Labels are for tins, not people
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Anyway, off I trotted to my old familiar stomping ground, secretly hoping that they had missed me and less secretly hoping that it was bacon and eggs for breakfast. The manager hates wasting food, so always insists we eat what is left.
She also guilt trips us into donating something to the residents’ fund (fair enough). But with Christmas approaching I think I will have to donate my uniform and get a bigger one.
As usual the home and all its beds remain full but we had a new nursing resident called Mrs A. She has been living there for just over a week. According to the handover and her care records she has a long medical history including dementia and apparently she is also a Walker, a Wanderer and a Feeder (amongst other things). I almost choked. You might remember labels are one thing I cannot stand.
I was then a bit rude during handover. The girls sniggered as I asked, "is this resident an actual person or just a huge tin of beans, HOW MANY LABELS!?".
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I was right (for a change). There she sat, all on her own, looking so damn frightened. No-one was talking to her, her hair looked wild and she had trousers on that hadn’t seen a washer for a week. So I approached Mrs A with a sad but genuine smile on my face and said I was sorry that she had been left on her own. I also told her my name and simply that I was very pleased to meet her.
She started to cry. Not a sob, a real heart-wrenching cry, wrought with despair. So I took her hand and quietly led her back to her bedroom so that she could cry her heart out in private; and so that I could help her to look like someone hadn’t got her dressed in the dark.
It only took half an hour but in that short time, I learnt more about Mrs A than the the team had in a week. Firstly, and most importantly for Mrs A, she hated wearing trousers – they weren’t even hers! She had a wardrobe full of the most beautiful dresses you could imagine and she was more than capable of choosing what she wanted to wear. Why was she being denied this choice?
They'd completely missed that Mrs A was a real lady. She loves having her hair styled and doesn't want to go anywhere before she has put her lipstick on. Mrs A was also very frightened being on her own; and she misses her husband and her daughters. So Mrs A became my new best friend today and also my biggest helper.
She didn’t want to let me out of her sight, so I found things for her to do that genuinely helped me. When I did the meds round, she poured out every little tot of water and handed them to each resident. She was so kind to them too, so I also found out that she had a very caring nature. When it came to lunch time, she laid all the tables – with one eye permanently on me – and when I went for my break in the garden she had tea and biscuits with me too.
I finished the day tucking Mrs A into bed, promising I would see her in the morning. I think the carers were in awe, they had their eyes opened to practising person centred care. I told them we would discuss it more in the morning at handover – thinking it won’t do them any harm to think about things overnight.
I also left strict instructions for the night nurse, in case Mrs A woke up and was frightened. She has a whole collection of Cliff Richard CD's that she likes to listen to when she is feeling down, so I told her to put one on rather than reaching for the Lorazepam.
On my bus journey home I chuckled to myself thinking up a few labels of my own. Can you think of any?
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