Wednesday, October 28, 2015

That one time (compared to all of the other times) that my friend had a panic attack.

(She has a shit ton of panic attacks).

In 2010 (I can't believe that was almost six years ago, I'm getting old as shit) things were going pretty good. I mean, I would've preferred for more things to have been going my way, but who wouldn't? Ah, the days of when I ate like I do now while drinking copious amounts of alcohol and Dr. Pepper and my pants remained a size 00.

The only thing that has changed on that front is the pants size. Whatevs, I'm good with it.

I was working at the nursing home at the time (I had been there a little over two years) and pretty much never left the skilled hall. In nursing home slang, the "skilled hall" means the hall full of the people that require more care or full care (i.e. Dementia, Alzheimers, splints, paraplegic, quadriplegic, etc.). I enjoyed working on that hall and considered it "my hall". Not "my hall" as in I owned it or was in charge, but "my hall" as in the one I just always worked on.

Everybody that worked there had "their hall" (it was before new management took over and ruined all of our lives), at least in most cases. We would all travel to all of the other ones to help out and would call each other over the loud speaker (or from down the hallway) when we needed or wanted someone specific. I was still working evenings/nights at the time, and was pretty close with almost everyone that I worked with. It's amazing how close you get to some people when you're with them 8-16 hours a day, 6-7 days a week.

That was also the year that swine flu hit the south like a ton of bricks. You laugh, but it's true. People were getting so sick that they were dying (I refuse to say they died from the flu, I go with flu related complications). There were warning signs in the windows of grocery stores and all facilities open to the public to warn people.

Someone made a sign that we had to hang in the nursing home to ward off people coming in that had a cough or fever. It was a real cute sign to, had a little piggy on it with a thermometer in its mouth..... and now that I think back on it, that was probably considered tacky (doesn't make it less cute- we all liked it). Of course, almost every single person got sick (employees and residents) no matter how many precautions we took, because some bitches don't listen when you tell them to keep their fevers away.

There were very few of us that didn't get sick and the hall I worked on was the worst, for the simple fact that we had the most patients (43 in total). Because of this, we had to quarantine and the ones of us that didn't get sick worked double shifts (and then some).

Of course, B. Davis didn't handle the quarantine well. That's what happens when you make someone who's claustrophobic wear a quarantine suit and lock all the doors. Which is hilarious to me, because the doors were always locked and required a code to get in/out of, but she chose that moment to freak out about it. It shouldn't surprise me, she's also the person that turned blue on me and passed out, because she was in denial about being knocked up..... another story for another day.

The point is, yes B. Yes, I remember working 20 hour shifts for almost two weeks. Yes, I remember eating fries, candy and Powerade for breakfast/lunch/dinner. Yes, I remember having to take shifts napping in Mrs. V's recliner, because we weren't allowed to leave the building. Yes, I remember having to blow in your face to make you catch your breath, because according to you "this bird can't be caged in, this bird has to spread her wings to fly." Yes, I remember dancing up and down the halls while bringing people ice water multiple times to keep them hydrated. Yes, I remember the look on your face the first time you seen me rap Eminem trying to calm you down (it totally worked). Yes, I remember the messes that we had to clean up (and the God awful way we smelled after all was said and done). And finally, yes, I do remember all of you awesome people that I used to work with and still consider my surrogate family.  

Here's looking at you.