Real talk.
Some days this job is very, very hard.
Last week I spent an hour in a 90-year old man’s room listening to him tell me I’m incompetent, naive, and an ineffective leader. When I tried to offer solutions or defend myself or our staff, he became livid and swore at me, and when I consequently tried to go get a different staff member for him to talk to because he was unsatisfied with my answers, he accused me of trying to bow out.
I’m not new to geriatric care; this is a field that I’ve pursued because I love it. Honestly, I do. This particular man has worked hard all of his life, and now he is old, frail, and dying. And very aware of it. With his sickness and limitations, he has become forgetful, demanding, and ruthless. But I will always treat him with respect. I will always listen to him, even if it is for an hour of time that I don’t have, and even if he makes me tear up before I make it out the door of his room. I’m in this for the long haul, and I’m determined to love on every resident we have, from the sweetest little lady to the grumpiest old man, who I believe we have in our building.
Sometimes my day includes hiding out in my truck for 15 minutes until I can stop crying and calm down. This picture reminds me that I am human, that I will inevitably fail, and even when I think I’m succeeding, someone will always try and bring me down a peg. But it is also a reminder that I’m in this industry because I care so deeply that I will let an old man swear at me and make me cry and hide out in my truck, and then I will walk back into our building ready to try again.
