The Hateful Heavy Heart | 18+

22 - Christmas Eve in Hungary

My workweek was short, only being three days versus my usual five. During this time of year, working at Glendshire was a blessing. It was understood that during the holiday season, seventy-five percent were given paid time off. The other twenty-five percent were paid time-and-a-half in exchange for working during the holidays. Though we weren't the most well-paid nursing home staff in the city, Glendshire offered a wide range of benefits that many others did not, such as health insurance and access to a 401k.

I tended to be a part of the seventy-five percent that did not work during the holiday season; the holiday rate is equivalent to overtime, and given the limited amount of space for aides during the holiday season, it was understood that the opportunity should be reserved for those who needed it most. About forty-five percent of the residents tended to be absent from the nursing home during the season, given the increase in familial events and gatherings. The other fifty-five percent were given care within the walls of the nursing home, while the working aides did their best to provide a sense of home and comfort.

Glendshire Woods Nursing Home was unique. I had worked in previous nursing homes, but Glendshire was my favorite. While I didn't believe that nursing homes were the end all be all, Glendshire's foundation was rooted in community. At Glendshire, we were reminded that the residents were people first. We were reminded that their pleas of pain or help were valid, and it was not dictated based on their race, ethnicity, origin, religion, sex, or gender. We were taught that we need to always have the best interest of the patient in mind. We were taught to be a friend to our patients and to regard our patients with empathy and compassion.

Glendshire was trying to change the rhetoric surrounding nursing homes. It was well-known that long-term care facilities were expensive. Therefore, the public's access to them was limited; for most working-class and low-middle class families, nursing homes weren't affordable. That was the sad truth. However, Glendshire attempted to cater to that specific community, with the belief that one deserved ethical, high-quality long-term care regardless of one's financial resources.

We offered a one-time admittance fee of four hundred fifty dollars, and each room was private, running at around a hundred dollars a night, or about thirty-seven thousand per year, which was about fifty-five percent less than the city's average. Furthermore, we offered payment plans and worked closely with one's insurance to figure out the best payment plan possible. Given our low costs, it was true as employees, we were experiencing a financial loss. However, our main focus was and would always be the treatment and the wellbeing of our residents.

It was also well-known that nursing homes could be less than enjoyable for residents. Living in a nursing home could propagate feelings of depression and loss of independence. Glendshire attempted to compensate for that by often hosting events for the residents, such as game nights, cooking sessions, or late-night activities. They also committed that for every two residents, there would be one nursing aide on staff. While we were assigned specific patients, we were encouraged to mingle and meet other residents.

For the holiday season, Glendshire went all out. Keeping decorations vague, given the wide range of holidays one could celebrate, it was the one time of the year that every day, there was an event held. For Christmas Eve, though they just acknowledged it as the twenty-fourth of December, they were holding a dinner, where residents were encouraged to dress up. I always enjoyed viewing the fun, vibrant photos that derive from the holiday season, capturing the residents in moments of joy.

That was at Glendshire, though.

I, on the other hand, was walking hand-in-hand with Ruggiero into the glass, automatic sliding doors of Parkway. I wondered if he could feel my hand sweating. There was something about Parkway that I didn't like; it wasn't like Glendshire. Unlike Glendshire, the silence was almost deafening. Despite the white walls, death's shadow still lingered. Perhaps, I was just a bit biased and was struggling to accept the fact that it was now Cleo's home, not Glendshire.