It’s not something I planned. But I realized as the family members of my residents appeared for their daily visits that I needed to tell them.

I’ve gratefully accepted a full-time position at work. (Can you hear the huge *but* coming?)… but it is the graveyard shift… but it is on another floor of the home. The short of which means that I will no longer be caring for the residents that I have been looking after for the past year.

I told the residents themselves of the change. Those that would remember, I told directly. Those that wouldn’t, I told with my hands. Change is difficult for all of them. Being cared for regularly by the same hands really does work miracles for those suffering from the many forms of dementia. They will be well looked after, I know, and get accustomed to new hands. It is just hard to let go. And there has been enough change on the floor of late already.  Activities of daily living irrevocably lost to inevitable progression of disease and several losses of faces that were familiar and beloved. Not a time I wanted to add more to their plate.

The families are a huge part of the home’s life. They were harder to tell. I didn’t want to disappoint or startle them either. And yet they were so amazing. The same lady who brought the staff two boxes of Ferrero Rocher last week – the dark chocolate versions were divine, fyi -  said something like,  “We understand. Change is good for all of us. Don’t forget us and come back to see us.”

I will most definitely be peeking in, but who’s caring for whom? /blush

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