Part of the job is to clean, in some places it is only clean. Once a week we are sent to clean certain homes. We are not professional cleaners, we are sent in to help those who cannot do it themselves to keep their homes hygienic.
This service costs the client about $5.00
If you're over 50 years old, you are entitled to this service. It mostly goes really smoothly, we clean to the best of our abilities, we have certain rules, the client must provide approved cleaning products, we are not to use bleach, we don't dust or do windows / curtains. Basically our feet are not allowed to leave the floor due to health and safety. We are not to get on hands and knees and scrub either.
There are clients, who do not speak English that well, that are highly demanding, they are able bodied and live in massive homes with 5+ bedrooms, 2 bathrooms with spa, enormous living area's. The policy is, you clean the bedroom they use, 1 bathroom that they use, 1 living area, kitchen. We hang out the washing, vacuum, mop.
These particular clients, will buy bleach and demand you use it and report when you say you are unable as it's against the rules, they demand that you clean their huge spa's, vacuum the carpet in rows like a lawn, get on your hands and knees and scrub the floor. It's NOT on. But they expect it, for their $5 They have huge families, Adult children and adult grandchildren lounging around, making a mess and demanding that "You pick it up" like you're some sort of slave.
They point and yell, Scrub scrub!! Get down and scrub! I refuse these clients. Most others refuse these clients. The client is then denied services and then they're bitching as to why no one will clean for them.
This is for real. Attitudes have to change towards care workers. Sometimes I am astounded that so much study goes into this career path and we're just cleaning. Anyone can clean! Just get a Police check and give someone a broom and anyone can do it.
I really don't think I can do this anymore. I'm exhausted from 12 months of really difficult clients, ones that have deteriorated dreadfully in that time.
If you think I'm just a moaning careworker who is UNcaring, think again. Put yourself in a careworkers shoes, careworker, AIN, PCA, RN, you name it, Aged Care is hard, emotional, underpaid and it's dirty.
We study for a long time and continually upgrade our skills, often at our own cost - to clean up shit, yes shit, literally shit. Along with every other bodily fluid.
My clients are in their own or Government subsidized homes, they deteriorated so much they are unable to turn on a tap, or make a cup of tea. They don't know who they are, or where they are, often they are walking around naked with poop and urine running down their legs onto the floor, then they paint the walls with it. In a nursing home, they at least have the necessary equipment to clean it up and sanitize it, in the community you are at the mercy of the families to buy the necessary items, and often they don't.
They wet the bed and even with continence aids they wet right through them, through plastic mattress protectors, right into the mattress. Every day - every single day. Why? Cause they are on their own from 5.00pm to 8.30am and are incapable of toileting themselves. They also yank all the linen down and pee on it.
Apart from the pee, we clean up masses of poop, you would not believe the amount. Funny that our extensive course to become qualified in Aged Care does not cover cleaning at all and that is really what most of our job consists of, cleaning up human waste.
I turn up at 7.40 to a house covered, painted in poop, and the client is covered in poop, the house reeks, the client is dry reaching from the stench, client refuses shower, trying to convince them gently that it would be 'wonderful to have a nice warm shower' (not to mention to wash all that poop out of their hair) But the client, yells, hits, throws things claiming they already had a shower so it takes great skill and patience to get them into the water.
I get this every single morning.
I then have an entire house to sanitize. Client is now clean and dressed but stressed and shrieking at me "Don't touch that!" to their soiled and sodden sheets, carpet, towels, mattress. I understand the disease! But it gets to anyone doing this job to be constantly berated even if it is by a person with dementia. Sometimes you just want to say "Fine, do it yourself" but you can't, you have to get it done, and you go way overtime just fighting off a person with dementia who wants to keep all the poop on the carpet.
The family does the shopping, I go to grab the disinfectant, to find that I am now provided with "no name household disinfectant" and frankly it's useless, I'm trying to protect my client and myself plus other careworkers from getting sick! But of course, cutting costs is the families priority.
Issues reported. Nothing happens.We then have the constant problem, with clients, of UTI's, urinary tract infection, because of all the poop all the time. Report made, family notified, again and again and again, it takes the family TWO MONTHS to take them to the Doctor for antibiotics! We as careworkers are NOT allowed to do it, because the family has voiced that they want to do it, we are not miracle workers. We are told "It's up to the family" and when the family take their sweet time to do it - nothing is done.
Then I have to get medication to my client, and breakfast and wash all the bedding and hang it out. The washing machine is tiny, it takes me 4 loads before it's finished. Did I mention I am allocated half an hour to do all this?
But wait, lets talk about breakfast, lunch and dinner of my many clients. When families insist they do the shopping, guess what? There is NEVER enough food (cost cutting), I have personally gone to clients who have NOTHING to eat in their fridges, freezers or pantry, Nothing, no, I am not exaggerating, there is nothing, it's all empty.
Report made. Nothing is done. I go and buy some bread and cheese just so my client can eat, I purchase out of my own money. I cannot morally give someone their medication and then turn my back and leave them hungry and confused.
