Posted by nrm on 12/16/2006, 8:21 pm Most times I would be running around to any room that had pushed their emergency buzzer. I had this weird beeper like mini computer attached to my jeans. This happened all night long. Old smelly piss ridden people pushing their emergency buttons all night long for minor little things. Most of them just liked me and wanted me to come talk to them. They didn’t understand that I was pretty much working alone all night, and didn’t have time to chit chat with each of them, although I would have liked to. I was always polite while dealing with the elderly. In fact, I learned a lot working at that crazy place. When I wasn’t busy getting Olga’s bath ready, I would sometimes sneak off when some of the buzzing beepers slowed down, and I would raid the drug cabinet. It was locked, but I had been there long enough where this other junkie type dude who worked days, told me the secret combination. Half the time, I never even needed to take the chance of raiding the cabinet. Cause most of the really fuked up old geezers would have their pills right next to their bed, and I pretty much had my degree as far as knowing what pills were what. I’d just take a few here, a few there, replace them with same colored aspirin incase the other hospital workers caught on to my scam. Sometimes they would count the patients pills. that’s why I had that covered. It was like a miracle every time that dam metal drawer popped open late at night. It was filled with percacets, vicodins, morphine pills, xanax, ambien, valium.. anti anxiety pills. Just about anything a druggies mind could imagine. I’d mostly just eat enough pills to put myself in a chipper mood so I could deal with bathing old people and deal with changing their diapers, and deal with all their crying and old stories about when they were young. It wasn’t an easy job, but I liked it. High on opiates. what better feeling is there? I could still be kind, and still do my job and listen to them, but with the cocaine added in, so I wouldn’t pass out, at times it got a little chaotic. I numbed myself with all the drugs around me. It may seem cold. But it was the best way to deal with all these angels, my already bi polar brain on overload. I loved these people. But it was best to keep my distance through constant abuse of uppers and downers. One day the head nurse showed up in the middle of my night shift. I was all phucked up on crack and shooting powder coke and I think I had eaten some xanax and percacet when she showed up. Not to mention I had my whiskey flask half hanging out of my work pants. What happened next really sucked.. I hit stop button on my walk man, my zeppelin 3 tape getting eaten again.. and took the head phones off my ears, cause I could see by the look on her face this was some serious shit she was about to lay on me. "to be continued
Message modified by board administrator 12/17/2006, 6:21 am
I was working at the old folks home in Salisbury Steak Michigan. A small town out in the snow covered boonies. I had been there almost 6 months and most of the upper supervisors trusted me at this point. I worked the night shift. 10 pm to 6 a.m. sometimes I wouldn’t get out of there till 7 am. Depending on what was going on.
My nights consisted of changing old ladies diapers. Giving meds out. My nights consisted of talking to old senile men who told me war stories, then would drift off into gibberish about how when they grew up, they had to walk ten miles to work in snow storms and work digging ditches along the rail road during the depression in order to earn 5 bucks a day.
These people were basically dropped off by their un grateful offspring. To rot and die in this old folks home. Cause they didn’t want to deal with them or remember how they had brought them up from birth. It was really sort of sad.
I made bonds and friendships with most of the old folks. But I could never let myself connect too much with them. Because they were all on their last limbs. They were all going to be dead soon. And I couldn’t handle losing someone I was tight with. that’s why the drug cabinet came in handy.
I was more worried about my own well being than having to deal with these dieing old fuks constant babble about when they were my age. Don’t get me wrong. I cry during even the lamest sad movies, and that’s what I mean, I couldn’t deal with all their sad emotions, so that’s why
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