Problems

A friend of mine just posted a link to an article that wrote about the top 10 most dangerous cities.

#1 on that list? Wilmington, DE.

That's right, the city I work in is currently ranked the worst city per capita for murder and sex crimes.

It doesn't help matters that I occasionally misread an address and go knocking on the wrong door. I should probably stop doing that.

There needs to be a Dear Abby for folks who work home care in the inner cities.

You know, Dear Abby, if I walk out of my patient's house and I see two drug dealers on the corner, what is the appropriate interchange? Do I politely say hello and keep on walking, or make like I don't see them, or do a really bad attempt at street talk to get down with my homeys?


Couple days ago I pulled into a parking lot to send a few emails. It was in that purgatory that was not city but not quite suburbs either. A man walking down the street yelled to his friend at the bus stop,


"Did you hear Michael's in jail?"

"What he did?



"Problems, man...."







Problems....



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Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Gotta Love My Patients

Best thing about being back to work?

I'll be honest. The paychecks. That's the only reason I went back.

Second best?

My patients.

For the most part, they're pretty nice. Mostly elderly. Often funny.

Sometimes without meaning to be.

Take, for instance, little Miss G.

She's roughly 212 years old. About 85lbs soaking wet. Hasn't been out of her bed in a dog's age and she's none too happy about it.

So when I saw her for the first time, I was doing the interview part of my evaluation, asking Miss G and her daughter a lot of questions about previous level of function, past medical history, that kind of thing.

The whole time I'm yakkin', Miss G kept saying,

"I got to get out dis bedddd!"

"Pleasssssse, help get me out dis bedddd!"

"I can't take dis bed no longer, won'tchou help me out?"


So I finally finished up with the questions. It was time to see how this old bird could move.

"OK, Miss G, are you ready to get up?"

"Awww honey, not today."














Image source: www.aare.edu.au


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In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller.

Come join the fun!

*************

Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.