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The Presence of the Past
This week has seen several anniversaries. Some are significant only for the serpent and some for the wider world
It is just over a year now since the Las Vegas Loser unleashed his reign of terror on the unsuspecting people partying at a country music concert. It is interesting to see how this anniversary is observed but scariest of all is keeping fingers crossed that the Devil’s TrumPet does not pay too much attention lest he put both his hooves and those tiny hands in that petty potty little mouth of his. Maybe he has been kept so busy bitching about Dr Christine Ford that the anniversary will pass unnoticed on his calendar
Maybe he is saving his powder for December and the anniversary of the Sandy Hook school massacre.
But back in Izzieland, other days and dates have been drifting into mind
Wednesday 3rd October 2012 began as just another normal day at the Lair. It was the last day of the serpent’s working week starting at 7am and finishing at 1pm and not returning again until 3pm the following Saturday.
I used to call it St Salazar’s Sanatorium for Superannuated Sorcerers which is just an arty farty name for what Muggles would call a nursing home.
The previous month has been distinguished by a lack of nastiness from the manager due mainly to her absence.
But she still had her minions doing her dirty work and that Wednesday morning was no exception.
First business of the day is the morning handover where the registered nurse tells the staff what has happened during the last shift and runs down a list of relevant information concerning the residents that we needed to know for the day. Oh and the other newly added feature - how many staff were missing and how their work was going to be divided out amongst those of us who had bothered to turn up.
One little item concerned Mr X who was found not to be wearing his special hip protecting underwear which is basically a normal pair of undies with padding on the sides. Such garments are designed as shock absorbers and used for some people who were falls risks. That’s of course only if their families pay for them.
This little remark was directed at me since they knew that I had showered him the morning before and I knew that they knew it too.
I replied that while I don’t know what happened after I left at 1pm, I do know that I had most definitely put them on. I had actually gone to the laundry to get a pair since there were none in his room.
So I told this woman that I could prove I put them on because I asked Sue in the laundry who gave them to me and later Pauline helped me walk him from the toilet to the dining room for breakfast. So if you were really interested in pursuing the truth, you could simply ask them.
She got a bit defensive and replied along the lines.
“OK. OK. No need to get your knickers in a knot. We were just reminding you all”
To which I replied along the lines
“Well I am getting sick and tired of the never ending baseless accusations against me.
Next time you play that game you can at least try use your brains and find something for which I could not possibly find witnesses
The way things are going around here, it looks like I will have to bring in a camera and film everything that I do.”
What was particularly galling is that this nurse had a little pet Princess who had a habit of never putting on resident’s hip protectors. A woman had fallen and ended up in hospital a few months previously. One that she had been responsible for and not a word was said about it.
Little Miss Princess used to sit people on the side of the bed to wash them using a bowl because it is quicker than a shower. In one hand she would have a flannel and in the other her iPhone and did not think twice of chatting to her friends on her phone while she was supposed to be working.
These are old and weak people and they are often not strong enough to sit up too long without any back support. Someone with half a heart or half a brain would sit them in a chair which is much safer.
Needless to say, this woman toppled over and fell on the floor and ended up in hospital with various fractures.
Not only did Princess leave a trail of destruction behind her, just disappear and reappear and hope her workload would get done in her absence but any time the rest of us complained about her laziness and dangerous work practices nothing would be done about her. But worse than that, the bitch bosses would then accuse the rest of us of bullying this poor innocent hard working girl and then target us for endless minor infringements real or imagined.
So we tried to do the best we could in spite of being short staffed yet again. But then at around 10.30 the boss - also known as the Old Toad announced over the loud speakers that there would be staff training at 11am and ALL staff were expected to attend
In the old days when the place was run properly and we were fully staffed, we would nearly always be finished by 11am which was the quiet time until just before lunch and if there was any sort of meeting then there was always at least 2 staff on the floor to keep an eye on everyone.
Between my own work and the extra people we had to shower and dress due to being short staffed, by 11am I still had 3 more people. No damned way was I going to their stupid meeting.
I also thought to myself. This is just the pits. I cannot deal with this cheapskate shit anymore. Sod the 550 hours of accumulated sick leave that I will lose but I just have to be out of here by Wednesday 2nd January next year.
There was a strange sense of satisfaction and relief at this spur of the moment decision.
Going into town after work was the last straw. I had planned to go to a net cafe to print out a bunch of photocopies for some online course assignments and then have lunch at Poppo. But first I had to get some money. But there wasn’t even enough in the bank to take out $20. (I had totally maxed out my mortgage payments and was living on the smell of an oily rag)
Payday was every second Wednesday but the filthy goblins had used the excuse of the recent public holiday Monday to delay it by a day. I guess the Macquarie Bank goblins use every minute they can get to hang on to our money so that they can play with it on the money markets.
