35 Years Ago Today

 Art is by Mary from WorshipInk in Huntsville, Alabama. 

On October 30th, 1991, I was in 8th grade at a Baptist Christian school, even though I was growing up in a Greek Orthodox family. It was my first year outside of public schools, and I was getting used to the culture shock of church services with angry preachers speaking English instead of chanting and rituals mostly in Greek. On that day, I did the thing that evangelicals like my school believed to be the most important decision of one’s life, but that my family’s denomination didn’t believe in or ever talk about- I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior. 

Even though my parents saw my decision as unnecessary because I’d been baptized as an infant, they still saw it as me leaving their church. It would cause animosity between my mother and I for decades, even though she was the adult who enrolled me in that school. 

Over the next two years, I accepted Christ 85 more times, because our preachers at school had a propensity to convince you that you “weren’t really saved”. So I would go on a roller coaster of getting saved again and again. I know I did it 86 times, because I kept a diary. However, 10/30/1991 was the first time, so it’s the only anniversary I keep. 

Do I still believe in the same thing I did at age 13? No. I’m no atheist though. I’ll get into the evolution of my beliefs later. (Maybe). Some think I shouldn’t commemorate this “anniversary” because what they did at that school was essentially abuse. However, I still do, because it’s a huge part of my story. Our hardships and trauma shape us. 

Mom Daughter Lunch Date

I drove to San Marcos yesterday to take Anna to lunch. The hair is green now!  It’s a part of her Halloween costume. She told me she’s going brown again after Halloween. 

After lunch, I went back to her place and got to visit the black cat formerly known as Jordan. A while back, Anna asked me if she could have him. She was going to take Alex, but changed her mind and wanted Jordan because he is young, only about 18 months old. She then renamed him Tommy, because her roommate’s cat is Jerry. She kind of needed a pet for her mental health, and her dad and stepmom wouldn’t let her have one of theirs. I paid her pet deposit and bought her all the supplies. 

Here’s Tom duking it out with Jerry. 

Here’s a flashback picture of Anna at age 5. Facebook said this picture was posted 14 years ago today. It must have been the first day cold enough for a jacket and gloves. 

 

Kid Choking

 I just wanted to take a minute to try and raise more awareness about the story going viral right now. An 8 year old girl choked to death at school six months ago, and her parents are now exposing the surveillance footage from the school. I think they waited this long, because the Texas Rangers were investigating. This is the clip I can find that best describes what happened in the footage, but it doesn’t show all the footage. 

When I worked with kids in Arizona 25 years ago, I had a one year old toddler choke on a piece of a toy that broke off in his mouth. I didn’t do the Heimlich on him. I held him semi upside down and hit his back twice. The piece of toy came flying out. When I picked him up to give him the back thrusts, I sort of left my body for a whole minute. I was very dissociated but still hit his back. I thought I would do it wrong. 

One misconception about choking is that they “can’t cough”. They can!  The only benefit of the doubt that I would give that staff member based on that video is that she thought a person can’t cough if they’re choking. 

That video didn’t show all the footage. Adrian also went up to 3-4 other lunchroom staff members. Their body language said to me that they thought she was misbehaving. They all seemed like they didn’t give a damn and even seemed sort of abusive. The first staff member sort of pushed her towards the trash can. It looked bad to me. I saw a comment online that said “They hated her.”  Maybe 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

Adrian Thompson was 8 years old when she died six months ago. At the time of her death, she had a 3 month old baby brother who is now 9 months old.  Her dad posted a TikTok of her meeting him for the first time. She was very gentle, loving, and crying happy tears. I can’t find it now, but here is one from her mom. 😢 

I just wanted to say, that someone who is choking might be able to cough. If they are, then give them back thrusts. If that fails, Do the Heimlich maneuver. If it’s a toddler that you can flip upside down, then do that. 

Another thing I wanted to say is to please have a more positive view of the kids in your care, whether they are your own or you’re working with them. Do not always assume bad intent. Get yourself onto their level and meet their needs. Anticipate their needs. Get rid of thoughts that they might be “testing your limits” or “manipulating you”. Ask yourself what they might need that they aren’t getting. It just seems to me that these staff members at Velma Penny Elementary School were hateful towards the kids and didn’t care. 

RIP Adrian. 

Swiffer Fun and Dreading Losses

This is the swiffer pad after I mopped half of the grouphome with it.

Looking at how dirty the pad is is the funnest part of swiffer-ing imo.  

I replaced the pad and did the long hall and their bathroom. The second pad wasn’t this dirty after that -

I would say the second pad was 75% as dirty as this one. 

