Why I Wouldn’t Wish My Job On My Worst Enemy

This was it, this was the beginning of the rest of my life. I know that sounds cliche, but my best friend and I had just signed up for a course which would allow us to get our C.N.A. It was the beginning of both of our medical careers. Something that was deeply rooted in not only our friendship but also our lifelong goals.I had been dreaming about becoming a doctor since I was a little girl, and this was my first major step in the right direction.  

Fast forward to the morning of June 6th, 2016 and we sat down in a small room with limited lighting, two instructors, two books, our first stethoscope/BP Cuff, and clean, crisp, cheap, new scrubs. Little did we know what we had actually signed up for.

For those of you who don’t know, C.N.A stands for “Certified Nursing Assistant.” Simply put, we do everything nurses don’t “want” to do, or have the time do. For the most part, people recognize as the people who “take care of old people” or, my all-time favorite “professional butt wipers”. While yes, this is a part of my job I can assure you it is not the worst part; but we’ll get into that a little bit later. In order to guarantee the best understanding of what a day in the life of a C.N.A is really like, it’s best that I explain the type of work that I do, and what is expected of me as a caregiver.

I have worked in a relatively small Assisted Living Facility for about a year and a half. What this means is that I am there to aid those who can no longer live on their own.While the facility itself is not listed as a purely geriatric facility, the majority of those I look after are those from the Greatest Generation i.e those born in the 1920’s-1940’s. Furthermore, each individual that I look after is in need of different levels of assistance, and in some cases simply needs a watchful eye. On a day to day basis I’m required to help those in need of assistance with their ADL’s (activities of daily life), clean the facility, as well as give meals and pass meds.

While this may not seem like it’s not all that much to handle (and most days it’s not), it’s only the baseline of what it’s like to have this job. I must preface that I fervently love what I do and it only reaffirms that I am indeed in the right field. However, this job is one of the most tolling that anyone could ever have. It’s physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing. Being a C.N.A requires me to constantly be alert and aware of my surroundings and that of twenty other people. I must always be on my toes and be prepared for anything, and at times have the strength to lift an adult’s body weight. However, this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg. The most tolling part of the job, and what I genuinely believed has aged me the most, are the emotions that naturally come with the job. This is something that no one can prepare you for, no matter how hard they try.

In most every course it’s recommended that you attempt to emotionally distance yourself from those you take care of, simply because a great deal of those you will be taking care of are those near the end of their lives. Easier said than done — as C.N.A’s we often spend the most time with these people in their most vulnerable moments, and unless you happen to be some emotionless robot it’s near impossible to not grow emotionally attached. This means plenty of hard nights. In the 18 months that I have worked as a C.N.A, I have lost upwards of 15 people and performed post-mortem care on two. Almost all these individuals I knew well and had taken care of for some period of time. As someone who had a very limited interaction with death prior to this job, I really threw myself into the deep end of the pool taking on these responsibilities. Often those who have passed have passed from complications due to dementia, a slow and degenerative disease, that slowly eats away at the brain.

I will always distinctly remember the day that it clicked in my head how difficult watching this process was going to be. I had already had a rough day at school, and we had two residents actively dying. I had to assist the nurse that was working with me in changing one our residents who was in this process of passing. When we turned her to her side to remove the brief out from underneath her, she released the most blood-curdling scream. It was a sound I could never forget, and it took everything in me to hold back my tears. The second I got home I completely broke down. I cried for hours. I genuinely did not know if I could handle the job anymore. I was not prepared to see the people I love die right before my eyes, and not be able to help them at all. It’s heart wrenching, and unavoidable. The second time I had a breakdown that bad was much later in my career, though significantly worse. It was the first time that I had truly blamed myself for the situation, though I have overcome those emotions. At the time I was terrified that one of my favorite people on planet earth was going to die because of circumstances that were out of my control. All of this is a lot to handle for an 18-year-old, who, like any other person, constantly has things going on outside of my job. I was determined to stick with this job though, despite how difficult it might be emotionally. There is a slightly humbling feeling being there for those you love towards the end of their lives, even if it’s just to ensure their comfort. 

Despite the emotional toll that death, dementia, and psychotic breaks(I’ve had my fair share of dealings with those too) takes, I wouldn’t do anything differently. There is nothing like knowing that every day I come in to work, I’m truly making a difference in people’s lives. There is no feeling comparable to that of learning these peoples stories, and often being there for them when no one else is. My residents have slowly but surely become my favorite people to have walked this planet, so much so that I spent my 18th birthday with them. It’s nearly impossible to describe the positive impact that my residents have had on my life. While this may make my job in the long term more difficult, it’s like my boss always says: “It’s hard to feel bad, when you’re helping people.”