this company has taken away the control of the care giver and given it to the client. I believe they have made a big mistake. I was fired from a seventeen year old paraplegic because he wanted a cuter younger care giver. (she was twenty and have a large chest) I was not to take offense to this, but I had two weeks without work because of his preference. Another woman was fired because her client thought her care giver was too fat.
Today I took in my two week resignation, and they called me later this afternoon and told me I was not welcome back and they were giving MF (the ogress) a new caregiver on Monday, and would I kindly bring her things that I purchased for her off hours now. I said I would when I pick up my pay check in the morning.I was rather shocked by their attitude. So I asked, "is there a problem?" they assured me there was not, but it felt strange, and perhaps I am being overly sensitive, but usually my instincts are quite right. So I am out of two weeks of work, but it is worth not driving fifty miles back and forth, plus all the things she has me do. It is not right for her to have a shopping day at will any time she pleases, the Medicaid states she gets one shopping day a week, but she finds all kinds or reasons, most of them life threatening why I have to do it.My boss totally supports her whims. Someone will be getting a very disgruntled Ogress on Monday, but it won't be me, and I am not sad about that, only that my reputation is important to me, and I think its just been tainted.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Things were going all right in the beginning with the ogress yesterday, she took the access bus to the doctor and I went along, I was thankful to get out of the smoke ridden house. I now smoke 18 hours a week (not by choice) because she is a chain smoker and keeps everything closed up tight. I smell so bad when I leave her employ that I have to come home and shower before I go anywhere. I drive the 25 miles home with the windows down trying to air myself out, it doesn't work.
We got back to her home from the doctor, and I got a lecture on the proper moving of a wheelchair. I get this one three times a week, and I quietly bear it. Then I was told to go to the pharmacy and drop off a prescription and then drive further to a different store to get some supplies. She hit the roof when I got back for two reasons. ONE. I had mistakenly gotten chicken of the sea tuna instead of bubble bee. I meant to get bumble bee, but got forgetful at the last moment. TWO.. The pharmacist had explained to me how to use her new medication and had not hand written her a special note. She likes special notes, even though all the information is on the bottle and can be easily read. I made sure there was no child proof bottles because she has a hard time opening them. I made every special effort for her sake.However I knew there would be something to cause her anger, and of course there was.She made me late clocking out again, she likes to start explaining things when it is time for me to go. She does not care if I get paid or not by medicaid.I left her and hour later then planned, and gave her a sweet smile, asked her to get some rest and said I would see her on Friday... Stinking and sweating (another blasted hot flash, which makes my cheeks turn very pink) I headed to my car, sprayed myself liberally with fabreeze knowing it wouldn't help, dumped off her garbage at the Dumpster, mailed her letter, later bought her the correct tuna, which turns out is a dollar more a can, so I lose out on that deal, I had to take the wrong tuna home.I had a message on my cell phone from Dwain. He and I had talked if I got more hours at the Port of Hope, I could quit working for assisting hands. He okaed it with the boss, and gave up one of his graveyard shifts JUST FOR ME! and I can now work graveyard shift on Thursdays. this will work for me, I can go to classes, then come home and sleep then go to work for 8 hours then sleep. Saturday I would work 6 to 6 and Sunday.So it's 32 hours a week at the same place, no more driving around for the ogress or who-ever else assisting hands sends me to. I worked for a little boy from Africa that has sickle cell anemia, I have worked for a new mother with two small children, I have worked for stroke victims, I have had some difficult cases. The trend seems to be with a lot of these people is the more they get the more they want. They have a sense of entitlement and are not in the least grateful. I would be if someone came to my house and helped me. But very few of the worthy poor are happy with what they get, they quietly look around for more. I of course do not feel it is my place to tell them this, and quietly go about my chores and wish that I can quit.Thanks to Dwain, I am trying to write a resignation letter today.
I think simple is best. I had already tried to explain to my boss how difficult MF (ogress) is and he didn't believe me as I had mentioned. She oozes sweetness on the phone to my boss, how wonderful glena is, what an angel glena is... She always treats me like I am a big idiot.I do not know what type of person should replace me, but certainly one not so submissive as I am. Someone who has quiet dignity and will re-direct the negative flow from ogress. I wish her well, and I hope she gets a nice caregiver who cares about her as much as I did. For all my grousing, I always wanted her utmost comfort, but I will not think of her when I am gone.
