When I got to work yesterday, one of the other receptionists told me that we should know by the end of the week whether or not the woman I’m filling in for will be coming back. Debbie (not her real name) said she was pulling for me, and that Paula (not her real name), our supervisor, really wants me to stay as well.
On one hand, this is excellent news:
- I should know in a few days if I will be keeping this job I’ve grown to (mostly) love
- It made me feel really good to hear that my co-worker and my boss want me to stick around
Then there’s the other hand, with the not-so-good news:
- My days there may be numbered
- I will stress more in these next few days than I have been previously
It was really difficult last night trying not to look at some of the residents/family members, etc., that I have begun to care about, and not think to myself, “What if I don’t get to see them anymore?” As I was telling Tim about this last night, I had to fight back tears. I would be losing so much more than just a paycheck…
Mr. Winger (not his real name) is a resident that I see pretty frequently. He is usually accompanied by Mr. Daly (not his real name), and usually doesn’t speak anymore than he has to. Out of curiosity, I looked at Mr. Winger’s diagnoses. “Major depression” was one of them.
Last night, Mr. Winger and Mr. Daly came by for their nightly trek outside. Since Mr. Winger is currently in a wheelchair, and Mr. Daly is somewhat fragile, I offered to get the door for them. I commented on how tan Mr. Winger is, and said he must be spending a lot of time outside lately. For the first time, he actually responded to me with more than just a word or two! He told me I had a tan as well, and then said, “Your name is Stacey, right?” I heard more from him last night than I think I have in all of our ‘conversations’ combined!
Maybe he was having a good day. Or maybe he realized I’m nice to him because I want to be. In any case, it did my heart good. Now if I could just make him smile!
Mr. Peters (not his real name) is a very sweet man who comes to visit his 50-ish-year-old son every single day. Sometimes his wife or his brother come with him, but often, he comes alone. He is always friendly, and always has something nice to say. When he came in last Friday, he asked why his son’s hair hadn’t been cut, even though he had already paid for it. I told him I would look into it for him. Turned out, the woman who had been working the night Mr. Peters paid for the hair cut forgot to put the younger Mr. Peters on the list. So, I took care of it. When Mr. Peters was leaving later, I explained to him what had apparently happened, and that it was fixed. He was happy. When I saw him last night, I told him that his son would be getting his hair cut today when the hairdresser came in. Apparently he had forgotten all about it, but was pleased that it would be done, and thanked me again for handling it.
I realize this may sound pretty trivial, and perhaps not blog-worthy. However, seeing all that this man has to deal with (and I’m sure there’s a lot more I have no idea about), to be able to handle even one, small problem for him makes me feel good, and gives him one less thing to concern himself with. Just think how much better all our lives might be if everyone looked out for everyone else this way.
I don’t want to leave these people. I would miss them terribly. They have made a difference in my life, and, for that, I am very grateful. Whether I get to keep this job or not, that is something I never have to lose.