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Tag: care
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I Quit Being A Carer To Work In KFC And Its So Much Better
Eighteen long years I have worked in care, I gained many many qualifications, spent hours training to be the best I could possibly be in my sector.
I would wash and dress the elderly, I would sit with them and brush their hair, paint their nails and listen to all the stories from their past, I genuinely cared about every single person I was employed to look after.
Many a times I held the hand of someone I had loved as they took their last breath, I sang to them, stroked their hair and sobbed when they passed on, I attended their funeral and stood with “family” members who never or rarely visited their mum/dad as they cried their crocodile tears, with only the thought of their will in their minds.
I cleaned out their room as management arranged for the next “body” to move in, the next pay cheque.
I dished up the Tesco value food on to their plate, and watched the owner drive home early in their brand new car, I brought in shampoo and soap for the lady who had nothing.
Working in care broke me, whilst I loved the people I cared for, I constantly felt I was being rushed by seniors or management, I was given names of residents to get up, whether they were sleeping or not, I wasn’t allowed to spend quality time talking to them, or making them feel loved, it was all about getting people up and dressed as quick as possible.
Compassion was missing, Love was lacking, from the people earning the most out of these wonderful people’s lives.
Every day I would go home wondering if someone would be ok, would they still be alive by my next shift, I received a disciplinary for taking too long to bathe someone and when I was told to hurry up “I had spoken rudely to a senior”, that was the last straw for me, how can you bathe a 87-year-old woman in 5 minutes, that’s not a bath, that’s cruel!
I quit!!! I can’t do it!!!
I got a job in KFC actually earn more money (not that you get into care for the cash) I am less stressed, my day offs I don’t think about the chickens, I still think about the people I cared for but I had to think about me, something needs to change in care homes and put the residents needs and wants first, management shouldn’t see them as a cash flow, I understand they need to make money but not so much that the elderly are suffering. The care sector needs to wake up and realise they are pushing good people out of the industry!
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I Think It Is Hard To Love A Care Worker
I think it is hard to love a care worker. We get up early, we come home late and are too tired to cook. We miss weekend events, holidays, birthdays. We don’t get too excited over a minor cough or cold, we have seen far worse.
We don’t always want to talk when we come home, we have talked all day. We don’t always want to move when we come home, we have moved all day. It may seem that we have left all of our caring, our heart, and our love at work, and have come home to you empty, we probably have.
I guess it is hard to love a care worker, but know this: we still need your love. We need your understanding. We need to know that you “get it”. We need to be the one taken care of every once in a while. We need someone else to take charge of the details because constantly doing everything ourselves is exhausting. Sometimes we need our feet rubbed. We need a shoulder to cry on when we can’t even tell you why we’re grieving. We need you to do the hardest work you may ever take on, which is…to love a care worker.
I would like to thank those of you out there who love them and let us do this work, this calling, this life: care work ❤️❤️❤️
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Things Need To Change In Uk Care Homes
I think it’s time to get things changed in care homes to stop abuse and neglect happening to old and vulnerable people who cannot stand up for themselves.
Care homes need cameras in them ALL OF THEM, to protect residents and staff, they need to be graded as to what level of dementia they can care for.
Dementia itself needs to be graded so that people are not placed in wrong homes, the staffing levels need to be considerably higher and finally the people working in them need to be vetted more than they are now. Also the owners need to stop making such huge profits because that is all that concerns them .
So please share to get support I can then go back to the health minister to try to get things changed. Don’t forget you or someone you love might be next
Credit Ray Ann Lewis
An investigation by the Daily Mail found four in ten UK care homes had failed inspections in 2017, with residents being forced to live in filthy and squalid conditions, and some locked in bedrooms without any natural light, food was basic with limited nutritional value, paper work was also not accurate.
Of the 5,300 UK care homes inspected in 2017, 2,314 were dubbed as inadequate or in need of improvement, which is shocking.
Staffing levels need to increase, better pay, more appreciation, training and shorter working hours would help things.
Lets stop care home abuse NOW!!!
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Don’t Forget To Care For Your Wife/Girlfriend
I finally told my husband last night that he’s failed to realize I’ve been taking a shower only once a week. He felt pretty bad. That everyone always forgets to care for momma after baby is born and even later when baby is 6 months old.
I told him no one looks out for me to see if I’m doing okay because they are so wrapped up in making sure baby is okay and or themselves. He didn’t offer to help until he was all done with his nice long shower and potty session which goes uninterrupted.
