This Post Contains a Photo of Me Sans Pants

You think your day was bad? Today, I got my ass handed to me by an 87-year-old man.

So, in the gigantic bathing area, we have multiple curtained off sections containing special bathtubs to allow us to bathe the residents. We have two different types in our facility, one of which is similar to this:

On this one, the tub can be raised or lowered to accommodate the needs of both residents and care givers. I tend to like it better than the other one. The second model contains a chair… lift… thing (yeah, it’s a technical term, ellipses and all). Here’s a picture of a tub with a chair lift, though ours isn’t much like this one:

Ours has a chair lift, like the above image, but it opens from the front. I like to say it’s front-loading, but no one gets the joke. See, while the whole “opens from the front and has a chair lift that slides in and out of the tub in a super fancy manner” seems awesome, it’s really only useful at the beginning of the bath. After that, the stupid chair lift gets in the way of everything. It sometimes requires maneuvering on a step ladder to do everything you need to. I hate it.

Now let’s segue into the story proper.

I am bathing an 87-year-old man with extremely limited functionality. He’s unresponsive and unable to do anything for himself. He’s also heavy as hell, but then, there are few residents who are light <feel free to inject your own snarky remark about American obesity rates here>.

The bath is over, and I’m ejecting the man from the front-loader. I’m having Chris help me transfer the man onto a horizontal lift (it’s kind of like a gurney, only with hydraulic lifting action), which resembles:

We are going from the chair to the lift when…

The man freaks the fuck out.

This is one of my regular residents. I have never had an issue with him. In fact, he doesn’t really do anything at all. Ever. So today, when he suddenly begins thrashing and flailing wildly, I’m surprised I didn’t drop him in shock.

Though I didn’t drop him, Chris and I can’t continue moving him while the man’s twisting and lashing his limbs about. We get him to the floor as gently as possible, yelling for a nurse. Chris runs out to the nurse’s station, while I try to keep the man from hurting himself. I have two arms. He has four limbs and a head. This proves difficult for me.

During this process, he manages to punch me in the arms and legs several times. This fit of crazy seems to have given him massive amounts of strength, because his hits hurt like hell. I’m having a bitch of a time restraining him. Finally, Chris comes back to help me, and a few seconds later, a nurse runs in and sedates the man.

We get him back to his room, call the doctor, and I continue on with the remaining hour of my shift.

After returning home, I survey the damage. Here’s the worst of it:

I imagine this image is less sexy than you envisioned when reading the title of this post. So sorry to disappoint.

 

It’s not great picture quality, but you can see the bruising. The big, ugly, painful bruising.

I’m so glad it was my Friday. Christ.

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