A lesson in patience.
Michael* and me in front of our ALF. He loves taking pictures together, and I've learned that he never smiles showing his teeth.
I snapped at her. Me, the person who sat through a resident explaining Facebook to me, the person who could listen to the same story or joke over and over and manage not to roll my eyes. I snapped.
I don’t think she felt like I snapped at her, but I felt it immediately. I recoiled as she wheeled away from my office. What is wrong with you, I thought to myself. This isn’t like you. I leaned back in my chair behind my desk and ran my fingers through my hair. Reassess, I told myself. Revaluate.
I thought back over my day, a seemingly ordinary Thursday, but the details proved otherwise. It started off with a conference call that went poorly, then a rush-out-the-door doctor’s office visit with a resident, which was followed by a working lunch, a phone call that didn’t go as planned, an unsuccessful visit to collect rent from a resident, and then a canceled tour to top it all off. So when she came rolling into my office to ask me to fill the milk jugs she waters her flowers with, a cold ‘I’ll try and get to it’ was all I could muster.
Why does she always ask me, I thought after she wheeled away, soaking in my own pool of self-pity. Anyone else can fill up her water jugs, but she just has to come out to my office and ask me specifically. And God forbid it doesn’t get done! I’d already handled a call from a resident’s family member first thing that morning who was upset because their mom’s garden bed hadn’t been watered.
‘I checked it myself this morning,’ I’d assured her over the phone. ‘Your mom’s plants look great. The sprinklers are watering them twice a day, and on particularly hot days, staff are trying to water them a third time. What exactly is the problem you’re looking for me to solve?’ She admitted she wasn’t sure, but she still sounded frustrated. I was at a loss – how am I supposed to solve a problem that doesn’t exist? But yet again, this person had asked for me, intent on speaking with me and only me regarding the status of her mom’s rose bushes.
Sometimes my job wears me out too much to do my job. I feel like I spend my whole day jumping through hoops, and by the time a resident needs me, I am too tired from jumping to lift a finger to help them. I try and have patience with my residents, but sometimes the one who needs patience is me.
