So, I'm sitting in a work van in the parking lot of a convalescent home trying not to have heat stroke. We got a call at the funeral home that someone here died who had pre-arrangements with our firm, and I offered to go on the call to pick them up. I was actually a bit surprised that I was allowed to go on it, what with all my fragile girl parts that everyone seems to think are easy to damage, but they did and so here I am.
I arrived a while ago and one of the staff members informed me that the family of the deceased had shown up shortly after they were notified of the death, and that there was still someone arriving to see the deceased in a little while. I told her that I would just go wait in the car and she could come get me when they all left, which she responded to by offering to let me hang out in the waiting room. Um, really? Has she never smelled that place? I'd rather wait in the blazing hot and uncomfortable van than go back to work smelling like urine and old people. I know I seem harsh, but these places are awful, and I don't know how they keep people on staff, not to mention residing there as well. And I didn't want to be talked at by the little olds that make no sense. Walking in the front door is like entering a circus, with all the yelling, beeping, coughing, etc. It's a madhouse in there.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Chillin in the car
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