The air was tense as Claudia stared at the open doorway through which a visitor had just walked.
“She has the nerve to put that kind of pressure on us,” Claudia whispered to her co-worker Rebecca as she craned her neck, making sure that the woman was gone.
“They do have their policies,” Rebecca chimed in sympathetically. As the only two social workers in Valley Hill Nursing Home, they often bonded like beleaguered soldiers in a foxhole.
“I kid you not – literally no one knows what we do in the slightest,” Claudia moaned as she pinched the corner of a framed photo of her three children on her desk in front of her.
“It’s a bad time for Medicaid-pending patients right now and we have people sitting on our rehab unit who are long-term appropriate. This woman from the business office comes to our office daily to remind us that dealing with Medicaid is our job and not hers. Not only that, but she says she’s playing social worker and does a better job at it than we do.”
“I feel for you, Claudia,” Rebecca volunteered in a sympathetic tone.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Claudia said. “You’re only three years away from retirement. Then you can blow this joint.”
Rebecca looked back solemnly but held back a few defensive words that she was thinking.
“I feel like ranting and I have every right to do so,” Claudia murmered.
Just then Rebecca’s phone signal lit up and gave a dinging sound. Rebecca raised it to her ear for a moment and nodded. Then she suddenly got up from her chair.
“Something came for you,” she said as she started for the door.
“Probably some stale donuts left over from the poetry reading this morning,” Claudia complained cynically.
But Claudia was not finished with her bluster.
“Wouldn’t you agree,” she continued as her partner stood in the doorway, “we’re a glorified punching bag and office scapegoat around here. The medical system is bed-and-budget focused. Patient-centered care is just lip service. All the families that come to me with complaints are about the care they receive from doctors, nurses and aides. Somehow I’m caught being the messenger who brings bad news.”
Claudia stopped talking and fished around in her purse with a few darting motions. Rebecca had already left the room, but then returned in a few minutes.
“Well, these might make you happy,” Rebecca exclaimed as she walked into the office. She was carrying a vase full of bright red roses.” The older woman stopped in front of Claudia’s desk and raised a small note to her bifocals.
“Claudia, thank you for all of your help in finding a home care service for mom. You and Rebecca worked very hard and you deserve this.” The note was signed “Amelia.”
“Oh, that was the daughter of the 86-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s Disease,” Claudia quipped quietly. “That was a heckuva case.”
Both women smiled and sniffed at the aromatic bouquet.
“Maybe there is a silver lining to all of this?” Rebecca suggested.
“Maybe,” Claudia admitted quietly.
(The above is a fictionalized account taken from real events.)