We got back to her home from the doctor, and I got a lecture on the proper moving of a wheelchair. I get this one three times a week, and I quietly bear it. Then I was told to go to the pharmacy and drop off a prescription and then drive further to a different store to get some supplies. She hit the roof when I got back for two reasons. ONE. I had mistakenly gotten chicken of the sea tuna instead of bubble bee. I meant to get bumble bee, but got forgetful at the last moment. TWO.. The pharmacist had explained to me how to use her new medication and had not hand written her a special note. She likes special notes, even though all the information is on the bottle and can be easily read. I made sure there was no child proof bottles because she has a hard time opening them. I made every special effort for her sake.However I knew there would be something to cause her anger, and of course there was.She made me late clocking out again, she likes to start explaining things when it is time for me to go. She does not care if I get paid or not by medicaid.I left her and hour later then planned, and gave her a sweet smile, asked her to get some rest and said I would see her on Friday... Stinking and sweating (another blasted hot flash, which makes my cheeks turn very pink) I headed to my car, sprayed myself liberally with fabreeze knowing it wouldn't help, dumped off her garbage at the Dumpster, mailed her letter, later bought her the correct tuna, which turns out is a dollar more a can, so I lose out on that deal, I had to take the wrong tuna home.I had a message on my cell phone from Dwain. He and I had talked if I got more hours at the Port of Hope, I could quit working for assisting hands. He okaed it with the boss, and gave up one of his graveyard shifts JUST FOR ME! and I can now work graveyard shift on Thursdays. this will work for me, I can go to classes, then come home and sleep then go to work for 8 hours then sleep. Saturday I would work 6 to 6 and Sunday.So it's 32 hours a week at the same place, no more driving around for the ogress or who-ever else assisting hands sends me to. I worked for a little boy from Africa that has sickle cell anemia, I have worked for a new mother with two small children, I have worked for stroke victims, I have had some difficult cases. The trend seems to be with a lot of these people is the more they get the more they want. They have a sense of entitlement and are not in the least grateful. I would be if someone came to my house and helped me. But very few of the worthy poor are happy with what they get, they quietly look around for more. I of course do not feel it is my place to tell them this, and quietly go about my chores and wish that I can quit.Thanks to Dwain, I am trying to write a resignation letter today.
I think simple is best. I had already tried to explain to my boss how difficult MF (ogress) is and he didn't believe me as I had mentioned. She oozes sweetness on the phone to my boss, how wonderful glena is, what an angel glena is... She always treats me like I am a big idiot.I do not know what type of person should replace me, but certainly one not so submissive as I am. Someone who has quiet dignity and will re-direct the negative flow from ogress. I wish her well, and I hope she gets a nice caregiver who cares about her as much as I did. For all my grousing, I always wanted her utmost comfort, but I will not think of her when I am gone.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
All good things come to an end
I am off to battle again, not the battle of swords, but the battle of silence and temperance.
I hope a few days away have given me fortitude. I don't feel ready.
Ogress declined another helper. She awaits me, her angel. Right. I do not feel very angelic, but I feel a bit like a tortured saint, without the saintly qualifications.
Am I nuts?
The boss mentioned me making up hours with her. I SAID< "NO PLEASE, it tires "HER" out too much" meaning me actually.
Today tomorrow the next day, I did the figures in my head, I cannot afford to quit yet.
So two jobs it is, and very little time for anything else. Geology is still a drag, and Social work is my favorite class.
It has been my favorite through out my life, oh that sounds sanctomonious doesn't it?
Off I go, my sactomonious butt off to the ungrateful, and surely the unworthy.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
The essentially happy person
IS CALLING IN SICK!
well sick sounds better then the water heater exploded, the fridge is leaking, and the toilet needs a new seal. Needed a new seal means they have to pull the whole thing up out of the floor, and I must hide my alarmed contraband cats. I am allowed one kitty, I have three.. I just can't count. ok? Nobody would fall for that one.
Anyway, me of small attention span, must stay home one day and get all of this stuff done, its becoming emergency proportions.
Important stuff.
I Toast the Ogress, may she find a lovely thick skinned caregiver.
I will enjoy torn up floors and nervous cats far more. I shall sing my happy song, and practice my very sick voice before I call in, must not expose the ogress to my illness...
well sick sounds better then the water heater exploded, the fridge is leaking, and the toilet needs a new seal. Needed a new seal means they have to pull the whole thing up out of the floor, and I must hide my alarmed contraband cats. I am allowed one kitty, I have three.. I just can't count. ok? Nobody would fall for that one.
Anyway, me of small attention span, must stay home one day and get all of this stuff done, its becoming emergency proportions.
Important stuff.
I Toast the Ogress, may she find a lovely thick skinned caregiver.
I will enjoy torn up floors and nervous cats far more. I shall sing my happy song, and practice my very sick voice before I call in, must not expose the ogress to my illness...
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