Well here we are again racing pell-mell through another week. Whew. I need to get roller skates these days. My schedule has gotten so crazy, I can’t keep up with my own self. This morning I was in Costco when my phone rang. It was my therapist. Apparently, we had an appointment booked for 10:30. Looking at the time on my phone I thought, “Yup, right on time”. Since I really didn’t feel it appropriate to try and have an intimate conversation with three hundred other ears in the vicinity, we rescheduled for this afternoon. I wrote it down. Don’t trust my frazzled brain to remember these days.
Tomorrow it’s back to work. Wasn’t I just there? It surely feels like it. Our management staff is in the process of hiring some new people to fill several open positions. There will undoubtedly be a lot of hopeful faces seated in the lobby most of the day. Last week, when they originally began open interviews, I was surprised at the turnout. I would have thought they would have filled all the spots already, but it seems the influx of applicants were more quantity than quality. Not everyone is suited for elder care. Some people might find it distasteful. If you can’t come into the job with love and compassion, you will definitely quickly identify you are working in the wrong place. On Friday, we had probably ten interviews scheduled throughout the day. After lunch, I was seated at my desk, when I noticed a young guy outside the front door doing stretches against the building. We have visitors coming and going all day, so I assumed he was here to see either a family member or friend. He had on bike shorts, a muscle tee shirt, a ball cap, and tennis shoes. This would make little difference in the scheme of things, was I not to find out he was a candidate applying for a junior management position. Finished warming up, he came in the lobby and introduced himself, explaining he had an interview with our wellness manager. Letting the manager know her applicant was in the lobby, I returned with a message for him she was running late and would meet with him shortly. As I do with all people cooling their heels in the lobby, I asked if he needed anything. Water, coffee, fruit, vitamin pack, yoga mat? I get that we’ve become a totally casual society, I really do. I haven’t seen a man in a suit, other than the funeral directors who frequently come in and out our doors, since the missionaries knocked on my door several months ago asking if they could do anything to help salvage my soul. I told them I appreciated the offer, but they were about thirty years too late. Still, I feel bike shorts is taking casual Friday a bit too seriously.
As with most companies these days, our interviewers are armed with a standard set of questions geared to evaluate a potential hiree’s personality, qualifications for the job in question, and general character. I have seen who they hire at times, and wonder if these questionnaires aren’t but a symbolic part of the interview process, and secretly no one actually looks at the answers to the questions they have posed. There is a big turnover in the health care personnel in retirement homes. This is particularly true , it seems, in memory care units, which can be far more stressful environments if you are not my nature a patient person. People with Alzheimers or dementia in critical stages, might repeat the same questions over and over again without ever remembering having done so. Also, some memory care residents can get angry or are even aggressive as their diseases progress. I went in to ask one gentleman the other day how he was doing. The man was a new resident. The daughter was on the phone concerned about how her dad was adapting to the new surroundings. Telling her I’d be happy to check in on him, I knocked, introduced myself, and explained his daughter had been asking after him. He crooked a finger at me to indicate I should lean down closer. I did as requested, and he said in his loudest outdoor voice, “tell my daughter to go f_ _ k herself”. “I’ll pass it on, thanks for the update”. Life in the day of. Dementia presents itself in a variety of ways. In my mother’s case, she was gentle, sweet, rather childlike and pliable. I lucked out. There is a darker side to the disease. In that case, people react to the assault on their minds by lashing out both physically and with their words. You have to let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back. Their anger is not directed at you, but at a world that is quickly changing and becoming unfamiliar. If you grasp that, you are well armed to do the job.
On a totally unrelated subject, my dear friend Nancy and I headed to Tahoe for a day of R&R and lunch on the water last Sunday. It was a glorious day with blue, blue skies overhead and the glorious deep lake below stretching out like a glittering blanket. Lunch was el fresco at our favorite restaurant looking out over the beach with the lake beyond. Loved it. I was struck by how expensive it has become to eat out. In a celebratory mood, we decided to begin our meal with a cocktail. Everyone around us was sipping on something by way of an adult beverage and we decided to hop right in. Both of us ordered a a vodka tonic tall. When the drinks arrived, I took a sip, and the mix in that drink was definitely not what we’d ordered. We signaled our waiter, and told him they were not mixed with tonic. Retrieving our glasses, he returned shortly with nothing on his tray. The bartender, he informed us, said the drinks were vodka and tonic. Nope. I’ve owned a restaurant with a full bar, and have enjoyed a colorful history of sitting someplace or another over the years sipping on a vodka tonic, so I speak from some experience on this particular subject. We told him to nix the drinks and placed our lunch order. Shortly, he returned once again, now with the two drinks once again on his tray. What? Turns out, there had been not been tonic in the first two. Sometimes, I love being right. Yay. So, we enjoyed our drinks, wolfed down two delicious cheeseburgers with fries, and asked for the check. Now, the service was poor, if I’m honest. Our waiter never checked on us to see if we wanted anything else, nor to see if we were happy with what we’d gotten. They were busy, but part of your job as a server is to serve. We will go back, because we love the restaurant, but not because we were well served. The bill also was a bit of a shock. The drinks were $14.75 each. Now, if we’d gotten expensive drinks with high end alcohol, that would make sense, but for a mixed drink hmmmm. The cheeseburger was $24.00. Whew. I read the other day McDonald’s was advertising a hamburger special for $25.00. Really? I’m not a big fan of McDonald’s to be up front, but if I was, I wouldn’t be paying that amount to eat there. I’ve been around long enough to remember when an order of fries was $ .18. Anyhow, then we were handed a device to insert our credit cards. The pre determined tip amounts were displayed on the screen. I don’t like that. I chose other and put in my own amount. I do not believe in tipping a lot for poor service.
I guess I’ll have to limit my time in restaurants for a while until the prices level out a bit. I do love to eat out and will continue to do so several times a month, but $60 for lunch is a bit above my pay grade to be doing too often.
Enjoy your holiday weekend and stay safe. We are having a barbecue with sixteen friends and family on Sunday. Should be perfect weather and a lovely time with people we love. Remember those who have served our country and paid the ultimate price for their service. I will be thinking of my dad.
Talk soon…..
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