• Listen up, and listen clear, this is my story and I’ll tell it how I saw it and say how I felt about it. Since I’ve said that, you should know that means that other people may have seen or felt differently about it, I don’t care what they have to say. It’s my story not theirs. This story is about a girl, me, and her job as a dietary aid in a nursing home. No, it was never boring.
    What can I say about the place I work? It’s Hell with a little bit of Heaven. The Hell part would be the kitchen. When summer time rolls around with the ovens going and the dishwasher running and you yourself running around with your head cut off….. Scrubs do not keep you cool. On a side note, nor do they seem to keep you warm.

    The environment is not the only thing that makes it Hell. I can’t forget about the employees, I work with 99.9% female and a small percentage of men. Men, they don’t seem to last very long. But then again, the nurses or CNA’s don’t seem to last that long either. Once CNA classes start a whole new batches appears and disappears. It’s a repeated cycle. I’m not very good with names. It doesn’t really help when people are quitting and joining left and right.

    In a nursing home and in any department of that nursing home you will come to find out the different types of people. There are the fat asses and skinny bitches and somewhere in between them you will find the ones that work their asses off. Those ones I’ve come to understand are a rare breed. I’ve come to have hatred for some nurses and adore others. I’ve come to hate and love the residents.

    And that, to whoever is reading this, is the Heaven to my Hell. The residents.