I let him know though. I said how am I supposed to feel pretty when I’ve been unnoticed for so long? He couldn’t say anything really except that he apologizes for not appreciating me more.
Deep down it’s more than that for me. He asked what he can do to help and I told him to offer to take her more when ever he can because I need my breaks. Not just once a day breaks either.
Mums do not be ashamed to voice how you feel, if you are overwhelmed, tired or need extra help say something, unfortunately some men don’t notice how much you do or how hard you are finding things, point them out let them know, sometimes a little chat can make a lot of big changes happen.
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A Story From A Child In Foster Care
Life has been a bit not nice for me. I’ve not been the best bear I could be and things have been scary. My tummy bubbles have been very very big, my legs have done lots of running, my hands lots of hurting and my mouth saying not nice stuff.
It’s been the summer holidays. I like the holidays usually as I get to do lots and lots of fun stuff with Kim and the others. We have been doing nice stuff and I have had some fun but there’s been something else happening for me as well. Something not fun. Not nice. Something I didn’t know what to do with.
I still see mummy and my brothers. We have contact. Sometimes mummy doesn’t come and then I feel sad because I think she doesn’t like me anymore or she’s poorly – she used to get poorly a lot when she had her friends round and they did drinking and some other bad stuff and fighting. Mummy has been coming to contact in the summer and in the holidays we get to spend longer with her. We go to the family centre with the big garden. Sometimes me and mummy can talk by ourselves when the supervisor is on the other side of the garden.
We was playing football with my brothers. Then they wanted to go on the climbing frame. I was too hot so sat on the grass. Mummy sat with me. I thought it was going to be lovely to be with her but then she said it. Mummy said I was going to live back at home with her. She was going to court to get me back. She was going to tell them that the social
workers was telling lies. That I had been telling lies about the man in my room. And because I was a liar Kim didn’t want me living in her house so that’s the plan. I am going to live back with mummy as soon as the court says so BUT I mustn’t tell anyone because social will make up more lies.
All my happy went in that minute. Every thing changed for me. I’ve been living with Kim for a fair time now and really loved it there. I always felt safe there. I always had food and toys and clothes and my comfy bed. And I was a big enough bear now to know I didn’t get that at mummy’s. My world was like a big balloon that had just gone pop.
I went back to Kim’s from contact. It was Kims now, not home. Mummy’s was going to be home, a home I feared, a home full of noise and mess. A home without lights, cold, dirty. A home with no clean clothes, no nice comfy bed, no toys. The place I had come from. Somewhere I didn’t want to go back to. They’d told me I wouldn’t have to go back there. Kim. The court people. The social worker. Mummy was right. They had been telling lies. They said I wasn’t going home and mummy said I am when she’s been to court. I had to show them this little bear knew they were lying.
And show them I did. I was cross. I did everything I could think of to show them what happens when this little bear wasn’t happy. I ran away. I broke things. I kicked Kim. I tore my books up. I started to swear again. If they’d lied to me I’d lie back. I told them it wasn’t me that put the remote in the toilet. I told them it wasn’t me that wrote swear words on the wall. I told them I hated them. That was my biggest lie. Inside I didn’t hate them. I loved them but couldn’t understand why they’d lied to me and why I was having to go back to mummy’s house.
I carried on like this for a good while. I was going to take charge here and make them hate me like I hated them. My comfy bed was next. I cut my duvet. Cut my pillow. I wasn’t having a comfy bed at mummy’s house so I needed to remember what it was like not having one. I’d better get used to it. Kim caught me. Scissors in hand and cut pillow by my side. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Did the shouting come? No. Did the beating come? No. Did the throwing things around the room come? No. Did the threat of no dinners come? No. Did the hitting of walls or door come? No. Did the being called all the horrid names on the planet start? No. Did the pushing and shoving start? No. No they didn’t. That’s what happens at mummy’s house not Kim’s.
Did I start to feel really scared? No. Did I wet myself in fear? No. Did I throw the scissors? No. Did I shout and swear? No. Did I try to run? No. Did I cower in the corner? No. They were things that happened in mummy’s house too. So now I’m really really confused. They want to take me away from my safe place to put me back in mummy’s house. How can that be an okay thing to do?
And do you know? I think Kim could see what I was feeling inside. I think she could see I was angry about things – she didn’t know what. But more so I think she could see that underneath this cross angry bear face who said he hated everyone, there was a little bear who felt so frightened, confused and lonely and in desperate need of a tight squeezy hug. A little bear who had so much to say but not the words to say it. A little bear whose world had drastically changed by those few words from his mummy’s mouth – you’re coming back home.
