This Will Make You Sto-Mad

, , , , , | Healthy | June 26, 2019

(I work as a trainee in a care home. I’ve been there just three days. This is my second traineeship, which will teach me specific nursing skills, like inserting a bladder catheter, stoma care, wound care, etc. It’s afternoon and I’m working with two coworkers who aren’t happy with me being there. Normally, they’d sit in the staffroom telling trainees what to do, but since this is my third day, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do exactly, which means that they need to show me. An alarm call comes in from the apartment of a married couple. We go there to see what’s wrong. When we get through the front door, the smell of faeces hits us. Going through to the living room the smell gets worse. We find the husband, who has Alzheimer’s, nearly in tears. He points us to the bathroom where we find his wife, sitting on a stool, covered from her shoulders to her knees in faeces. She has managed to partly undress and it’s immediately clear that her stoma bag has exploded.)

Coworker #1: “Yeah, not dealing with this!”

Coworker #2: “Me, neither!”

(And they both just leave. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. When the woman sees them leave and sees me, she starts bawling her eyes out. I know she hasn’t had her stoma for long and she’s only seen me once, this morning, when I asked her if I could watch her stoma care and help her. She knows I haven’t handled anything like this before.)

Me: “All right, let’s get you undressed.”

(I peek around the door and ask her husband to grab five towels, two bin-bags, and underwear for his wife. To my amazement, he comes back with exactly what I asked for a short while later.)

Patient: “You never did this before; you can’t handle this. It’s a mess!”

Me: “Yes, it is, but we’ll do this together. You’ll see; it’ll be fine.”

(I dress up in gloves and a plastic apron and begin to undress her, throwing the clothes on the ground near the shower, but far enough from her that she won’t stand on the faeces. I give her the showerhead and start peeling off the stoma plate. This, together with the stoma bag, goes into one of the bin-bags. By now, she starts feeling a bit better. The smell still isn’t nice, but since a lot of faeces is being washed down the drain, it’s getting better. Her husband asks if everything is all right. I tell him yes and ask him to make a cup of tea.)

Patient: *crying* “Why did they leave? Why did they leave you here?”

Me: “I don’t know, but I’ll get you sorted. Your husband is making tea, so when you’re dressed your cuppa is waiting.”

Patient: “Thank you for doing this.”

Me: “Yeah, well, I want this to be my job, so it’s no big deal.”

(When she’s clean and feeling better, I transfer her to the toilet so she can get dressed. Normally, I’d do this on the stool, but since it’s not entirely clean in that area I have to transfer her. Meanwhile, I rinse out her clothes and put them in the other bin-bag, to go into the washing. When she’s dressed in her underwear, I help her with her stoma materials. I walk her to the bedroom to get dressed further and clean the shower as best as I can without the proper materials. She’s still wobbly from her experience, so I go and check on the husband. He’s boiled the water, but then forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I make tea for both of them and, when I’ve written in their patient book what has happened, I go and check on them again.)

Patient: “Thank you, dear, for everything you’ve done. Now, go get the signature you need for that stoma care. You’ve done great, considering they’ve left you while they knew you hadn’t handled anything like this before.”

Me: “Thank you. I’ll try to talk to them about this. It’s horrible that they left you like that. They shouldn’t have.”

Patient: “I know, but I’m glad you were there.”

(I take her clothes to the laundry room and the coworker there washes them immediately. I find one of the cleaners, tell them what happened, and ask them if they have time to clean the bathroom. They agree. I then walk to the staffroom where I know both coworkers and the manager will be for their tea break.)

Me: *slamming my workbook on the table before both coworkers* “Sign here and there.”

Coworker #1: *looks at where I’m pointing* “I can’t sign this; I haven’t seen you doing stoma care.”

Me: “Of course, you haven’t. You both walked out on the patient while she was covered in faeces from her shoulders to her knees. If I remember correctly your words were, ‘I’m not gonna deal with this,’ and you left her there, in tears, covered in faeces.”

Coworker #2: “I—”

Me: “You did the exact same thing. You walked out on her, too.”

Manager: “What? You left a patient who needed help? [My Name], can I see the book?”

(I give her the book and she signs without hesitating.)

Manager: “You go home early today; you’ve done enough. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” *points to the two coworkers* “You two, in my office. Now!”

(The next day, I’m a little scared to go back, as I know leaving a patient who needs care is a really bad thing to do. When I get to the staffroom, both coworkers who should’ve been working aren’t there.)

