I just received a call from a co-worker in the company where I previously worked. She was working at a different location but under the same company. Similar to many of the phone calls I get from my EX-colleagues (I stress EX), this young lady asked if I would mind covering a shift for her on Sunday at her group home location. For the past month, I have been politely telling them, "Oh I'm very sorry I can't do that as I'm no longer an employee of DSN (acronym for Developmental Services of Nebraska)." They will then go, "awww... Why did you stop working?". I'll repeat the same phrase, "I am furthering my studies in Western Michigan and I'm going back to my home country for a holiday." They will wish me best of luck in my future endeavors, I would say I hope they find a replacement, and we hang up. I get at least two of these calls a week even though I've stopped working for more than a month now. I wish they would just update the call list so that everyone knows I'm not working anymore. LoL
Some of you may think it odd that my colleagues didn't know that I stopped working. Well, my company, DSN is a company that provides direct support for individuals who are mentally disabled in group home settings. There are many group homes in the state, with approximately 500 employees. That's why not everyone will know that I left the company.
I was working as a direct support professional (sounds nice right? VERY PROFESSIONAL). I support individuals in making daily choices and life decisions. That's the official job description. Really, it's a little more complicated than that.
By "support" in the job description, it means you:
1) Clean up after individuals who are either unable or just do not want to clean up after themselves - This means that you pick up shit all over the facility if someone is having manic episodes and is unable to stop the urge to dig into his/her (yes it could be a HER) rectum (basically beyond the anus), and throws it anywhere, at anything, at.... ANYONE --> YOU!
2) Weigh out and bear the consequences of encouraging an individual to do/try to do something that they will learn and benefit from be it right away or in the long run. This means you have to be tactful in determining the right choice of words, the right time, around the right people. One bad approach and the individual might start a behavior like engaging in property destruction, physically aggressive against peers or staff, elopement, or even beating the crap out of you.
3) STRICTLY NO DISCUSSION or even remotely mentioning anything about Dogs around an individual who has difficulty restraining himself from having sexual intercourse with the K9s, and would jump at every opportunity to do so when left unattended alone. Obviously, bringing the individual to the parks means putting yourself and the individual in a high risk situation.
Well those are just three of my own "unofficial" definition of "support" in the job description. There are many instances where u have to actually restrain a person when he/she is doing more harm to him/herself or others (I got hurt twice during restraints).
Many friends tell me I'm insane to be having this job. My mother and my ex-female companion
got so worried (after my nose got disfigured) that they've both asked me to resign a couple of times - Obviously, they were furious and argued non-stop when I wouldn't resign. I loved my job. It was never boring. Staying WAAAYYYY overtime (my record was leaving 14 hours later than I was scheduled to leave), getting physical into administering restraints, chasing an individual who has run away from the group home under the snowstorm, getting in between two huge and angry individuals to stop a fight, calling the cops to escort an individual to a detention facility, watch the ambulance, the fire engine, and cops arrive together at the group home (all the chaos and confusion!), and so much more!!! How can it ever be boring! I had to be alert all the time, be ready to duck from a punch, to calm a raging individual, avoid being covered in bleach! It kept my adrenaline running! I LOVED it!
The thing I appreciate most about my job, is the opportunity for me to be humbled. I went into the job hoping to learn different coping skills, different intervention strategies, different techniques etc... my goal was to LEARN LEARN LEARN SKILLS, which I did! But I realized that God put me there for reasons bigger than I ever anticipated. Lessons that have put me in silence. That's right.
Silence.
Working this job, I came to know many individuals with disabilities. One particular individual plays with his feces, throws them at myself and other staff, walks around all day non-stop when he goes through manic stages with both his hands swinging up and down, and drool dripping from his lips all the time. His few limited response when you speak with him would be: "I dunno I dunno I dunno!!" "What day is it today?" "I'm going to Paul's house!". If he ever said anything else, you would jump for joy and mark it down as a rare occasion. Like some individuals, he needs to be fed or he would stick in spoon after spoon of food, choke, drink a lot of water only to choke again. He needs to be showered, dressed and put into diapers. He wets his bed, undresses every 2 minutes at times just to be naked, and walks around trying to hit other disabled individuals who would flare at him (this makes him happy). He has been having this condition (severe bipolar disorder) since he was 14. When I was working with him, he was my age - 24. The last diagnosis says that he is slowly dying. Doctors say he will not have many years ahead.
This individual, like many other individuals I support, may never feel the warmth of an embrace by another person, may never feel the love of a significant other, a family member. He may never have the satisfaction of accomplishing something. Of, enjoying the simple pleasures in life, of slowly enjoying ice-cream, of savoring a truffle melting in his mouth, of .... being a creation of God(I struggle heavily with that issue. I don't understand it. Am wrestling with it). He can only find amusement in irritating another individual. The struggles he faces daily, to put on a shirt, to have to walk around with a wet diaper, to suffer from constipation that when feces do come out occasionally without him digging for it, it is literally the size of a coke can, and it drops down on the floor with a loud thud (it is that hard). When it doesn't come out... he'll feel so uneasy with all the food he stuffed into his body, stuck... not being able to exit the system. That's when he starts digging in his anus, and I've seen him dig to the point where his tissue was torn and there's blood all over. I have, with other staff helped hold him firm as the doctor sticks medical instruments into his anus. We held him down, kept his feet spread and just watched him scream, watched him cry...
At those moments, my anxieties, my worries go away. I would be put yes.... put to silence... humbled... and everything being about ME ME ME would become less and less significant. I'd be reminded of how blessed, how fortunate I am. My spirit cries out in compassion for him. Cleaning up after him, being hit in the face countless times a day by his feces soiled hands when I am not alert, having to change diapers, to shower and to put on clean clothes for him several times a day just was not boring, was not tiring, not frustrating or stressing. It was a little something, it was the minimal comfort for the time being, it was a little love I can pour out to him, the least I could do as a fellow human, as a child of a compassionate and loving God.
Do we think that our problems are everything? Think that we're unfortunate, illtreated? We complain about people Bi***ing about us at the work place, our boss picking on us ALL THE TIME! We compare the purchasing power of Malaysians and the United states, and how we hardly earn enough to BUY BUY BUY. Have we considered the less fortunate? Have we been too full, too loud of ourselves that we've drowned out the voices of others around us? How often have we been
silent?
