I changed jobs again this summer.
For some reason, job changes are always unexpected — and always fraught.
I love my jobs and can’t stand to leave them, but some Great Force seems to periodically send me away and into the perfect new job. It is a birthing of sorts, and I am just a mess until properly integrated.
Geriatric Skilled Nursing is a crap shoot. It is impossible in terms of economics — the cuts in Medicaid do not improve the situation — and the workload is almost unbearably punishing. You have to have a superb macho confidence to jump in and strike at that floor. The tasks are almost more than possible; the patients are in pain or confused and often mobilizing against their own best interest; your co-workers may not always be completely motivated to get the entire workload done; and the nurses may or may not be reasonable. You never know what you are going to walk into. And that is the joy of it.
At the same time, the work itself is gorgeous, the team is an indelible experience, and the opportunity to have the direct supervision of nurses is the dreamiest training imaginable for a CNA. I had a great two years at Providence Mt. St. Vincent.
Has it been that long? How time flies.
But here we are with a fresh start. It was a nail-biting week and a half before I landed the new position in Home Care/Home Health that could involve me using the full range of skills for individual clients. As it turns out, my first choice of jobs came in, and with some additional credentials, may enable me to straddle the divide between Home Care and Home Health. I keep swearing I am a lifer at this one, but who knows what the next couple of years will bring. It is always a complete surprise.
It feels like it’s settling and I can do more than call in the boat work slip payment. One of these hot summer days, I’ll go take a look at her. I’ve got a couple of new boat works gizmos. We’ll have to try them out.
