“How has being a CNA changed your views about you becoming an elderly person one day?”
I’m not a young man. I’ve passed the stage of life when the realization sets in that none of us gets out of this thing alive. Unless I live to the ripe old age of one hundred and ten, then I’m definitely in the “gray” zone, just past middle age. Not old, but definitely older. I’m cool with it. I’ve accepted it. Being a department supervisor, and a CNA, at a nursing home has helped me to do that. Working with our residents and seeing how they live, and what they go through, has given me insights into aging that I would’ve never seen in another profession.
When you’re a kid, anyone over thirty is ancient. You evolve into a teenager and the thirty-somethings are kinda cool, but the forty year olds are ancient. As you creep towards your own forties, you finally start to realize that age is all relative. Time brings experiences. Our experiences affect who we are, and will become. As a child, we see the elderly as alien beings. Beings not to be trusted, even avoided. We don’t understand them, and we won’t believe that they understand us. The latter belief couldn’t be farther from the truth. They not only understand us, they WERE us.
When you work closely with the elderly, you learn that they have a lot in common with children. They trust you to care for them because they need to. They ask a lot of questions. Sometimes because they forget, or sometimes they just need reassurance. They are fragile and need help with even the simplest things. Walking, talking and eating are more difficult and they need you to help them through it. Comparing them to children isn’t belittling them. It’s only the first step in making the connection to the bigger reality. We are them. They are our next step in life. They are us.
I have had the honor of meeting many interesting people as a CNA. They come from all kinds of backgrounds and parts of the country. One is a veteran of the U.S. Navy and a Korean War veteran. One is a retired teacher, with forty years of education experience. Another woman worked in factories during World War Two. They are displaced yankees, and home grown Southerners. Midwestern folks from the corn belt, and men and women from both the coasts. They talk of their families and pasts. They remember their losses and their successes. The good times and the bad come back in flashes and long remembrances alike. Their lives are like an open book, only the pages and chapters lie scattered about the room. It takes time and patience to pick them all up and to learn from them. When we takethe time to listen, and care enough to sort it out, we can see ourselves in each and every one of their stories.
As caregivers, we sometimes get lost in the work of the day. Baths, hair care and hygiene. Meals, dressing, nail care, activities and bathroom trips can overwhelm us and blind us to the actual person that sits before us. They were children once, just as we were. They raised families, fought in our nation’s wars, and helped build our countries roads, buildings and bridges. They taught our children in school, and in Sunday school. They were our neighbors, our friends, our parents and grandparents. Never lose sight of the fact that who you are today is who you will be tomorrow. As a CNA I’ve learned that the people we care for are who we are going to be later in life. All of their physical and mental issues could be ours some day. I may need someone to feed me. Someone to put me to bed, to dress me, and to take care of me in every way. I’m okay with that, if the need arises. The single most important thing I will want in my caregiver is the ability to see me as a person, just like them. Never look through me. Never see me as just a job. Care about me. That’s what the real caregivers do.
Kevin Stone
April 2020
Rolling Stones 