Boy, what a difference! I had my first care conference at exactly 3 weeks of residency. We (my husband and I) met with the social worker, physical therapist, chaplain, and nurse manager to discuss my care. They covered every aspect of my care: building a comprehensive and detailed care plan, how I was socializing, the spiritual portion of my life, recreation opportunities, how I'm doing physically, and what do I need going forward. Not once did they mention money. Not once did they verbally bash on me.
Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry." Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?
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