So I had to juggle the $10 in my pocketses to cover lunch, online time and photocopies. So the planned 30 minutes online became just 15. Any planned shopping would have to wait until Thursday. Maybe the pay would have landed by then.
After that exhausting morning, this was just the final straw.
Little did I know that when I stuck the serpent finger on the Kleptos machine just after 1pm that it would be for the last time. In fact, I have worked plenty of jobs since that day but not a single one of them has been paid work.
For the very next day was when the third and final Howler arrived from the old Toad with even more ridiculous allegations. I was given the usual 2 minutes to reply in writing to these allegations during which time I was considered to be stood down.
They simply did not want me darkening the door telling the others what had happened or even worse showing them the Howlers.
I will never know to this day if there was any connection between the decision made that Wednesday and the arrival of that nasty toadish letter.
In the end I just lost the will to fight them because it was just too exhausting. And they had made damn sure that there was nothing to fight for. I had only stayed so long because I had neglected to organise a life boat naively believing that they cannot sack you if you have done nothing wrong
But now in recent times there has been a resurrection of the past.
Due to scandalous revelations on an ABC current affairs program, the federal government has announced a Royal Commission into Aged Care and nursing homes in particular.
A lot of the scandals included neglect and abuse of the sort that little Miss Princess was doing and getting covered up for. Families resorted to using their own hidden cameras.
That particular chain of nursing homes got rather a lot of dishonourable mentions in the assorted stories and interviews with family members.
I nearly died laughing about the nursing homes with the daily meal budget per person of $6.60. (This was leaked by a disgusted whistleblower from Hell’s Kitchen)
It was $6.60 back in 2012 and food has gotten a whole lot more expensive since then. And we all know that it was REALLY $6.66 per day but that would have been far too much of a giveaway
So I have been out of the loop a long time now so I missed the call out when Four Corners were out looking for residents, families and workers in aged care to share their experiences.
Such a pity because I witnessed the transformation of a fairly friendly home like place where staff were there so long that they were almost like family to a cruel cog in a corporate wheel where the only role of the residents and their families was to add value for the shareholders.
I am supposed to have this whole business sorted by the end of the year. “Dead, buried and cremated” as a certain Mad Monk used to say.
But having my day in court does have its own temptations. Royal Commissions are a pretty strange and compelling Australian ritual. They sound boring in theory but somehow it is all the personal stories that come out that make them such a source of fascination.
Fees for no service and an insurance company deducting life insurance premiums from DEAD people! You can’t make this stuff up.
I guess some folks will do anything to keep their no claims bonus.
It is just over a year now since the Las Vegas Loser unleashed his reign of terror on the unsuspecting people partying at a country music concert. It is interesting to see how this anniversary is observed but scariest of all is keeping fingers crossed that the Devil’s TrumPet does not pay too much attention lest he put both his hooves and those tiny hands in that petty potty little mouth of his. Maybe he has been kept so busy bitching about Dr Christine Ford that the anniversary will pass unnoticed on his calendar
Maybe he is saving his powder for December and the anniversary of the Sandy Hook school massacre.
But back in Izzieland, other days and dates have been drifting into mind
Wednesday 3rd October 2012 began as just another normal day at the Lair. It was the last day of the serpent’s working week starting at 7am and finishing at 1pm and not returning again until 3pm the following Saturday.
I used to call it St Salazar’s Sanatorium for Superannuated Sorcerers which is just an arty farty name for what Muggles would call a nursing home.
The previous month has been distinguished by a lack of nastiness from the manager due mainly to her absence.
But she still had her minions doing her dirty work and that Wednesday morning was no exception.
First business of the day is the morning handover where the registered nurse tells the staff what has happened during the last shift and runs down a list of relevant information concerning the residents that we needed to know for the day. Oh and the other newly added feature - how many staff were missing and how their work was going to be divided out amongst those of us who had bothered to turn up.
One little item concerned Mr X who was found not to be wearing his special hip protecting underwear which is basically a normal pair of undies with padding on the sides. Such garments are designed as shock absorbers and used for some people who were falls risks. That’s of course only if their families pay for them.
This little remark was directed at me since they knew that I had showered him the morning before and I knew that they knew it too.
I replied that while I don’t know what happened after I left at 1pm, I do know that I had most definitely put them on. I had actually gone to the laundry to get a pair since there were none in his room.
So I told this woman that I could prove I put them on because I asked Sue in the laundry who gave them to me and later Pauline helped me walk him from the toilet to the dining room for breakfast. So if you were really interested in pursuing the truth, you could simply ask them.
She got a bit defensive and replied along the lines.
“OK. OK. No need to get your knickers in a knot. We were just reminding you all”
To which I replied along the lines
“Well I am getting sick and tired of the never ending baseless accusations against me.
Next time you play that game you can at least try use your brains and find something for which I could not possibly find witnesses
The way things are going around here, it looks like I will have to bring in a camera and film everything that I do.”
