Although I like to help others, I’m no saint. I did go with an eye toward my own comforts and considerations. She had a nice comfortable bed for me in the corner of a home office room. And the paycheck was going to help out. So I packed mostly just my vanilla/normal clothing to work in someone else‘s home for their comfort.
I was once a nurses aid, in three different nursing homes no less, back in the day. So I knew what to expect on the whole. I also knew that this person did not have all the funds or insurance coverage to go into temporary nursing care or be able to take care of herself at home for that time, even with a visiting nurse.
I was ‘hired’ to make and server meals, do a little ‘light’ house cleaning and the personal care and cleaning of this woman until she could resume doing these things for herself again. And I was not offered a large figure for doing this.
She had no computer, DVD player or even a TV, only a radio and some cassette tapes of general oldies pop music. Books of Christian novels. And an anti social cat.
She thought she could rent a computer for me and had no idea that it needed to be plugged into an internet hookup of some kind. (And since Gladys, my laptop computer, died with a thump to the head on the floor one day. I was without my laptop to play with, have my own music, or write on.) And frankly I was hoping that the paycheck would go some way toward buying me new one.
Don’t get me wrong here. I would have helped her without the promise of money. I just would have been happier knowing I was doing it from a point of giving and not as a job. I might have also seen to my own comforts a bit more. And I would have resented the extra time spent there a little less.
She was a light sleeper and I would stare quietly out the window for hours so she would not be disturbed by my leaving the room, for example.
You all know how it is. There are things you would do for money that you wouldn’t do else wise. Or at least you would have a different attitude about it. That was my dilemma after the first few weeks when I realized she couldn‘t pay all her bill much less pay me.
I would have been happy to wash her floors on my hands and knees for nothing given the choice. But to do it for cash and getting none, hurt me more then I’d like to admit.
She is a sweet old thing and I liked caring for her. (It was my choice to leave without serving her a bill for moneys owed. Knowing she didn‘t have it.) But I would have packed some more of my Lady Euphoria clothing and makeup, and been more comfortable in my own skin knowing the outcome.