Manager: *when everyone else is present* “I just want to tell you guys that [Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] have been placed on unpaid leave for six weeks due to negligence. They’ve left [Patient] with our trainee when she badly needed help. This is inexcusable. You all can understand that, right? Now, [My Name], can you come to my office later to fill out a few witness statements about what happened yesterday?”

(I agreed and we all went to work. I was inundated with questions from other coworkers about what had happened and they were all appalled by my responses. After I’d filled out the witness statements, a couple of weeks went by where we heard nothing more of either coworker. After four weeks, we found out one had been let go as she’d had a warning about negligence before, and the other found another care home to work with.)

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Acting Like A Caffeine Teen

, , , , | Working | May 21, 2019

(My coworker, who has just come in for her shift, comes up to my desk. She’s in her 20s and a fairly intelligent person, or so I thought. By my desk is a small coffee station for the residents, visitors, and staff.)

Coworker: “Is there any coffee up here?”

Me: “Probably not by this time of day. You could try in the kitchen and see if they have any.”

Coworker: *whiny voice* “I just did. They don’t. What do I do now?”

Me: *pause* “You could make some?”

Coworker: *eyes go wide* “Oh… I guess I could do that!” *trots off happily to the kitchen to do so*

Me: “I need to go home now.”

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Living Paycheck To Announcement About Paycheck

, , , , | Working | May 20, 2019

(It’s Friday, and a payday Friday at that. I’ve already planned my bills, paid one through my mobile app, and decided what I’m getting for groceries, you know, like a normal budgeting adult. My coworker comes in and I say hello to her.)

Coworker: “Hello, [My Name].”

Me: “Hey [Coworker]. Happy payday!”

Coworker: *stops dead in her tracks, eyes go wide* “It’s payday?!”

Me: “Yes?” *laughs at her shocked expression* “How do you not know this?!”

Coworker: “It’s payday!” *does a happy dance off down the hallway* “Thanks, [My Name]!”

Me: “You’re… welcome?”

(Seriously. How do you not know when you get paid?! It must be nice not to have to worry about money!)

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Being A Senior Does Not Give You Seniority

, , , | Right | May 1, 2019

(I work at a senior assisted living home. We have a schedule for our residents every day, with certain events at certain times.)

Resident: “So, is [event] at the front desk, then?”

Me: “It’s in the front lobby, at 9:30, near the front desk.”

Resident: “So, it’s now, then? Everybody’s ready.”

(No one else is around.)

Me: *looks up at the huge clock behind desk* “No, it’s only twenty after eight. You have an hour and ten minutes until it starts! You could go have some coffee in the dining room or—“

Resident: *cuts me off* “No, we’re ready now.”

Me: “That’s great, but it doesn’t start for an hour and ten minutes yet.”

Resident: “Well, it should start now, because we’re ready.”

(She continued on that way for a good ten minutes. It’s great that you’re excited for the event, but entitled much?! And no one else ever did show up to be part of the “we” that was supposedly ready.)

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Monkeying Around With Windows

, , , , , | Legal | April 27, 2019

(I’m sitting at my desk at work, typing away, minding my own business, when the phone rings. I pick up the call and hear my very favorite line.)

Caller: “Hello, this is Windows Technical Support. I am calling about a problem with your computer.”

Me: *cue troll-face* “No, you’re not.”

Caller: *pauses* “Yes, ma’am. I am calling because your computer has reported a virus.”

Me: “My computer has gained self-awareness and reported its own problem?!”

Caller: *pauses and I can hear the confusion* “This is Windows Technical Support, ma’am.”

Me: *legs crossed, trying not to pee laughing* “No, it’s not. Do people seriously fall for this anymore? You guys have really got to get honest work.”

Caller: *pauses again* “This is not a scam.”

Me: “Yeah. It really is. I’m not stupid. Have you heard of karma? Because you’re getting a lot of the bad kind right now.”

Caller: *mumbles something under his breath I can’t make out* “Are you mad, ma’am? Are you mad?”

Me: *almost explodes into a giggle-fit* “Yes, actually. I’m mad you keep calling my place of employment and interrupting my day.”

(I’m actually not mad at all. This is my favorite thing ever: to mess with scammers.)

Caller: “You are mad! You are a mad monkey!”

Me: *almost chokes* “I’m sorry, what?”

Caller: “YOU ARE A MAD MONKEY! A MAD MONKEY!” *starts screaming in another language and hangs up*

Me: *dissolves into a five-minute-long laughing fit*

(He honest-to-god called me a mad monkey. I thought I was going to pass out from laughing. That was much more entertaining than the one who called me a stupid b****. God, I hope he or his friends call back soon.)

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