What was particularly galling is that this nurse had a little pet Princess who had a habit of never putting on resident’s hip protectors. A woman had fallen and ended up in hospital a few months previously. One that she had been responsible for and not a word was said about it.
Little Miss Princess used to sit people on the side of the bed to wash them using a bowl because it is quicker than a shower. In one hand she would have a flannel and in the other her iPhone and did not think twice of chatting to her friends on her phone while she was supposed to be working.
These are old and weak people and they are often not strong enough to sit up too long without any back support. Someone with half a heart or half a brain would sit them in a chair which is much safer.
Needless to say, this woman toppled over and fell on the floor and ended up in hospital with various fractures.
Not only did Princess leave a trail of destruction behind her, just disappear and reappear and hope her workload would get done in her absence but any time the rest of us complained about her laziness and dangerous work practices nothing would be done about her. But worse than that, the bitch bosses would then accuse the rest of us of bullying this poor innocent hard working girl and then target us for endless minor infringements real or imagined.
So we tried to do the best we could in spite of being short staffed yet again. But then at around 10.30 the boss - also known as the Old Toad announced over the loud speakers that there would be staff training at 11am and ALL staff were expected to attend
In the old days when the place was run properly and we were fully staffed, we would nearly always be finished by 11am which was the quiet time until just before lunch and if there was any sort of meeting then there was always at least 2 staff on the floor to keep an eye on everyone.
Between my own work and the extra people we had to shower and dress due to being short staffed, by 11am I still had 3 more people. No damned way was I going to their stupid meeting.
I also thought to myself. This is just the pits. I cannot deal with this cheapskate shit anymore. Sod the 550 hours of accumulated sick leave that I will lose but I just have to be out of here by Wednesday 2nd January next year.
There was a strange sense of satisfaction and relief at this spur of the moment decision.
Going into town after work was the last straw. I had planned to go to a net cafe to print out a bunch of photocopies for some online course assignments and then have lunch at Poppo. But first I had to get some money. But there wasn’t even enough in the bank to take out $20. (I had totally maxed out my mortgage payments and was living on the smell of an oily rag)
Payday was every second Wednesday but the filthy goblins had used the excuse of the recent public holiday Monday to delay it by a day. I guess the Macquarie Bank goblins use every minute they can get to hang on to our money so that they can play with it on the money markets.
So I had to juggle the $10 in my pocketses to cover lunch, online time and photocopies. So the planned 30 minutes online became just 15. Any planned shopping would have to wait until Thursday. Maybe the pay would have landed by then.
After that exhausting morning, this was just the final straw.
Little did I know that when I stuck the serpent finger on the Kleptos machine just after 1pm that it would be for the last time. In fact, I have worked plenty of jobs since that day but not a single one of them has been paid work.
For the very next day was when the third and final Howler arrived from the old Toad with even more ridiculous allegations. I was given the usual 2 minutes to reply in writing to these allegations during which time I was considered to be stood down.
They simply did not want me darkening the door telling the others what had happened or even worse showing them the Howlers.
I will never know to this day if there was any connection between the decision made that Wednesday and the arrival of that nasty toadish letter.
In the end I just lost the will to fight them because it was just too exhausting. And they had made damn sure that there was nothing to fight for. I had only stayed so long because I had neglected to organise a life boat naively believing that they cannot sack you if you have done nothing wrong
But now in recent times there has been a resurrection of the past.
Due to scandalous revelations on an ABC current affairs program, the federal government has announced a Royal Commission into Aged Care and nursing homes in particular.
A lot of the scandals included neglect and abuse of the sort that little Miss Princess was doing and getting covered up for. Families resorted to using their own hidden cameras.
That particular chain of nursing homes got rather a lot of dishonourable mentions in the assorted stories and interviews with family members.
I nearly died laughing about the nursing homes with the daily meal budget per person of $6.60. (This was leaked by a disgusted whistleblower from Hell’s Kitchen)
It was $6.60 back in 2012 and food has gotten a whole lot more expensive since then. And we all know that it was REALLY $6.66 per day but that would have been far too much of a giveaway
So I have been out of the loop a long time now so I missed the call out when Four Corners were out looking for residents, families and workers in aged care to share their experiences.
Such a pity because I witnessed the transformation of a fairly friendly home like place where staff were there so long that they were almost like family to a cruel cog in a corporate wheel where the only role of the residents and their families was to add value for the shareholders.
I am supposed to have this whole business sorted by the end of the year. “Dead, buried and cremated” as a certain Mad Monk used to say.
But having my day in court does have its own temptations. Royal Commissions are a pretty strange and compelling Australian ritual. They sound boring in theory but somehow it is all the personal stories that come out that make them such a source of fascination.
Fees for no service and an insurance company deducting life insurance premiums from DEAD people! You can’t make this stuff up.
I guess some folks will do anything to keep their no claims bonus.