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I'm the smartest, prettiest, funniest girl you ever saw, you just don't know it yet.
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20Q
A Twisted Day In The Life Of...
Anenigma
Danielle
Geek In Black
Glibbertysmidgeon
Go Fug Yourself
The Invincible Revenge Of Mr. Brick
The Marj Memoirs
Mark Pickerel
Waiter Rant
Warren Ellis
Weetabix
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I took my test today. I have not been called about my results yet, and I feel confident that I did alright on both the math questions and the 'common-sense' questions, but I am less confident that I answered the "Why do you want to be a CNA?" question to their satisfaction. I am not sure that my drive to help elderly patients change their clothing is high enough for me to be an ideal candidate. I would enjoy helping people, and would take pride in doing my work well, but I am not sure that I can be passionate about such a job.
There were two or three questions on the test that seemed to me to be more a matter of the specific rules of the facility than 'common sense', and that threw me for a bit of a loop. If I heard another aide shouting at a patient, my first instinct would be to report it to a superior, but depending on the chain of command, that may not be the correct protocol. I did not feel like I had enough information of the way the clinic is run to be able to answer the questions properly.
The clinic itself is a bit depressing. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but as I walked up the street looking for numbers on the buildings, I saw a run-down, stucco building, one story, probably built in the 70's, and I said to Kevin, "I really hope that's not it." Of course, it was.
Inside it felt a little more like a clinic. Thankfully there wasn't a strong hospital smell, and most of the staff that passed by seemed pretty easy-going, more like friends to the residents than caretakers. The sprawling building featured worn carpet, low, paneled ceilings, and ancient fluorescent lighting that did nothing to help make the rehabilitation center more appealing in the greyness of the March afternoon. I was asked to take a seat in a waiting area/television room which offered a single wing back chair, an abandoned wheelchair, and a loveseat. The wing back chair was occupied by Mac, a friendly, ornery old man who used to go to the same church I did (back in the day when I still believed in God) and almost certainly had no idea who I was when I greeted him cheerfully. Half of the love seat was taken up by a man in his late twenties or early thirties who seemed to have no idea what he was doing there. He asked me plenty of questions about the course we would be testing for, but I could not definitely answer most of them.
The class schedule is not strictly 9-5 as I had assumed, so provided I pass the test and am accepted into the program I will be waiting to start the courses until the beginning of May. This should give me enough time to get my driver's license and buy a reliable car.
