I've had the worst week, I actually can't remember the last time I cried this much.
After last Wednesday, it took a few days for things to get back to normal. Mum and Dad weren't talking to me for a number of days, I almost had to eat my weight in food, daily, just to give them a little confidence in me, that I could do this. Saturday morning the doctor rang, thank god Mum and I were alone at my Aunties. My doctor called to tell me that things were looking worrisome, and she didn't want to give me the go ahead to go to the Philippines. I begged, and cried and told her she wouldn't understand what it would do to me if she didn't let me go, I tried everything to convince her, I told her how much I was eating, how hard I was trying, how hard I would try. She spoke to Mum for a while, while I sobbed in my Aunties arms, crying that it wasn't fair, that even when I do try "I end up right back here", so what is the point?! My Auntie sat there and cried with me, holding my hand and comforting me. When Mum got off the phone, we all had a big cry and discussed a plan, I was to see my doctor on Monday, and if nothing had improved it was a definite no. We went to McDonalds and got a McFlurry, and I ate everything Mum put in front of me, no matter how big I thought it was, determined to prove to my doctor I could do it.
Sunday at work, I had a total break down. I was serving breakfast to the residents and got someone's wrong, which sounds small and insignificant but to me, was just too much, I spent the rest of the day a total mess, unable to deal with anything. The only thing that cheered me up was getting my hair cut, which was so lovely. My hair has been so dead and dry and really needed a good style.
Monday morning, I ate the biggest breakfast I've ever consumed, went off to the doctors and waited to find out my fate. I stepped on the scale, I gained 500g. My blood pressure was still terrible and my blood test results came back with concerns. My Doctor requested to see my again on Friday and advised me that if I chose to go at this point it will be against medical advice. Mum, my Doctor and I, had a really good chat about how not going could impact me psychologically, and despite my doctor not agreeing it was a good idea, Mum was on board with sending me, realising how dire the consequences could be if she didn't. After my doctors appointment I had McDonalds for lunch with Mum and an Iced Latte with Sugar syrup (go me).
Today I had work. There is a resident at work we avoid caring for as much as possible, only ever entering her room to serve or collect her meals/trays. She's very aggressive and the facility has a lot of problems with her. She had complained to me that no one was collecting her trays (doesn't surprise me seeing as everyone is terrified of her), I reassured her that I would collect her tray. Later after dinner, I knocked on her door to do so. From the moment she opened her door, she started abusing me "you knocked far too loud, scared the fuck out of me, what is wrong with you", I apologised profusely whilst collecting her tray, and on my way out she yelled at me that I was "a little bitch, get out", pushing me out of the room and slamming the door in my face. I stood there for a while in shock, having never been treated that was before. I went back to the nurses station and documented it in her behavioural profile, tears running down my face. The EN came to ask me a question and noticed I was upset, at this point I wasn't just sobbing, I was half way through another breakdown. They had to write out an incident report and let the manager know, because she had manhandled me, and because I was clearly upset by the situation. I sat on the bathroom floor after debrief with the RN and EN, both who were so kind to me and very apologetic I'd encountered this situation, and cried before going on break and taking myself through some mindfulness. I was looking through her behavioural charting and I know this isn't the first time this has happened, and by the looks of it, I hate to say so, but she's a bit of a nut-case. On the way home, I cried some more with Mum, who wanted me to consider leaving the job. Mum's worried, as am I, because I'm still not emotionally stable, and being called something so awful, had me very down. That and obviously no one deserves to go to work and be physically abused by anyone. But for the moment I'm happy to move forward from the incident (after a good cry in bed tonight), because I do love my job. Please don't get me wrong, 95% of the residents, I adore, I absolutely love them, one told me how dearly she loved me today, grasping my face with her hands, another forced me to take chocolates from her, as thanks for being so kind. I've been given so many compliments, and I've loved the time I've spent with my residents. 5% of them however are awful, in most cases it's due to disease and I can accept that, but this woman had no reason to treat me the way she did and I shouldn't have to feel like that in a job I like, no matter how much I'm getting paid.
Anyway, I'm off to bed now. 3 days until I leave, I'm dreading it. No more work for the week, after working the last 7/9 days. 1 more assignment left, send help. Then a good nap is due tomorrow afternoon, cannot wait.
