Working in a nursing home as a CNA kind of really sucks ass. We wipe ass, get cursed at, are underpaid, and get our asses kicked, literally, on just about a daily basis.
But then there’s the moments like I had the other night where you’re sitting there with a dying woman, because her family was only there for the first time you’d been working there, which was almost a year ago, a couple of nights ago and you don’t want her to be alone. You sit there, holding her frail and aged hand, forgetting about the times that she all but clawed your eyes out because the dementia was so bad that she didn’t have any clue what was going on, and you just rub her hand, telling her that everything is going to be okay, that it’s almost over and she’s gonna be just fine. She doesn’t respond but, you know she heard you and you just sit there and watch, the realization hitting you that this woman has lived her life and, it’s ending now.
I’ve been an aide for about 3 years now and it’s only now that it’s hitting me. As I sat there and watched this woman struggle for every breath, I wondered what her life was like before she ended up here. I wondered about her family, what kind of mother she was, wife, daughter, and friend. I wondered if she lived her life and got to achieve whatever dreams she had. And then the thought hit me, will I? When I end up in a place like this, will my aide be sitting there holding my hand instead of my family, wondering the same things?
I’ve heard the term life is short too many times to count, as I’m pretty sure we all have, but sitting here watching this woman, I realized it really and truly is. I wanna travel, write a book or many books, become a physical therapist assistant, wife and mom. I want to be a person that people can trust and count on, one that doesn’t judge and tries to find the good in people instead of the bad and starting today, I am. I want my family to be the ones sitting there, holding my hand knowing, not wondering, what kind of woman I was and what kind of life I lived and I want them to know that I lived and that it’s now time for me to go and it’s okay.
What about you?