This week has officially been the worst week of my life. That funny thing is, I've said that time and time again, but this time I think I mean it. The funny thing is, I don't know where to start. (I wish this week didn't start in fact, I just wish it ended). I'm am horrible at expressing my emotions, but here they are:
I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. Maybe if I keep saying it I'll forget about all the downfalls to my working in a nursing home. For starters, it is not good for someone who already has a bad back. (Excuse my pessimist attitude in this particular post, please).
My new semester just started. My new classes seemed alright, but now I'm reconsidering. I'm not so sure about my Seminary class, my Sociology class has been kind of boring so far, and my Weightlifting class is way too early in the morning! (I have a first period now).
My Interior Design class has been stressing me out. We had this huge project to do, so on Monday and Tuesday my group had to pull something together. Somehow we won the competition in our school and had to compete district wide. We had to redo everything and put more effort into it, along with preparing an oral presentation. I had absolutely no time for this so I had to go before school, during class, lunch, and even skip some classes in order to pull it all together. We didn't win (which I'm OK with, that means that we don't have to put even more time into the project of designing the interior of a real house), but it's just frustrating to know we put that much time into it and came out with pretty much nothing. (Well, besides a $75 gift certificate between three of us).
Back to my job. One of the downfalls of it is becoming close with the residents and then losing them. That happened this week with a lady that I was extremely close with. Every since I have been there me and her had a certain connection, it's hard to explain, but she was almost a grandmother to me. Every time I saw her she would look up into my eyes and gasp, "Look at those brown eyes!", "You are just the cutest thing. You know that, don't you?!", "You are cuter than a bugs ear!", "Do you have a boyfriend?!", (that's when I would interject that he left on his mission, she would ask where to and I would respond Taiwan.) "TAIWAN?! Ohhhh my goodness Taiwan! Wow. He's lucky, you know that? He better never let you go. Tell him I'm rooting for him.", "You are so pretty. I know I tell you that every day, but I've got to! It's true!", "I love you so much. You are so good to me. I don't know what I would do without you." (Then she would hug me and kiss me on the cheek). We would have that dialog every day. That along with so many other things. We'd talk about everything. She told me about when she use to hike timp, about when she was a model for JC Penny, how she married her high school English teacher and he was so handsome, about her kids, about her love of birds. I developed a bond with her that I will never forget. This past Wednesday she passed away. I was working on her side on Wednesday, so I got to take care of her in her last stages of dying. I had been preparing myself for her death the past week or so since it was obvious she was going downhill and wouldn't come out of it. I had the opportunity to talk with her family that day, in hopes of comforting them. After she had passed on, it was my responsibility to do the post-mortem since she was on my side. A couple girls came to help me, which I was grateful for. A post-mortem consists of cleaning the body completely with a bed bath and putting clean clothes and a clean brief on the body and changing the sheets while the body is in bed. (Sounds horrible, I know). The whole time I was performing this I was having flashbacks of memories I had with this particular resident. It was so hard to put my emotions on hold and not break out in tears right then. She was a wonderful lady, I will miss her dearly.
I don't really know how to transition from that into the rest of my week, but the rest of the week I had my friend in the back of my mind--but didn't really myself mourn the loss of her. Friday my siblings went to Nevada to hear Barac Obama (sorry if I spelled that wrong) speak. I wanted to go with them, I really needed an out and I thought that would be the perfect thing. I was scheduled to work Friday, so I tried to get someone to take my shift. No one would. Surprise? Not at all. I went to work, and boy am I glad I did. I got a compliment on my false teeth. (A resident thought I had dentures?)
This week really couldn't get worse. I honestly thought that was true. This morning I had to run to the bank drive-thru really fast and deposit some money. As I was backing out of my driveway so was my across the street neighbor. Neither of us saw the other and we backed into each other. Both of us with our brand new cars. It was splendid. The cops came and everything. Three cops in fact. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, I looked ridiculous with my huge sweats and my hair a mess, oh and don't forget my retainers were still in. I hadn't even brushed my teeth yet. Yummy. It looks like we're both paying for the damage on our own cars. I felt horrible, though. I'm going to have to pay a $500 deductible to get my car fixed. I'm so excited.
That is the conclusion of my horrible week (I hope). Knock on wood, right? Well it couldn't get worse, but I've said that once before.