My buddy

This is an old one- maybe I even posted it a long time ago? Whatever. I am re-posting it today.
Today I am thinking of my old Buddy, a husband of one of the residents I looked after. He was my good buddy and his nickname was also "Bud" or "Buddy" which made things pretty easy for me (considering it is hard to keep a names for a bunch of ever-changing residents and all of their extended family members straight in my head.)
I see my Buddy and say "Hi Buddy" and there you go.

So, I was not your typical "nursing home worker." For one thing I wore converse sneakers and wierd glasses which really seemed to bother my coworkers.
For another thing, I got too attached.
I think I am too sensitive generally. I play it tough and I don't think people realize how much I carry things with me. I have a hard time letting go of sad things too. (So, yeah, great job choice Devon! go and work in a long-term care home! geesh.)
My manager literally warned me to not get close to anyone, especially family members.

Which seems to me like asking someone who works in this field to go swimming and not get wet.

Bud was one of those people who I seriously clicked with and I adored his wife. When she got really sick and went to the hospital, I went to say goodbye. I spoon fed her because she wouldn't eat for anyone else. I held her oxygen mask for 40 minutes because she couldn't tolerate the elastic.
Leaving the hospital that day I told myself that going to visit residents outside the nursing home was probably too much for my little heart to handle.

Can you believe that she made a recovery and was back with us after a few weeks?

Then I lost Bud the next week after that.

So here you go Buddy, I was thinking of you today. We had some good times and great conversations. I am glad that I got to know you and that we were close.
Being close to people, really listening, and yes, getting attached is important to me.

I would argue that in a nursing home it is the most important thing.