Cutting My Teeth

Tomorrow marks the end of my fifth week here in Placerville, CA. Wow is it going fast! At least now, that is. Some of you may be wondering why it has taken me so long to blog about work. Well, I guess there are two reasons why, the first is that I have always been focused more on enjoying life than work. So it was just natural to talk about where I am living and what I am doing, rather than work. But the real reason that I haven't written about it is that it has taken me several weeks to get over the shock of my major career shift!


The place I'm working is a skilled nursing facility, or SNF (pronounced sniff), as we say in the medical world. Okay, a SNF is no hospital and it's certainly no outpatient orthopedic clinic like the one's I've spent the better part of the last 10 years, but this SNF is one of a kind. It has a character of its own. If Stephen King could personify a SNF, it might be just like this.


From the outside it looks like any other 1970's nursing home, complete with it's stone facade and ranch-style appearance, but after you enter the front door...it's an entirely different world! It is dated to say the least. Picture aging linoleum tiles and dusty corners, heavy curtains on the windows, an ancient sounding intercom and noises that reverberate like Jimmy Hendrix's guitar solo's at the Fillmore. And that's only the beginning.


I walked in on Monday morning, August 11th with a positive outlook and a smile. I arrived a few minutes early for my "orientation" and was immediately engulfed by the chaotic nature of the place. There were room lights going off, people screaming over the intercom, residents screaming in the halls from their wheelchairs, and I thought to myself, "what have I just gotten myself into?" I'm still not quite sure I can answer that question.


But I was pointed immediately to my supervisor, and she whisked me out of the hallway and into the PT office, closing the door behind us. "Whew, safe at last" I thought. And on to orientation, complete with a tour of the facility, meet and greet with the facility administrators and charge nurses, detailed explanations of the medicare-dictated paperwork and maybe even an offer of a cup of coffee. Nope!


My supervisor was a bit frazzled, putting together the week's rehab schedule for not one, but two facilities, while also preparing for the day's medicare meeting. So what I got was the worst orientation I have EVER had, in any of the jobs that I've ever held, including temp positions, working as a registry therapist in Seattle or L.A. I was completely shocked that after 20 minutes of mostly useless crap that she said she had to head off to the meeting at that my schedule was here. She handed me a list of patients and their corresponding minutes, totalling 450 minutes of treatment, or something like that. To put this in perspective, there are a total of 480 minutes in an 8 hour day. So here I am, I don't even know where the restroom is (honestly) and I'm off to begin treating patients in a facility where I haven't been introduced to anyone yet, except our OT Debra, PTA Ambre and PT Aide Becky, and that was only coincidental as they all made their way through the office while I was there.


So needless to say, I freaked out! But I jumped in and began introducing myself to anyone (and everyone) I could. I knew that these folks were going to be the ones saving my bacon and I'd better get to know them. The goal: just get through the day.


Debra and Becky could smell my fear and stepped in to calm me down. For the next several days they did ask me if I was coming back the next day. I told them yes, mostly because I didn't want to be unemployed, but with each passing day and week it got easier. I really like the staff that I work with and things have settled in nicely now. I found the restroom. I know all of the staff by name (no easy feat) and also all of the residents. And we have some kooky residents, too! It's a crazy place that has a life of its own and now I'm part of that life. Good thing I'm a little kooky too. It's almost beginning to feel like a real job, not just a struggle for survival. And for the first time today, I thought that I might even miss some of the staff or residents when it's finally time for me to move on. Wow.


So this is the facility that initiated me as a traveler and it's a place that I will not soon forget. I'm sure its noise will echo in my mind for a long while.