04-22-2008, 12:17 AM
So as some of you know, I've been hired on at The Gardens, a seniors center around where I live; and I've been doing laundry for the past couple of nights. I like laundry. It's quiet, I'm my own boss, it's relatively simple if you know what to do - it's nice. Since it's not a structured shift, (ie. I need to do this before 6, get this done by 6:30, so I can help serve for 7) as long as you get the work done, you're sittin' pretty.
Now, laundry requires me to do a few things. For starters, I have to carry the Fire phone and the Fires Responder phone. So if there's a fire, either in a resident's room or somewhere in the building, I'm in charge of getting people out safely, checking rooms, etc. As a First Responder, I go where I'm needed. Each resident has a pendant - a small device with a button on it - that they use if they're in trouble. So if a wheelchair bound res slips out of their wheelchair and can't get up, they use their pendant, and we're there in under five minutes to help them. The FS is there to keep a calm head as everyone around is freaking out. We're encouraged not to perform CPR or other techniques, as that would make The Gardens liable if we did anything wrong. We're just in there to make sure the resident is alright, and decide whether or not to call an ambulance.
My usual duties include laundry, using a Power Scrubber (it's what Invader Zim would invent if he needed to mop something) to do the main kitchen floor, and run some of the laundry to different areas of the center. Now, I was trained to do a little work, take a break, do a little work, take a break, finish the work, go chill out for the next hour. The way I like to do it? Work, work, work, work, chill out for the next three hours. One of the five nurses brings a movie, and there's another TV you can watch. Not a lot on at 4 AM, though.
Tonight was the first night that I worked alone. I'd been on with a man named Shane who showed me the ropes, but since he's the only one trained on laundry (seriously - he'd been on for 3 and a half weeks straight) he was happy to take a few days off and let me do it. So I came in and I focused on getting stuff done - sort the laundry, wash the laundry, dry the laundry, floor, bleach, deliver. It was about 5:00AM, after I'd just taken the last load of laundry out of the dryer and had begun folding it when I got an FS call. The thing about FS calls? No matter who you're with, what you're doing, who you're talking to or where you are, you gotta be like "I gotta go." So I dropped the bedsheet and went to the room.
I knocked on the door. No answer - alright, that's what the keys are for. I opened the door, went inside and called out - "Hello?" - and I got an answer "In here!" I walk into the bedroom and immediately I notice a bit of a smell. The resident had defecated on over half her bed, and the surrounding floor. She visibly shook for a period of 10 - 15 seconds and complained that her hands were stiff and hard. I thought 'Y'know what'd be a hoot? If I gave the ambulance a call. Yeah, that's a good idea! Let's call an ambulance!"
"911 Emergency - do you need a fire engine, police car or an ambulance?"
"Ambulance."
"Please hold... Ambulance Services, where are you calling from?"
"The Gardens."
"What suite?"
"***"
"What is the nature of the emergency?"
"I've got a resident who has defecated on over half her bed, is visibly shaking for 10 seconds or more at a time, and is telling me that her hands are hard and stiff."
"How old is the resident?"
"94."
"We'll be there in five minutes."
Now, I had an inner dialogue going "Hojeez, hojeez, hojeez, what am I doing here, whatdoIdowhatdoIdo?" but on the outside I was going "Don't worry - the ambulance is on it's way, it'll just be a few minutes. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" Just holding her hand, trying to keep her calm. I got a call from her phone - the ambulance personnel needing to be buzzed in, so I went down, let them in, came back up. They were looking around the apartment for medication or vitamin/supplements while they asked me questions about the resident and what had happened. I let them work, and went back downstairs.
I had to log the incident, what had happened, who was involved and what time it occurred. Afterwards, I took out the census - a list of all the residents currently in the building, to be used in case of a fire (just so we know how many people we need to evacuate, that sorta stuff) and marked the resident out in the hospital. I went downstairs, finished folding my laundry, and put it on the racks to be brought up tomorrow. I went up to the third floor, to where all the night nurses were, and told them what had happened, and that I logged the incident and such.
"So yeah - they're taking her to the hospital."
"Oh my god - you took care of it?"
"Yup - I'm finished the laundry now, so I'm going to curl up into a ball in a corner somewhere... so if you need me, I'll be in a corner somewhere."