Each day that I walk into a home full of urine and poop I am screaming in my head, not outloud, "Really? Do you really have to do this every single day?"
Instead I smile and groundhog day starts again. I know I am burning out, have a holiday I hear you say! Well it would be lovely if I could afford to. Firstly we are generally paid less than a checkout operator and we are ALL casual, so if we have a week off, we don't get paid. If a client dies or goes into a home, we don't get paid, we don't get new clients for ages either.
Families complain about facilities, "Is my mother/father/aunt/uncle sedated? Oh my that is wrong! Why have they not been changed? bla bla bla" Well frankly FAMILIES, you have no bloody idea. so lets get this straight right now.
a) If your loved one is sedated, it's because they are running amok and hurting people, I know they don't know any better but a sedative would have had to have been written up by a doctor and frankly, if it were ME, I would rather be sedated than hurting people or running around spreading shit everywhere. b) If your loved one has not been changed, it's because of the staff to patient ratio, give those workers a break, they will get to them, they just have not had time. They are all running around after patients who need to be sedated who are hurting people and spreading human waste everywhere. (yes, that is sarcasm) c) It's not that careworker staff don't care, they DO care, they just don't have the manpower to do everything at once, it's soooo easy for someone who has no clue to just waltz in and demand "Why is this not done? why is this not done?" walk a mile in their shoes and you'll soon find out. Give your careworkers a bit of slack, both in the facility and in the community.
Your fathers house smells like pee? - don't blame the careworker, it's because your father is incontinent and peeing on the carpet that you are too cheap to get professionally cleaned Being a careworker is hard with little to no praise and a poor hourly rate. They aren't your slave.
I am burnt out, there is nowhere for the careworker to turn, I have to find a different career. I started in this industry to make a difference, to make the life of others a bit easier, a bit happier. It's pretty obvious that I can't do any of these things.
Clean like you've never cleaned before.....
As expected, Ruby started regressing, looking for her small children (who were all now in their 50's) and she was upset that they were not home yet for dinner.
She can no longer turn the water on in the kitchen, she cannot boil the kettle, she cannot butter bread or toast, she can no longer eat soup from a bowl, but she can sip it from a cup.
Almost everyday she was voicing that she was in "Somebody else's house" and often thought she was in a 'motel' and was going to walk home. In these times I would actually take her for a little walk, and then back to the house, "here's home!" I'd say and she would once again be happy.
I would have liked a camera set up to see what she gets up to at night, bet swapping, often urinating on all the linen, unable to find the toilet or even recognize it. She is alone all night you see, from 5 PM until 8.30 AM.
Toilet signs and pictures no longer worked, for she could not comprehend what they were.
I often hear from co-workers who work in facilities, that their main job is to just clean up poop, and they are not kidding.
Just as a one year old might take poop out of their nappy (Diaper) and spread it around so does many people with forms of dementia.
As the days continued, we were greeted with a scene that included faeces actually rubbed into the walls, spread throughout the entire house, ground into the carpet, the bedding and all over Ruby. I cannot even describe the enormity of it all, and no matter how much you cleaned, the house still stunk like a public rest room. We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned, everyday we cleaned her whole house from top to bottom, scraping poop off every surface.
Ruby became quite sexually explicit, something she would never have been in her former true self, "I've got a surprise for you" she would say, and whip out both breasts, or pulling down her pants.
"Lets go get a bra on" I would say, and I'd put the straps over her shoulders "Now you put the girls in and I'll clip it up at the back"
Social outings became an opportunity to "Find a man" not just for her, but she kept trying to find one for ME - upon passing a group of construction workers she points and shouts "Look! There is a man for you!" I smile, and we keep walking.
"Thank you Ruby, but he's not quite my type"
We do this job for the love of people, certainly not for the money. Did you know a checkout operator earns more than an Aged Care Worker?
Someone once told me "You never get rich working with people in need" and yet we do it, because we love people and want the best quality of life possible for them.
We are criticized in the news for not giving enough 'quality' in our care, or that this one or that one was left too long with soiled clothes, believe me, it's easy to criticize from behind a desk, or a computer. We have very little time, little funding, and frankly, there is way more of the aging population who need care than there is care workers. We do our best. The majority of care workers strive to provide the best care possible with what little time and resources that they have. This is no different in the facilities or in the community.
The family is suffering......
Ruby's family are suffering, her daughter is worn out, she has a job and family too, and she is also trying to do her best for her mother, she and Ruby's son are mentally and physically exhausted, they don't know what to do.
They feel sad and humiliated. They are grieving. You see with Alzheimer's you loose your loved one three times.
1. When they are diagnosed.
2. When they no longer remember you.
3. When their actual body passes away.
Many Alzheimer's suffers are physically fine, it's their brain that doesn't work. They can go on for years, for decades, alive in their body, but their brains are not functioning. The loved one is gone and just a shell remains. It's cruel, it's horrendous, and families suffer so much. It is the living death.
