End of November, it's getting to be a chilly trip up here to the lookout tower on the roof. I'm starting to wish I'd set up a circuit that would allow me to turn on the heater up here before I make the long climb up the ladder. Boy, my fingers woulfd probably still be too stiff with cold to type, if the lookout tower weren't imaginary.
At present, much though I might wish it were otherwise, the majority of my income comes from my CNA license, rather than my LMT. Currently, I'm affiliated with a home-health agency, going to people who need a little assistance with this or with that: cooking, dressing changes, emptying catheter bags, whatever their particular needs require.
I prefer night shifts over days, and I prefer long shifts over innumerable short ones (there was a time when I was feeling exhausted, and suddenly realized that, where a normal person goes to work five times a week, I was going sixteen times a week -- itwas the act of going to work that was doing me in). But perhaps even more than these, I prefer bicycling to work.
It feels good to stretch these legs, get some chilly open air into my face and up my nose, get a glimpse of what the world looks like at odd hours. Once I've washed away the sweat and changed into my respectable caregiving clothes, I feel like a king. A king with a full treasury and a clean conscience. I feel great.
The smile alone can't help but be good for the clients.
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