Tonight, I just grabbed all the throw blankets around the living room, the kitchen towels and potholders and washed them all in one load, with hot water.  A lot of them had crusty old food. 

It just seems like no one ever cleans or does anything here. And night staff is generally supposed to. So I try to.  

The supervisor here lost her husband unexpectedly, and she blames energy drinks. If she sees you with one, she’ll start preaching against them. She claims he drank five or six of them a day. Holy crap.  That’s $400-$500 a month. Plus, he paid with his life. ☹️ I only have one a day at most and almost never finish the can. For this reason I only get the small cans. She didn’t say what size cans he’d get. Still I try not to let her see me with one, because losing her husband was obviously very traumatic. Even if I throw my can away, I bury it with other trash.  Or I wrap it in toilet paper like it’s a sanitary napkin. It really must suck to lose your spouse.  People warn women all the time to “have a plan”  and I do- I have five or six backup plans that ironically, those same people who give that advice wouldn’t approve of.  But what would I do with the extreme sadness that would come over me if I lost Kevin?  The “have a plan” advice is usually only financial, not regarding grief. I can’t go to therapy, obviously.  I just have to think about it starting now, even if it doesn’t happen for decades still.  I can’t imagine trying to go to grief counseling if I lost Kevin and the therapist got judgy with me for marrying my supervisor.  I would lose my mind.  My supervisor’s husband died only a year ago (maybe less, I don’t know exactly when)  I can imagine you never get over it.  

Honestly, I would probably buy a van and do my own little personal tour of the lower 48 and do my side jobs, the retail apps. One of the apps, iVueit, posted on their facebook page a couple who is RVing across the country and doing iVueit along the way. That’s nice!!!!  Seeing new places is very healing, honestly. But- I wouldn’t take off if I had grandchildren by then. I’d stick around for them. Or, I’d make the trip not as long as if I didn’t have grandkids yet. 

Maybe I’d go in one direction, then come back and do grandma stuff then take off in another direction, come back for grandma stuff again, etc. If I make it to all 48 states, I’ll then book two cruises- Hawaii and Alaska. 

Of course, I might die before Kevin, but statistically, he will. 

Another loss that I am dreading- who I’m most likely not going to die first- is my cat Alex. Alex is getting old and just acts like the cat version of a 100 year old man. I am going to lose my shit when he dies. He was a very good therapy cat when I was going through the worst time of my life.  He’s very loyal. I was cuddling with him today, and a feeling of dread came over me. I probably only have a year or two left with him honestly. When Anna graduates from college in 2029, he’ll probably already be gone. 

Which reminds me, I have to ask Anna her preference of notification if I find myself having to euthanize him. Does she want to know beforehand so she can say goodbye, or would she prefer me just telling her after the fact?  We haven’t had that conversation. I dread so much about loss. 

Cleaning House

 I brought my own Clorox wipes to work just to wipe down surfaces. The ladies at the last house I worked at were amazing at housework, so that house was immaculate. These guys are terrible at it, and the house is a lot dirtier than I thought. The house supervisor told me that housekeepers make more than us, so she’s not doing any of it. I don’t know her medical history, but she also appears to have lipedema in her legs, so she probably can’t do it either.  The Clorox wipes come up really nasty. Last night, I looked at the mop situation. I cleaned out the mop bucket, but the mop itself was horrendous.  Some mop heads can snap off and go into the laundry. Not this one. So when she came in, I asked if I could bring my swiffer wet jet from home. She told me not to and that she would order one for the house. She ordered it with the grocery pick up. I’m not going to do a spring cleaning, but one thing per night will really help. 

Whenever I worked graveyard shift in the past, caring for people who were sleeping, I was always expected to do a lot of cleaning. These people don’t even want to stay awake at work. I’ve been made to scrub baseboards in an already clean place before, and for less per hour.  BUT, I do not let it show that I think they have audacity, and for that, they all really like me. 👍🏾 

Not Believable

 If I ever want to be in the mood to write again, I need to spill here about the two things that the therapist didn’t believe me about. 

One of them was regarding the pressure from my extended family when I was younger. I basically started working with kids when I was very young, because the pressure on me at the time was to NOT get married or have kids of my own and to pursue only career and education only. This was in contradiction to their mantras that no one would ever hire me, but the pressure was still there. I have 20 first cousins, and ten of them never married or had kids.  That’s evidence that I’m telling it accurately  

The problem that the therapist had with this is that most other women get pressured from society TO get married and have kids. In her eyes, someone experiencing the opposite is probably either lying or delusional. But, I stand by my past. The only thing that I can probably agree with now that I didn’t see at the time was that maybe it was because of my young age at the time?  However, age was rarely brought up. The pressure on me was “don’t”. Not, “maybe someday” 

 

The other thing had to do with the year I graduated from college. When I explained that I could not find a job upon finishing my degree, she assumed it was during the pandemic. This would fit her political narrative probably. I said no, it was before the pandemic. She gave me this face: 🤨 and said “huh!”

