Talking to yourself

This morning I was all set to complain about work. The endless red tape and nonesense that's involved with committees and board members. This is an aspect that i don't like about my job. The very real behind the scenes busy work of it all. Documentation of every single word that is said to every person and the look on their face when you told them. It is tedious to say the least. But I am not going to complain any more about my job today.

****

Today I went to see E. She is about half an hour away in a small town nursing home. I've been seeing her longer than six months, and we all keep waiting for the call to say that she has died... but she hasn't yet.

She is difficult for me to work with because her disease causes her to hold her arms stiffly at her sides. She doesn't talk, though she will follow you with her head. I'm not sure if she understands what I say to her or not. I am afraid I am going to break her arm if I force her to move it. When I first started seeing her, I tried to move her around a bit, but the look she gave me stopped me in my tracks. Whenever I announce my arrival her eyes open wide and her chin shrinks back into her neck. It is a cross between a look of disgust and dismay. As if to say "oh no! She's back! If only I could speak so I could tell her to go away!"

I don't know if she's thinking that or not. I didn't really feel confident with what I was doing with her. So much of my work is based on feed back and with E. I couldn't tell if it was negative feedback or her disease causing her resist me.

Frankly, I don't think I'm doing her much good and I don't know why she makes me so nervous.

I arrived one day and the RN from hospice was still there taking down her vital signs. I sat and waited and watched while she finished up. The nurse wasn't nervous or shy or unsure about herself. She treated E. as if she could understand her, because she didn't know either, and it was better to err on the side of yes. As I watched her, I realized I was making it hard on myself. It wasn't E. being difficult, it was me being afraid of what I didn't know. I didn't know what was happening, so I did nothing, or the bear minimum.

It took my a couple of visits to get over myself. Today I think I made a big step. I talked to her about a lot of things and told her what I was doing with her therapy. Her body wasn't any easier to work with, but I felt at least like I was doing the best that I knew how.