Kim sat next to me and took the scissors from my hand. I leant into her like I do when I need a hug and she cuddled me. She cuddled me so tight I knew I was safe. And then I cried. I cried and cried and cried. And then I told her what mummy said. And do you know as I was telling Kim I knew it was mummy that wasn’t telling me the right things. I’ve grown enough to know what happened at home wasn’t how little bears are meant to live. But after all I’d done these last few weeks maybe that was how I deserved to live?
Kim just held me and let me cry away. I talked and talked in my crying. I don’t know how Kim could understand me but she did. When I was all cried out Kim talked back to me. She told me that she felt mummy had got things a bit muddled. How Kim and the social workers hadn’t lied to me. That I wasn’t going to go back to live at mummy’s. Kim and the police and everyone knew I wasn’t lying about the man in my room. They’d all seen what mummy’s house was like. My brothers had all said the same thing and they did believe us. Kim does want me to live with her till I’m a grown up bear. She was sorry that mummy had made me so very scared and mummy was wrong to say such things. My social worker came out to see me and told me just the same as Kim. That helped calm my tummy bubbles big time! They are going to talk to mummy about it and how it made me feel. They said sometimes mummies will say these things to stop themselves feeling so bad but they don’t think how it makes the children feel. Mummy isn’t going to be in trouble which is good because I don’t want that, but they want mummy to think about what she says. Kim used to say that to me lots – I used to say unkind things but didn’t think how they made people feel, so I know what the social worker means.
I’m feeling safe again now. Happy and so so glad I’ve still got my comfy bed. Kim got me a new duvet and pillow but I did have to use some of my money to help buy it. I don’t mind. Because I know when I say home it’s where I live now and that’s just how I like it!
#bearincare
#fosteringchangeslives
www.essexadoptionandfostering.co.uk/fostering
Full credit: https://www.facebook.com/Robbie-a-bear-in-foster-care-his-story
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Dear Teacher Please Look After My Baby
Dear teacher
I know you’re rather busy
First day back, there’s just no time
A whole new class of little ones
And this one here is mine
I’m sure you have things covered
And have done this lots before
But my girl is very little
She hasn’t long turned four
In her uniform this morning
She looked so tall and steady
But now beside your great big school
I’m not quite sure she’s ready
Do you help them eat their lunch?
Are you quick to soothe their fears?
And if she falls and hurts his knee
Will someone dry her tears?
And what if no-one plays with her?
What if someone’s mean?
What if two kids have a fight
And she’s caught in between?
You’re right, I have to leave now
It’s time for her to go
I’m sure she’ll learn so much from you
Things that I don’t know
Yes, I’m sure they settle quickly
That she’s fine now without me
I know she has to go to school
It’s just so fast, you see
It seems like just a blink ago
I first held her in my arms
It’s been my job to love, to teach
To keep her safe from harm
So, when I wave goodbye in a moment
And she turns to walk inside
Forgive me if I crumple
Into tears of loss and pride
I know as I give her one more kiss
And watch her walk away,
That she’ll never again be wholly mine
As she was before today.
Original source unknown
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As A Carer You Will Instantly Judge Me
As a Carer you’ll watch me do things and instantly judge me for them, you’ll look down your nose and see me as nothing more than someone who deals with other people’s body fluids and makes cups of tea.
You’ll wonder why I can walk out of a room and instantly into another, forgetting that I may have promised your relative a blanket or a cup of water because I was “distracted” by someone else.
You’ll wonder why I’ve walked past your relatives room and not entered theirs, you’ll wonder why some people are attended to sooner and you’ll curse my name under your breath as they wait.
You’ll wonder how I seem to have time to sit down and write and wonder why I cannot fix things immediately.
You’ll wonder how, under any circumstance, I could be sharing a smile or a laugh with a co-worker as if laughter has no place.
As I walk in for my shift, you’ll look at me, your eyes saying that you want me to help and you’ll wonder why I can’t just make that happen.
But here’s what, if you’re very lucky, you’ll never see.
You’ll never see me lose. You’ll never see me take off my sweaty gloves and say a goodbye to someone I’ve cared for for months or even years
You’ll never see the weight that we carry home. For minutes or hours, days, or weeks, or even lifetimes.
You’ll never see our children’s faces as we kiss them goodbye on Christmas morning so that we can make it a special day for your family member.
