I coordinate all the home visits by receiving the referrals and then calling up the clients (or patients, depending on the company); I'm the one who calls and lets them know when to expect the social worker, or we agree on another time. That's all it's supposed to be, but... Sometimes these sweet old people want to explain their particular case to me, even though I tell that that I am NOT the social worker, just his assistant, but they have a need to talk to someone.
I think that, without any expert knowledge of psychology, they have a need to talk to someone who sees them as a person, not a number, not a case, not a client, not a "member" or patient, but as a person, someone who has a past, is suffering now, and hopes to have a better future, although most of them know it won't get better...
So, tonight, Fearless Boss tells me, that by the way, FYI, Mrs. V. died recently. I didn't expect it, we helped her so much through all her problems, I chatted with her on the phone when I was scheduling her and she was so sweet. I'm in a bit of a shock here... I can't believe she's gone. Well, she'll never be a number to me, she will always be that sweet old lady to me, Mrs. V...
I know that death is a part of life, but I hate this. I really HATE this... :`( I said so to Fearless Boss., who by the way, is really my client. (I have a couple more clients, by the way... )
I know that more will die, after all, they are old, and some of them are VERY old, in their 90s. It will happen again. And again. AND again. And, do you know what? I think it is going hurt just as badly each and every time. I wish it wouldn't, I know it will, and still, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Because, if it hurts, then it's because I cared, it's because I loved them. They are real, and if they are real, then I hope I brightened their day, brought a smile a hearty laugh, gave them Hope and encouragement.
I hope so.