You look like you just found out that Santa isn’t real, the old lady said to me from her plush, queen-sized bed.
I was only supposed to be cooking meals, helping her eat and take her medicine, not give her a sponge bath and transfer her to a toilet-chair. I didn’t have the training to be a home health aide, the job I applied for was a helper/companion.
I had been mislead and lied to. I would report the agency the next day.
I will never forget this woman, who was 93, quite frail and basically dying. Her rich son was across the country doing his thing, while she festered away with inadequate caregivers.
Imagine her anger, the fear that she must have had. She had nothing good to say about him, complaining to me while I did my best to wash her rail-thin body.
Afterward, I took her vein-ridden…
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