Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Means to an End That Was Not What I Expected

I decided a few years ago that I wanted to be a PA. In order to get into PA school, you have to have a large sum of work experience in the health field. Most students I've talked to either become a Medical Assistant, CNA, phlebotomist, or EMT. I don't know why I decided on a CNA, but I did. The year after my sophomore year, I stayed in Utah spring semester to get my CNA license, since it is a lot cheaper and faster in Utah than in California. I am currently working as a CNA in a physical therapy rehabilitation center and I love it.

A guy I knew asked why I wanted to be a CNA and told me it was the worst job--disgusting and demeaning. He was pretty rude and insensitive about it, and it kind of bothered me. It wasn't just that he was speaking about the elderly too callously and was criticizing something I had already started. But I wanted him to see it for what it was: a means to an end. I wanted him to see that I that I was willing to suffer through it to get where I wanted. I guess I wanted him to pity me and admire me for my sacrifice.

Well, now I know I was wrong. Yes, I'm still sure he was too.

Well, I have loved this experience. I love the facility I work in and I love my coworkers. And I have fallen in love with those I work with.

I have seen a change in me. And I like it. I am more patient and love comes easier. I am more tender and gentle. I respect the elderly a lot more. I've learned people are easier to work with when you give them the benefit of the doubt. I have learned that to know someone is to love them. That through serving, comes love.

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