Advertisement
Published: June 30th 2005
June 24th 2005
Godalming, Surrey, England.
Well, how time does fly. The last week has been spent in care-work training, as predicted. It was actually really good, with the content allaying many a fear, until I'm now altogether much more comfortable with the idea - and the purported reality - of a care worker's duties and responsibilities. The attitude of the trainers and the company staff was fairly casual and good-natured, which was a relief as I'd been nervous at the idea of a super-serious psychological evaluation-type of training with cameras monitoring our every move and all of that. But they're not like that, and I quite like everybody I've met so far. My primary trainer even reminds me of a certain ‘roster nazi’ from my last job, with her quirky humour and tough-as-nails, hard-ass attitude. But she's a sweetheart underneath and very good at what she does, and I gained a lot out of her training sessions.
Which is not to say that it was all fun and games. Oh, no. After all, it is an (understandably) serious industry. The legal, moral, physical, etc implications are extensive. There's a lot to remember, and an awareness in the back
Puzzle of the World
When I think of the money I could have saved just by buying a puzzle map...of your mind that at some point you will be responsible for a fairly vulnerable person's welfare. Not always, mind you; every case is different and every patient has individual reliance levels. But if I make a mistake, I could end up hurting somebody, being sued or jailed, or even hurting myself if I forget the manual handling training.
Potential for tragedy aside, though, it was an enjoyable week and I have high hopes for the future. I also made friends with the four other trainees recruited alongside myself. We spent a lot of time together, as we had the evenings and sometimes even late afternoons free. Some fool - it couldn't possibly have been me - dug out a 1000 piece world map puzzle and we spent the next three days putting that together in our spare time, as we couldn’t realistically go very far from the training house and Godalming entertainments are pretty limited. The puzzle became like an obsession, an itch that burned fierily in the recesses of the psyche. We would have short breaks during the training and find ourselves drifting over to the puzzle, fruit or drink in one hand, to pore over details like where all those bloody stupid white ocean tiles went. Thank you, thank you, thank you, somebody, for meridian lines and whatever the other lines are called. And bugger the trainer who, upon seeing the beginnings of the attempt, laughed and said that only one other group had ever managed to finish it. What better provocation could she have given?!! It was like a red flag before a bull. Irresistible!
And finish it, we did. Every last godforsaken piece. If I hadn't been wary of looking pathetic, I'd have glued it to something - the tabletop, a piece of cardboard, the wall, I don't care - so that it could never be disassembled. As it is, I have attached a photo of it and will pretend that the image is enough and that I'm not still itching to go back and glue the original into place.
Of course, all of that was a week ago. After the training was over I chose to spend the Friday and Saturday nights in the training house, mucking about with new mates, before returning to London to organise final preparations and await that all-important phone call advising me of an offer. Which turned out to be for the best, because the training company had problems getting through to my references in Australia. What with the nine-hour time difference and opposite working hours, it was not until Wednesday arvo that all the t's and i's were crossed and dotted (never mind that they’d had all that time prior to taking me on and during the training week to do it…?). So in the meantime I had some fun and enjoyed my last taste of London for what could very well be quite a while.
Which reminds me. I was also advised to go clothes shopping, as many of my shirts have slogans on them which are less than professional, such as the glow-in-the-dark spiders and the green python. Apparently they're inappropriate for the job. So I spent much of my days in London trying to source out cheap clothing shops. The first one which I found myself in was surprising at first, for London: most of the clothes were pretty, of reasonable quality, and due to a sale were damn cheap. Yahoo!, I thought. But imagine my shock upon arriving at the changing rooms with my arms full of clothes, only to discover that it was some kind of European set-up, with one big communal area. For a moment it was like something straight out of a teenage nightmare; a room full of naked women and mockingly enormous mirrors on every bloody wall. Yay. Bring on the chainsaw-wielding maniac and the termination of the chocolate industry. No, just joking, it wasn't that bad. I actually must have been in a funny mood (or matured?), because I actually just shrugged and got over it instead of weirding out like a prima-donna.
