Untold Stories of Working in a Nursing Home.
I use to work at a nursing home. I worked in the activities department, and it was a great job. Unfortunately at a nursing home, there tends to be patients, and patients mean nurses, and nurses can only mean one thing, needles and blood. Now I wouldn't classify it as a phobia, but a needle and a drop of blood could make me turn pale and hit the floor. I like to not find out. Some how these nurses caught wind of my predicament. What may be funny to them may be anothers down fall.
Before dinner I'd get to hang out with the residents and chat with them. "Oh ya, civil war coin collections are the shit." and "Yep, DVDs are quite the mind boggler." Out of no where I'd here my name being called out behind me. Heedless to what was about to happen, I turned to see who was the one calling to me. A nurse. Not only a nurse, but a nurse equipped with a glucose monitor. When I was able to put all the pieces together, it was to late. The nurse had just drew blood from this poor old man, only for the sake of his blood sugar. The nurses expression could only be the one of Ashton Kutcher after he had just told somebody, "You have just been punked, bitch" The nurse skipped out of the dinning room, only leaving me with the resident who was obliviously unaware of the blood bath that had just occurred in front of him.
I'd imagine the nurses sitting behind their big laminate wood desk, trying to figure out how to terrify me. My sister was a nurse here. My own flesh and blood. Maybe they were asking her what else I was affraid of. Maybe one of them would ask her "Is she afraid of Mrsa?" " Ya, lets get her with that next." Who knew.
Around flu season the nurses were aloud to give out the flu vaccine to the employees. You don't know what its like to walk by the nurses station every day with your sister trying to convince you to get the vaccine. I'd soon run out of excuses and give in. It couldn't be that bad. My sister was only trying to arm me against the terriable influenza virus. I mean the unbreakable bond of sister-hood was at hand. What other choice do i have. Now I'm starting to smell the alcohol wipes and I'm already losing consciousness. She pulls out the syringe and my knees begin to buckle. "Its OK, it will only take two seconds." is what she told me. A bead of sweat rolls down my fore-head, but the reassuring words form my big sister calm my heart beat. I think to myself, at least I have one nurse on my side. Here it comes. Right before she was about to assault me with this needle, she cranked her neck to the left, and yelled out,"Hey Jessica, you gotta come see this!."
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