I was never sure if it was her or me so I was minding my manners so as not to upset her until I could get to know her. It's obvious now that timid, smiling demeanor she let me see in the beginning was no more than a cover for a woman with a definate attitude. I've seen it time after time and when a simple thing like what I said this morning, which was way too nice considering what she was doing, sets someone off like that, well, there's going to be worse problems as time goes on. Been there, done that. So she's outta' here.

I'm tired and frustrated. We will soon be flat broke. It will be all over and Mom will end up in a nursing home being cared for by aides like her or worse. Unfortunately, that's what nine-tenths of them are like anymore. Most of them are women who can't earn a living any other way and they're only in it for a paycheck, and that's the attitude that keeps resulting in Mom getting hurt. I've dealt with this plus more for so long now with aide after aide and that's cost me the time I needed to try to save our behinds. That's not fair. If I'm up front with them from the interview on, then they should be upfront with me. Don't take a job for only the money, especially this one. If they can't take constructive criticism, which I'm going to give time after time until I see they're doing what's necessary to keep Mother from harm, then I don't care. If they have an attitude that has probably shown itself on other jobs, I don't care. Those are their problems, not mine. They're treated well here, even coddled, in hopes of making them comfortable and getting through to them how important what they do is to both Mom and me. If they're not willing or able to give at least that, and to return the respect their given, the outcome is their problem.

The agency has been after me to split the hours here between two aides, thinking that since so many of them have a problem finding their way to work, I’d have a backup. Been there, done that, too. Two to train and I have to repeat and repeat and repeat. Two personalities to learn about and deal with. Two coming and going, which confuses and upsets Mom. Two to have to worry about not showing up. It's a nightmare. But this is what I told the agency later this morning after I’d thought it through: I’ll try two against my better judgement, but no more meet and greets. It obviously doesn't help and it's more of my time wasted. If they have someone, send them in, but one at a time. Tell them in advance that I'm fried, in a pinch for time and have none to waste. Tell them Mom's hard, I'm particular, and I'm tough. But I'm also fair, and patient if I see they're trying. Tell them that what I ask them to do and the way that I ask them to do it is the way it is. Period. Then, and just between the agency and me, they will have only three days. That's all I'll waste in sizing them up and seeing if they're sucking up every little thing I share with them that will help all of us, and then applying it. If I don't see that, they're gone. And I mean it this time. It's sad to have to reach this point and this frame of mind, isn't it? But I mean it. They’re costing us everything. So from now on, if they can't stand the heat, they can get out of the kitchen.

Till next time, whenever that will be,
Sharon