Typical Day (edited and re-posted)

(Written in the last months of 2007 and edited to conform to proper rules and guidelines)

A day in the life of a volunteer varies from volunteer to volunteer. We each have different reasons for being there that drives us in our work. Some volunteers are there for personal reasons, they’ve lost someone they loved to AIDS, and choose the hospice as their alter. Some are affiliated with different organizations or churches. Bizzle is a JVC (Jesuit Volunteer Corp) and we have nursing students that are always running around. I don’t know everyone’s story, but I do know that everyone is there for a reason. Some deeply personal and others purely professional, but we’re all there for a reason.

The last shift I worked was Thursday. I picked up Bizzle on my way in and we made our usual stop at Starbucks, soy ice coffee for her, regular coffee and a bagel for me. We sped down the street with the windows down and the sunroof open singing along to The Beatles - Let It Be. It was one of those rare perfect weather days, sunny and breezy with no humidity that only happens before and after winter.

Every shift starts with a brief meeting that goes over every patient, what they need, and what needs to get done. When we walked in on Thursday, we didn’t need a meeting to tell us that it was going to be a crazy day.

The house changes with the patients, new patients always move the house in different directions. Sometimes you have easy going, independent patients that allow you to do what’s necessary with ease, AND sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you have patients that require a lot more effort. I don’t mean effort in a patient care way. I mean effort in a bite my tongue and count to 10 way.

So back to Thursday.
We walk in and it’s immediate Miss. Her diaper needs changing and she needs to get out of her pajamas and into day clothes. She's a hard one, but I like her. Actually, I like her a lot. She requires an extreme amount of patience; she’s feisty and often forgets what she’s doing and who you are. She’s always telling me stuff that we did together (in her head), and asking me to go to on some random trip with her. I’ve noticed that type of mental deterioration in many advanced AIDS patients with brain infections. HIV drugs control infections in the body, but they don’t cross the blood brain barrier.

Miss doesn’t feel like playing nice today so getting her cleaned up is a task. She doesn’t want to change out of her pajamas that are stained from breakfast and she insists on trying to get up and walk by herself. She’s able to stand up on her own, but she knows she can’t walk around. Finally after exerting herself into a sweat, she gives. She lets me get her dressed after I tempt her with lotion on her legs, arms, and back. Lotion does the trick every time. Most patients crave the feeling of being touched by another person. They’re bodies are so ravaged by AIDS that it has been awhile since anyone has touched them.

After I get Miss lotioned up, wig combed and on just right, I put on her underwear with butt pads over her diaper. She hates how skinny she’s gotten and wants her butt to look bigger. She told me that she used to have a “great ass” but the wasting took it from her. Ahhhh those heartbreaking moments of clarity, they dig a little out of you each and every time. Finally ready, I get her in a wheelchair and take her to the living room to watch TV so I can get her room cleaned. Bizzle and I worked on it together. We both work fast, patient’s room done, clean sheets, swept, mopped, surfaces sanitized in no time.

While we were cleaning the room the food bank drops off a truckload of food. No exaggeration, a huge truckload of food. The kitchen had boxes stacked everywhere and all of it needed to be put away.

AND the phone was ringing nonstop.
AND the doorbell kept ringing.
AND the pipe in the nurse’s station busted leaking water everywhere.

Yeah, Thursday was hectic but everything got done. The phone and doorbell got answered. The busted pipe got fixed. The patients were showered, dressed, breakfast and lunch got made (not by me) and all the patients ate. The food from the food bank got put away (somehow??) and I was still able to spend time with the patients, outside of showering and dressing.

I spent time with a patient that I've grown close to and got him out of bed. He’s really particular about his looks. He hates going to the living room looking less then perfect, so if I don’t take the time to get him ready he’ll just stay in bed all day. I’ve seen pictures of him before the lesion scarred his face and body. He was a handsome boy, it’s hard for him to look the way he does now, and he’s not the easiest patient attitude wise. BUT I’ve developed a soft spot for him. I make it a point to spend time with him, plus he’s in the room of a recently departed resident that really touched me. How can I not try harder? His life and death taught me so much about humility and grace.

So Thursday, it was finally over and I was sitting on the patio with the nurse/ team leader who managed to stay calm when Bizzle and I decided that we were going to do a bed transfer on a patient that we had NO business even trying……. to the rescue the nurse came, although he snapped at us a little, but we totally deserved it. Talk about biting off more than you can chew?? We were talking about the craziness of the day and how we managed to pull it off.

It doesn’t really matter why we volunteer, the point is we’re all needed. All of us make a difference. Like the volunteer who was just stopping in to drop something off but got stuck cleaning up the mess from the busted pipe.

Thurday. Thursday. Thursday. I didn’t even get to eat my bagel from Starbucks.