CNAs

I haven't checked, but I suspect there's an open advertisement in the newspaper in the nearby village where I was incarcerated in the "care" facility. You know, like the kind of employment ad car washes run in big cities. . . 365 days a year. It appears that the turnover is very similar. In my 2 1/2 months, I saw well over 100 CNAs wander through my room. They ranged in age from recent high school graduates on up, with the majority appearing to be 18-21. Some of those who were slightly older were said to be attending nursing school. There were only three young men, who seemed to be there because they were related to someone else in the facility.

CNAs fall into three general categories:

1. Newbies who got a job after a brief training period, and are earning a regular paycheck.

2. Those who have been around a few months and may or may not have developed some compassion , despite the monotonous and sometimes unpleasant nature of the work.

3. A few who have true compassion for the helpless residents, and when they call them, "Honey," it may actually be a term of endearment.

The other regular mantra of the CNAs was, "If you need something, push your call button."
Doing so caused two things electrical to occur. In the hall, a light went on over your door, and at the nurses' station, a panel lit up and a beep sounded. At no time, did I see anyone react to those two signals, and the beep could be heard any time one passed by.

Reaction to the lights over the doors was irregular, but especially during the two hours at mealtime. The CNAs had to deliver meal trays, spoon feed some residents, collect the trays, and estimate the percentage of food eaten and how many calories that comprised. Little else was done at this time.

The few fond memories I have are of the CNAs who were prompt in attending to my needs, especially at mealtime. Because of the thankless nature of the work, I took care always to thank the CNAs.