But tonight London's bustle and charm are but a dream. As luck would have it, my new client is a resident of the Godalming district, which is somewhat of a comfort as I’m familiar with it after so many jaunts through the area with the other trainees. And so I am back in the training house and am to start officially on Monday. Despite the company’s taking so long to get the references (two weeks after they first knew they'd be needing them), the actual client placement was certainly fast enough! Wednesday afternoon the references were finalized and Thursday morning I was on my way back here to Surrey to meet my new patient! Who, by the by, was really nice.
On the subject of Godalming, it is a rather small town, but not as small as some English "town's", which are often naught but houses strung together with a wee 'high street' whose only businesses consist of a grocer, a haberdashery and a cafe or two. At least in Godalming there's a few banks, chain-stores and so forth, as well as the smaller shops and pubs. Not to mention a winding village stream with weeping willows and swans and ducks. Oh, and joy of all joys, a library… which I am already a member of, but only because it is the only business in the town with internet access. So you can stop laughing.
On the negative side, I will not be able to stay in any reliable contact with loved ones back home. Jobs in this industry are time-consuming, with fourteen-hour working days, eight hours sleep and only two hours of guaranteed personal time. It's also seven days a week. Which sounds fairly arduous, but unlike many vocations, you're not run off your feet the whole time; some (if not most) of each day is obviously spent doing mundane things such as reading to the client or just watching the television with them. I was also very lucky in my client, who is able to do most of the necessities for himself and is very capable. Many patrons, unfortunately, are in an inevitably deteriorating condition, but in this case he is expected to recover to an extent wherein he can walk again and perhaps eventually will need only limited care. Of course, it's a long process and takes months, maybe years, but we have high hopes for him.
Another aspect of this job is confidentiality. I cannot write you because I will not have much that I am able to report. However, I am so very excited about this client and his wife, both lovely people (if, on her side, a trifle demanding), that I will divulge to you some of the details. I do so only because I believe that they are very impersonal facts which surely will not break that trust and could apply to a hundred other people. And feel free to be green with envy of me, haha.
The couple are titled, though it is only a minor English title. But oh, how exciting, I will be working for gentry! I even got to fulfill one of my long-time daydreams of dipping into a curtsey and saucily murmuring, "Sir ~~ " upon meeting him (not sure quite what he thought of that). They have a lovely, rather enormous old house
(not a mansion, but big enough for me to have gotten lost a few times). It’s two stories, with plenty of huge extra rooms and wide hallways which have been lovingly furnished in an English style. Oh, and the grounds! Enormous! They have their own ‘woods’!
There's also a swimming pool, with many maze-like paths through the English gardens between it and the house. There's an adorable little courtyard, and lovely green vines growing all over the house, just like in the movies. And the pièce de résistance? I have my own room, a sitting room, and a bathroom all to myself. Holy mackerel! What on earth does one do with a sitting room?
Unsurprisingly, I am a very happy girl, and in great anticipation of once more being in gainful employment (some days the need to be useful and earning some dosh has been like a physical ache). But with any luck, I'll love the job and stay for ages and be able to act like a right proper hoyden with all my money when I finally tour Europe for real (many of the English don't really think of themselves as European, despite the UK being part of the European Union. I agree. England is very firmly English).
So this is something of a goodbye. Please feel free to contact me, with the awareness that any replies may be a few days in coming. If it's important, I do have a mobile phone and those back home can get the number from my mum, or whoever else has it. I'd be on cloud nine to hear from you. Also, for those who've not said "boo" in the last three months, y'all are soooo outta my will. Which may yet be a regret of yours; I've been shown a photo of one of my client's grandsons, and heaven preserve my soul, but I could just eat that man up!!
Just jokin, I would never. That is to say, given the opportunity I definitely would, but not for monetary purposes. The "will" remark was purely tongue-in-cheek. But damn, he is one fine young thang...
...so bring on the Christmas holidays and pray that it's a family affair.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.056s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 11; qc: 25; dbt: 0.0354s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
rosie groch
non-member comment
hi emma
So glad to hear that you got a lovely couple to look after.