Goodbyes and Hellos

A new company took over the nursing home where I leave. They have changed staff policy to some extent. They are juggling work schedules on a daily basis. Several aides have already left, but now the local bridge has been declared unsafe. Instead of a five minute drive across the bridge, now some staff members have to drive an extra forty minutes to reach the next bridge. Aides are leaving in floods, and it is hard to see them go.

At the same time, I know that people enter the medical field because they care about people. Most of the new hires will be pleasant and may become good friends. It's just, sigh, the change, and the time investment.

Today I learned that the (new) Director of Nursing has written a new Restorative Therapy Plan. Now I know what they want us to work on, as well as how often. Seeing it in black-and-white feels great.

More stories on my table mates, whom are becoming friends:

• Miss V tends to repeat the same stories in her irritating sing-song voice. And many of her stories are very said. Her story-telling has dipped down a little. And even, she said, "I'm the luckiest woman alive. I had the best mother in the world, and when she died, I had the best mother-in-law in the world." I stopped her right there, and told her how happy she had made me.
• Miss W says very little. One day I could swear she winked at me. I asked her if she liked chili, the menu. Both eyes popped opened, light shining through, and she spoke with great enthusiasm. "Yes!" Then she looked at the menu board and read the remaining menu items--fried okra and cornbread. It was the most conversation I have had with her. 

Over time, we have become patient with each other's memory lapses. More able to smooth over arguments. Miss V and I can have some in-depth conversation, but we also discuss things in the here-and-now: Do you like today's menu? I like your shirt. Betty Boop is dressed like Mrs. Santa Claus.

I like to think I'm helping them while at the same time making it more pleasant for myself. As an aide said, I need to be needed.

Less than a year has passed since my roommate lost her mother. The loss of long-term staff added to her grief for her mother is oh, so difficult for her. Please keep her in your prayers.

Oh, my oldest granddaughter turned eighteen on Thursday!  

This is "the" week--the anniversary of Jolene's death, and both Jaran and Jolene's birthdays. Your prayers for me in particular this week are appreciated. I will write my annual review next Monday.