Things I've Learned...while working with elderly people.

What is Love? By Tamara Van Diest

Love is holding an ice cream cup for a resident because she can only use one arm and needs it to hold a spoon.

Love is sitting and reading a book with a resident, when you could be taking a break.

Love is not giggling or making a face at a smell made by a resident.

Love is explaining what sort of animal is in a picture to a resident, because his eyesight is failing.

Love is playing piano for the residents when you could be resting.

Love is maintaining the dignity and privacy of a resident when something embarassing happens.

Love is picking up a cat so a resident can pet it, even if you're allergic.

Love is hugging a resident who is known for hitting.

Love is embarassing yourself in front of a resident, just to see her toothless grin.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude it is not self-seeking, it is slow to anger, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (1 Cor 13:4-8)

Yeah. my certified nursing class is pretty much over. I finished my last clinical at Providence Extended Care Center in Anchorage today...and then cried on the busride home.

My other clinical days, I was fine...I went in and took care of the residents and went home and didn't think more about them.

But today...was different. Today I realized for the first time that I didn't want to leave.

I didn't want to leave one lady because she couldn't sit and eat her ice cream without help. Sure, someone would probably come to help...but it was the idea that they depended on me.

Was I just caring for them? or was I caring about them?

She followed me around the hallway in her wheelchair, pushing herself with her one good leg. She poked me when she got close enough and grinned her toothless grin up at me. She looked at a picture book with me and I had to explain what the smaller animals were because she couldn't see well enough to make them out, though the book was 6 inches from her face. And I was really really sad to have to go and leave her there. How many people actually care about her? I only knew her one day. And it felt like we were best friends. We were. I loved her.

That was when they all became real people. They hurt and cry because of their ulcers and bruises and stiffened limbs. They wail and yell because they don't speak English and we can't communicate. They grin and their whole day is brighter just because someone took the time to say Hi and smile at them. They laugh when you make a silly face or jump into their room just to do the Chicken Dance.

It wasn't just a job. It was a wonderful, life changing experience.

Is that the kind of relationship that you have with your friends?

Not real estate...just sharing something written by my 18 year old daughter yesterday after her last clinical for her Certified Nurses Assistant training.