I can’t remember if I told her that 2020 was my highest earning year ever, but if I did, that probably pissed her off too. I must not have, because she would have attributed that to my degree when it had nothing to do with it. It was all the apps that I do on the side now. They paid hella good in 2020. Anyone can sign up for that, and no one cares about your degree. 

Therapists not believing my story doesn’t mean that I can’t write it down. Some of the best writing that I’ve consumed in the last few years have been about subcultures that have nothing to do with any of the subcultures I have lived in. For instance, the HBO series “Big Love” with Bill Paxton. I loved the job they did on that writing. But I have only come across a polygamist family in real life once before, when I attended high school with the youngest daughter of one. I did not get angry at the show and write them a letter saying, “I’ve never been expected to marry a man with two wives already and seven kids, therefore it isn’t realistic!”  

It’s realistic in some parts of the country. It shows a lot of strength and maturity when one is able to understand that their experiences don’t apply to EVERYONE.  

Work Update

 Tonight will be my third night working at this men’s group home, affiliated with the same company. On my last day at the ladies’ house, they all gave me a hug and were not too happy about me being transferred. That makes me feel good. 

At this house, the only other staff member besides me is the house supervisor. If I hadn’t been transferred, she’d have to be here 24/7. She’s in her 70’s and kind of unhinged, but more on that later. Staff members are leaving this company for the following reason:

This past summer, right before I got this job and moved out here, this particular group of group homes was owned by a different company. My company bought them all in either May or June. The company I’m working for enacted a new rule that they must do hourly bed checks on the group home residents. You can’t lie about doing these checks, either. You have to log in to the desk top computer in the house and click on each client name and click asleep, awake, on leave, or hospitalized. There’s even a way to do it on your phone. Each check in is time stamped to make sure you did it every hour. The other staff members are appalled at this. I’m appalled at them being appalled. I just think it’s the bare minimum. 

There were two ladies at this house who have quit over this new rule. So the house supervisor and I are basically just relieving each other every 12 hours. My regular schedule is Monday through Friday 8pm until 8am, but she also said I can work weekends if I want. She also insisted she didn’t want me getting burned out because she needs me. So I told her that my husband is going to be out of town this weekend. His job goes to Louisiana every three months for an inventory account. I said I would work this weekend since he’ll be gone, but next weekend I’ll take off. There is a floater that can come in. She was happy with that, but appeared to think that my husband going out of town means he’s cheating on me lol. That was just the impression I got from her reactions to “He’s going out of town.”  I told her that I used to work there too, and I also went to Louisiana every three months. She seemed ok with that explanation. When I worked there, there was a coworker whose wife thought he was cheating when we were in Louisiana. It was a bit of a shit show. She had him on “locate my family” app, and the motel we stayed at had a tavern in the same parking lot/strip mall. She thought he was there drinking all night. 

But back to this men’s home. 

In some ways, it’s easier and in some ways, it’s not. When I get there at 8:00 am they’re all turning in for the night. Most of them lay awake in bed for over an hour. They wake up between 5:45-6:15, which is earlier than the ladies. They have fewer medications, and none of them need help showering or grooming. They do all the same household chores as the ladies’ home, but they don’t do as good of a job as the ladies. One of them has the same first name as a celebrity, and I started calling him the full name of that celebrity. He’s all over that. 

So all I do is clock in at 8pm, see them all off to bed, tidy up a bit and do the hourly bed checks. Then only really deal with them the last two hours. I have needed to slow a couple of them down with medications- they seem to want to hurry up and take their meds too quickly, and since they’re all new to me and I haven’t memorized their medication lists, I am insisting on giving them one pill at a time until I mark it in the computer. 

So all in all, it’s very chill. I like doing this kind of work much better than I liked doing home care. I didn’t think I would, either. Taking care of elderly in their homes is often as physically taxing as caring for a baby or toddler (even harder actually, because babies and toddlers are easier to lift and don’t die).  Working in a group home like this with adults who have IDD feels more like caring for tweens or teens. It’s not physically taxing at all, you just have to constantly “remind”. And since they’re actually adults, you don’t have to impose arbitrary rules on them like you might with older kids. That makes it easier on everyone. 

I also never worked 84 hours a week with elderly in their homes. Not sure I’d want to!