Loooooong Day

Wow! Overwhelming response on the "Caroline in the Mornings" blog. Thanks for caring!
In a previous blog, I wrote a typical day in the life of me, a Speech Pathologist, in the nursing home and hospital. Well, today was another doozie. Here goes:

6:00 Original alarm goes off.
7:45 Alarm that has been reset for the 4th time goes off. I finally get up. FYI, being a contract
therapist would rock your world. You can pretty much call the shots on your hours as
long as your patient's are being covered.
7:50 I quickly recall my dream that I had: I had a dream about Oprah Winfry. Well, she died. I am scared to post this, that she will find out about and and sue me, but Oprah if you are reading this, I can't control
what I dream. I don't even know how she died, I just remember that I heard in the
news "Oprah has passed away" and I remember thinking, "Man, and she JUST lost all
that weight. After working so hard for all those years. And now she can't even enjoy
it." Poor Oprah.
8:45 I stumble into work. I still have a retreat hangover (Not that kind of hangover, Dad, I've
never been drunk, I am referring to a hangover from too much fun and craziness
crammed into one weekend.)
9:15 I see my first patient. His roomate is getting a bath, which means the room smells
FRESH. I almost pass out from the smell. He makes his daily pass at me during the
facial exercises to kiss him. Will he never give up?
10:15 Second patient. This sweet little lady is one I have been seeing for awhile. This is our
conversation:
Me: How are you doing this morning honey?
Her (in an excited voice): Good. I just went to the bathroom.
Me (now typically I wouldn't ask this, but she looked and sounded so excited, I think
it would have hurt her feelings if I hadn't asked): Really, how'd that work out for you?
Her (big grin): It was really GREAT.
11:15 Walking down the hallway in the Independent Living section of the facility I am in. A
male resident stops me (keep in mind, the people are very prim and proper in this place.
It is a very up-to-do place). He says, "Well hi there. Were you going to see Mr.Anderson?"
(There are so many residents in this place. I have no idea who he is talking about). I say
no. He persists and I explain to him that I don't know who he thinks I am, but I am the
Speech Therapist. He says, "Well who are you coming to see?" I told him in a nice way
that I was not at liberty to tell him this. He says (in a slightly dirty old man kind of way),
"Well, you know, I am an older man, and I would love some therapy. I can't speak English
very well." I assure him he is fine and move on.
11:30 I have a date with my little 92 yo patient who always pours me orange juice. I wish you
could see him. He is precious. Our generation just doesn't dress this way anymore.
He and his wife are always dressed to the nine, always put together. Tuesday I came
a little early and he had his pajama top on with khakis and tassled shoes, with another
pj top to cover that up, and he thought he was indecent. I assured him I had seen guys
in a lot less than that (at the beach, Dad, at the beach). Anyway, today he walked in with
his cane and his push walker, with a button down shirt, a tie, and argyle sweatervest, and
a black tweed blazer with a very nice scarf draped over his left shoulder. He has a blue
little hat on (kind of like a golfers hat) and nice slacks with dress shoes. ADORABLE! I
felt inadequate in my purple scrubs, although he always makes me feel like a princess
when I am there. Maybe I should wear my tiara to therapy next time. He would
understand.
12:30 I have now left the nursing home in Green Hills and driven to Hendersonville Medical
Center. I find out I have 4 outpatients and 3 inpatients. It's gonna be a long afternoon.
I see my first pt for a swallow evaluation. She has decided she doesn't want to eat
anymore. Here we go....
1:15 I have a little 8o year old lady who is receiving voice therapy b/c she is suffering
from age-related voice changes. I find it interesting that she can turn and yell at her
son to hush up, but when I ask her to say, "ahhhh" she has no voice. The entire hour we
are doing therapy I hear the 6 year old with Down's Syndrome in the next room with the
OT. He is screaming, yelling, and carrying on. He is my next patient.
2:15 Me and the screamer duke it out. Not really. He was okay. He just kept screaming and I
kept making the ASL sign for NO! (your index and middle finger close down quickly to
your thumb). He keeps snorting like a cross b/t a pig and a mad goat. I then try to teach
him the concept of big/little utilizing playdough in the shape of a ball. He kept throwing
them across the room, about 1000000000000 times. I almost made that pig/goat sound
back at him, but I refrained. I am the grownup. I am the grownup. I am the grownup.
5:00 Finish up with my final 2 outpatients, one little guy who can't say his /r/ (you just want to
take their little tongues and show them how to do it. I kind of did, using gloves, of course.)
The other patient was a 46 year old who had a small stroke, and has made a full recovery.
That is always so encouraging to see.
5:05 I check my messages on my cell phone. The house that Regain, Tiara, and I applied for
in Crieve Hall went through! Yea! I am moving in 2 weeks! Scary. I experience a quick,
but intense emotional rollercoaster. Anyone available to help a girl move on May 14th?
5:15 Back to the hospital. Attempt this eval with a little lady who has Alzheimers but just had
a stroke. Bad combo. The good news is, her family is there to repeat everything I ask
the lady the second I ask it. PEOPLE! Heaven forbid your parent or child ever need
therapy, but if they do, here's a friendly tip from me to you: When the therapist asks,
"Are you a man?" or "Are you in the hospital?" and your dear loved one doesn't answer
after the first nanosecond and that person has just suffered a major neurological injury,
you NEED NOT shout it again, as if they can't hear you. And then have your spouse
shout it again, as if they couldn't hear the first 2 morons. It's probably that they are not
processing the question, not that they can't hear. This is literally how it went.
Me: Point to your nose.
Son: Point to your nose Mama.
Son's wife: Point to your nose Sue.
Son: POINT TO YOUR NOSE MAMA!
Son's wife: SUE YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR NOSE IS. SHOW HER YOUR NOSE!"
Are you kidding me?
6:15 Last pt of the day. This little lady who has had a stroke. Did anyone see the ER about a
month ago where the lady had a stroke and it showed it from her point of view. That's
what it was like. I know she is in there. She would squeeze my hand and follow some
commands, but she has no control over her mouth muscles right now. I did a lot of
stimulation to her mouth muscles (kind of like massage and then stimulating her taste
with cold/sour/extreme tastes). It's really sad. I talked to her as if she could understand
everything that I could say. I hope she does.
7:00 WHEW! Work day is over! I drive home, sad to find that I have left my much needed
crown that Rachel gave me for days such as these at home. Along with all of my cd's. I
desperately need some Nelly. Rats.