You’ll never see the deep breath we take as we walk into a room to prepare a loved one before family enter to say their last goodbye.
You’ll never see our hearts ache with the pain for those we have nursed and passed and those that continue to battle.
You’ll never see our minds as they tirelessly over think and overwork scenarios, wondering how or if we could do something better next time.
You’ll never see us break the news that someone’s husband or wife, that they have been married to for 50 plus years has died because they have forgotten again, you’ll never see us comfort them as they cry.
And for the most part, I’m okay that you can’t see those things. It’s my job to do, my burden to carry, and my labor of love and service so that you don’t have to, so that the relationship you have remains as it always has been, so that you don’t have to become their Carer. I’ll take on that role for you.
However, I’ll be honest, there are times that I wish you could understand the alternative to your relative that’s waiting. There are times I wish you understood the difference between urgency and emergency. And there are certainly times that I wish I could be transparent enough to tell you when your relative dies it breaks our hearts too.
If you know, or love a Carer please do me a favor and just give them a hug. Or maybe a fist bump if hugging isn’t their thing, or maybe even just a nod of approval but more anything please remember we’re more than just bottom cleaners and tea makers.
We’re working as hard and as fast as we can, and most days, it’s never enough.”
Original source unknown
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Nurses Shouldn’t Be Scared To Call In Sick
My friend had a sky-rocket temperature, I did not have a temperature gauge at the time to take her temperature however she was burning up, to touch she was very hot, it was like touching a radiator. She was talking gibberish and was feeling somewhat rotten.
I had assisted my friend in having a bath and using the toilet, I had given her paracetamol to cool her down and helped her to eat and drink, you see me, and this friend are very close and have known each other for years so I look after her when she needs me, and vice versa. However, this whole situation could have been avoided.
You see this friend works for the NHS, the place where you go to get better.
This friend however feels victimized and bullied by the people whom employ her. I have also heard that other members of staff where she works feel the same.
My friend began to feel poorly on the Friday, she was due in work on the Saturday and Sunday, on the Saturday when she awoke she was very poorly, she had a temperature and she hardly had the strength to walk. When I told her that she needed to get some rest and cancel work she told me that she was already on a stage 1 disciplinary for sickness and that she was fearful of the manager.
The reason she was on a stage one disciplinary, she had been off 3 times (Each time for 1 day or less) in the space of 1 year, 365 days.
The reasons being?
Work related injuries, a bad shoulder and sickness bugs contracted from cleaning up shit and vomit all day every day.
On the first day my friend went to work and came home 1 hour early due to nearly collapsing whilst doing her job.
On the Sunday my friend went into work again, she had stayed in bed until 12 noon, which is not like her at all, she then got up and dragged herself to work for her late shift, again I had helped her have a bath and dress. I advised her not to go into work, however she still feared losing her job or getting a bad reference when she leaves, which she intends on doing this year.
I HAVE a massive question to ask, why in the fuck as human beings do we allow someone to have authority over us to the point that we will go into work when we are dead on our feet in fear of punishment from management?
Why do we have to watch what we (nurses, care staff, doctors.) post on social media in fear of being taken into the office?
It is time to change, it is time new rules were bought in, yes there are people out there that take the piss, they should be dealt with. The ones that say they are ill and then go out and have a beer with the lads and plaster it all over social media. They are the people who should be facing disciplinary action.
However, when you have a nurse whom has done the job for over a decade and is rarely ill, when you have a nurse whom is as a 30-year-old woman fearful of her manager. Then we must start to question, when does enough become enough?
When does the welfare of he nurses, doctors and ambulance crew come into the picture?
When does the welfare of the families of these staff come into the picture?
When does the world wake up and say thank-you, how many people say thank-you to their nurse or doctor?
If there are any managers reading this, how many times do you thank your staff for their work? Or are you concentrating on the things that they have not done, are you concentrating on the fact that they are 2 minutes late as they struggle to get their kids into school on time and then into work. How many times have you asked your workers if they are ok? if there is anything you can do to support them at work?
I today have taken time off work to support my friend. My friend means more to me than any job ever will.
Maybe if we all took a stand when it was necessary to do so, then the care sector managers and higher staff would realise that they are not feared, and that fear is not a way to gain respect and control. To gain respect you must earn it. Respect is earned not given.
Bullies, they get nowhere, as there is always someone around the corner willing to stand up to them.
Remember people, the only person whom can allow someone to have authority over you, is you.
Full credit to a gentleman named Joe.
