Dit artikel geeft een blik op het werk in het verpleeghuis waar Lijda momenteel verblijft
Translation of the article below. This article gives a little insight into the work involved at the nursing home where my wife is currently staying.
A MORNING IN THE BLINKERT
You have psychological problems, you take the means to get peace of mind, you get a physical complaint, you don’t have a safety net and voila: your further “career” is planned. With many residents of nursing home De Blinkert in Baarn, things have just turned out. We walk along with caring Dacill.
It is nine o’clock in the morning when people shuffle at the team post. Medicines are distributed and those who can still walk or drive there themselves. While a colleague is handing out the pills – anything and everything: antidepressants, withdrawals, methadone and especially soothing medication – Dacill (25) is starting her round. She is immediately arrested by Kees, who cannot get into his mobility scooter today due to acute muscle weakness. The occupational therapist must be involved; Dacill grabs her phone and in the meantime walks to the breakfast room. Vladimir is sitting at a table there. With his elegant hat and long gray beard, he appears to be an artist. He is from Amsterdam, but has been living in De Blinkert for a year and a half. Because of neuropathy he no longer has any feeling in his limbs, everything is difficult for him. “But I don’t give up,” he says combatively. Someday he wants to go back to Amsterdam. Marijke wants that too, who is sitting at a different table. Occasionally a growling sound comes from her throat. “She needs to be helped with everything,” says Dacill, rescuing an empty cup threatening to fall out of the shaking hands of Marijke.
“Many people hope to live independently again someday, but for many De Blinkert is the ultimate place to live,” says Marianne manager later. “Every year about 25 of the 93 clients die. The average length of stay is two and a half years, but it also happens that people die three days after arrival. “De Blinkert is a unique facility in the Netherlands. There are people with the most complex problems, always a combination of psychiatric and somatic problems, an addiction and behavioral problems. Sometimes everything at once. They can’t go anywhere else. Elise passes by in the corridor for the tenth time in five minutes. She looks like a teacher, but has serious cognitive problems due to an addiction.
Dacill has found occupational therapist Linda in department De 7 Linden. They discuss how they can get Kees in his mobility scooter. If the “shelf” option falls, he looks worried. That didn’t go so well last time. While Linda goes looking for the hoist, Dacill cleans up his room a bit. Kees has been addicted for eighteen years, kicked off and relapsed. “I felt guilty, neglected myself.” He gets a little sad when he talks about it. When the hoist is there, his face brightens again. Two minutes later Kees floats between heaven and earth. No unpleasant experience. Dacill helps him with angelic patience when he is back in his coat and with stubborn buttons, switches and plugs of the scooter. Moments later, the FC Utrecht fan is satisfied.
“I always look at how I can do something extra for them”
Dacill arrived at De Blinkert through an internship and holiday work. Now she works full-time and follows the training for nursing. She deliberately chose this complex but challenging target group because no two days are the same and the behavior of the clients is just as colorful. She likes being able to mean something to people who have often had a very tough life. “It is sometimes difficult to see how they fight against an addiction and then do not make it. But I do not take their sorrow home, there is no beginning. I always look at how I can do something extra for them. For example, Kees likes reading the Bible together. “
In the meantime, she has put on a protective jacket and put on a mouth cap. She will take care of the very contagious wound of Leo, who in addition to all kinds of problems also has diabetes, which has cost him, among other things, his big toe. His room is full of photos of beautiful young people. “All family,” he says proudly. He has had open wounds on his foot for two years, which must be treated twice a day. He closely monitors Dacill’s performance, which remains undisturbed. When she has connected everything again, it is finally time for a cup of coffee. She finds a gift from her manager at the desk in the team post: Thank you for your efforts in the past year. Kees glides past in the corridor. “Are you back?” She calls after him. No, he had forgotten his cigar. For the tenth time that week.
For privacy reasons, the names of the clients mentioned in this article are not their real names