"You did good. Shane'll be proud."
I don't know if I did good or not, but I know that I'm not going to be able to sleep until about 11:00AM, and I know that I'm not looking forward to washing her sheets tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my corner.
Now, laundry requires me to do a few things. For starters, I have to carry the Fire phone and the Fires Responder phone. So if there's a fire, either in a resident's room or somewhere in the building, I'm in charge of getting people out safely, checking rooms, etc. As a First Responder, I go where I'm needed. Each resident has a pendant - a small device with a button on it - that they use if they're in trouble. So if a wheelchair bound res slips out of their wheelchair and can't get up, they use their pendant, and we're there in under five minutes to help them. The FS is there to keep a calm head as everyone around is freaking out. We're encouraged not to perform CPR or other techniques, as that would make The Gardens liable if we did anything wrong. We're just in there to make sure the resident is alright, and decide whether or not to call an ambulance.
My usual duties include laundry, using a Power Scrubber (it's what Invader Zim would invent if he needed to mop something) to do the main kitchen floor, and run some of the laundry to different areas of the center. Now, I was trained to do a little work, take a break, do a little work, take a break, finish the work, go chill out for the next hour. The way I like to do it? Work, work, work, work, chill out for the next three hours. One of the five nurses brings a movie, and there's another TV you can watch. Not a lot on at 4 AM, though.
Tonight was the first night that I worked alone. I'd been on with a man named Shane who showed me the ropes, but since he's the only one trained on laundry (seriously - he'd been on for 3 and a half weeks straight) he was happy to take a few days off and let me do it. So I came in and I focused on getting stuff done - sort the laundry, wash the laundry, dry the laundry, floor, bleach, deliver. It was about 5:00AM, after I'd just taken the last load of laundry out of the dryer and had begun folding it when I got an FS call. The thing about FS calls? No matter who you're with, what you're doing, who you're talking to or where you are, you gotta be like "I gotta go." So I dropped the bedsheet and went to the room.
I knocked on the door. No answer - alright, that's what the keys are for. I opened the door, went inside and called out - "Hello?" - and I got an answer "In here!" I walk into the bedroom and immediately I notice a bit of a smell. The resident had defecated on over half her bed, and the surrounding floor. She visibly shook for a period of 10 - 15 seconds and complained that her hands were stiff and hard. I thought 'Y'know what'd be a hoot? If I gave the ambulance a call. Yeah, that's a good idea! Let's call an ambulance!"
"911 Emergency - do you need a fire engine, police car or an ambulance?"
"Ambulance."
"Please hold... Ambulance Services, where are you calling from?"
"The Gardens."
"What suite?"
"***"
"What is the nature of the emergency?"
"I've got a resident who has defecated on over half her bed, is visibly shaking for 10 seconds or more at a time, and is telling me that her hands are hard and stiff."
"How old is the resident?"
"94."
"We'll be there in five minutes."
Now, I had an inner dialogue going "Hojeez, hojeez, hojeez, what am I doing here, whatdoIdowhatdoIdo?" but on the outside I was going "Don't worry - the ambulance is on it's way, it'll just be a few minutes. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" Just holding her hand, trying to keep her calm. I got a call from her phone - the ambulance personnel needing to be buzzed in, so I went down, let them in, came back up. They were looking around the apartment for medication or vitamin/supplements while they asked me questions about the resident and what had happened. I let them work, and went back downstairs.
I had to log the incident, what had happened, who was involved and what time it occurred. Afterwards, I took out the census - a list of all the residents currently in the building, to be used in case of a fire (just so we know how many people we need to evacuate, that sorta stuff) and marked the resident out in the hospital. I went downstairs, finished folding my laundry, and put it on the racks to be brought up tomorrow. I went up to the third floor, to where all the night nurses were, and told them what had happened, and that I logged the incident and such.
"So yeah - they're taking her to the hospital."
"Oh my god - you took care of it?"
"Yup - I'm finished the laundry now, so I'm going to curl up into a ball in a corner somewhere... so if you need me, I'll be in a corner somewhere."
"You did good. Shane'll be proud."
I don't know if I did good or not, but I know that I'm not going to be able to sleep until about 11:00AM, and I know that I'm not looking forward to washing her sheets tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my corner.