Ruby falls asleep in the chair, her daughter stands at the window looking through at her much loved mother, tears are running down her cheeks. Her daughter has just been told that Ruby is beyond help at home and she must source a facility to provide care.
Ruby has Alzheimer's Part #3 (currently under construction, come back soon)
I have been a home and community care worker for Ruby for a year and a half. Ruby has Alzheimer's, she's 73 years old.
When I first started visiting her she didn't need much care, she needed company. Her husband had passed away 10 years before, and now that Ruby could no longer drive she loved going out, doing shopping and having a cuppa at a cafe.
Ruby was fun to be with, she had a few memory problems but that's to be expected, Her adult children love and support her, she is happy in her own home.
Within 4 months she needed help with her medication, and with breakfast. She still had excellent personal hygiene and could dress herself, but she suddenly couldn't remember how to switch the kettle on to boil, or use the microwave or even what day it is. So I started giving her the morning medication that was now kept in a locked box because a few times she had taken a few days worth.
She stayed quite stable but would berate herself "I'm so stupid!" "I just want to die!" "I want to be with Henry!" (Henry being her late husband). She didn't want to spend any money on food and eventually would accuse myself and her daughter of "forcing" her to spend money on food.
"Now Ruby, it's not your time to go yet, and Henry surely wouldn't want you to go before your time, nor would he want you to starve to death" ----- "I guess not" would be her reply.
We then went to the opposite end of the scale, she had visits from care workers and family no less than 3 times a day, but she would eat everything in the house when no one was there, maybe it was boredom, maybe she just forgot she had eaten, but whatever it was, we would turn up in the morning and there was literally maybe a jar of pickled onions in the whole house and nothing else.
She ate the frozen dinners - frozen! She was getting day and night confused, shopping became an everyday thing, we "hid" some food up in the pantry to distribute.
I also tried to take her to some daycare groups, once in there she would sit and pout, "I don't want to be with these poor old things!" - I would give her something of mine so she would know I wasn't going to just leave her there, just like a small child starting kindy, and it worked for a short time.
We come to these clients with big plans....
Myself, like many care workers, get to know (and love) their clients, we are in the field, we come up with great idea's to make a clients life more enjoyable, if only for the moment.
We often work unpaid overtime, and wake up in the middle of the night worrying about certain clients.
We have good idea's, but are usually never able to get them off the ground:
3 words prevent everything: LACK - OF - FUNDING.
Tight time schedules, in which we have to complete tasks, half an hour to get a client out of bed, shower, dress them, give them medication, wash any wet or soiled bedding, hang them on the line, make them breakfast, half an hour... yeah right.
We care, but we haven't got superpowers!
Like most people, we work to get paid, to support ourselves and our families. You can only do so much extra.
I had good idea's to help Ruby, I just couldn't get most of them in place.
I made Ruby a folder, with the help of her daughter "Ruby's life story" where I scanned old photographs from 50 years ago right up until the present day, there is a little story attached to each photo that we could read to her, as it was apparent she had forgotten how to read.
Back to Ruby's Story.......
A severe UTI effected Ruby's Alzheimer's irreversibly, as is what often happens.
First we started to turn up first thing in the morning and everything is wet, often 3 wet beds. Her own, the spare double bed and the spare single bed and of course, Ruby. We had no idea who she had so much urine, it wasn't just a small patch, each bed was completely saturated even through mattress protectors.
We had her in the biggest continence aids, she was wetting right through them in the night, and then bed hopping into the other two beds, we washed, aired, remade everything everyday. Then it just all stopped. As quickly as it started and a whole new problem came to the forefront.
A new problem.......
It started out with finding Ruby carrying around a lump of faeces. Yes, she was carrying a large lump of poop.
"What are you doing with that Ruby?"
"I don't know, I don't know where to put it"
"How about we put it in the toilet? Over here, lets put it in, flush it and wash your hands"
This escalated really quickly, I arrived at my usual time of 8.30 am, Ruby was naked when I walked in, covered in poop, head to toe. Oh dear.
But as a careworker, we just do what has to be done, gently encourage her to shower, clean up the mess, but I could not find her clothes.... Ruby was showered and cleaned, I helped her dress, started the washing machine and started on the sheets, still looking for her night clothes.
Ruby kept going outside, it was really sunny and getting hotter by the minute, she came in and said "Nope, it's not done yet"
She has a large yard with lots of tree's and a beautiful garden, curious I wandered out to see what was "not done yet" and I found, on the newly mowed grass, her soiled night clothes, laid perfectly flat, baking in the Summer sun. "Don't touch them! They're not done yet!"
"It's OK Ruby, lets take them in, we can wash them, we can clean them" - Ruby raises her eyebrows not quite believing me.
My heart truly goes out to Ruby, and I wish I could put my hands up and stop this bast**d of a disease in it's tracks. I don't want it to consume this dear sweet woman, but I know it will. I've seen it all before.
