
Being a CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) during the holidays is a different kind of hard, I know this because I am one. It takes a huge toll on not only us but on the residents as well. Most people don’t see everything when they are so focused on decorations, shopping and family photos. While everyone else is counting down the days until Christmas break, I’m counting down how many shifts I still have, how many call lights I have to answer, and how many of my residents don’t have families to spend this time with.
The holidays working in healthcare aren’t perfect. It’s early morning shifts when it’s still dark outside, and late night ones when everyone else is sitting around the dinner table. There’s quiet rooms where some residents don’t have family members visiting, so you become the person who stops in for an extra minute to show you care and make them feel noticed and not alone. There are moments when you have to adjust their pillow or blanket, help them facetime their daughter, or even bring them a cup of warm milk because it makes their night a little bit better. Those small things somehow matter more than celebrating this time of year.
I do still feel the holiday spirit, but it’s different now. It’s quieter and more meaningful. It’s in the way where a resident’s face lights up when you compliment their festive sweater or hat. It’s in a way when you get a million thank you cards from the families of the residents you take care of. It’s in the way of knowing you did all you can to make them feel less alone, even if the world is celebrating without you.
While I have a family to go home to after my days at work, some residents are stuck at the nursing home watching their roommates get picked up by family, and somehow the whole unit feels different. Others get no visitors at all and you can see it in their eyes before they even say anything. A lot of residents get more upset or agitated during the holidays and only a few people can see why, the people who put their time and dedication in to spend it with them like CNAs and nurses. Most residents ask over and over again ¨when am I leaving?¨ or ¨why can’t I go home?¨ Even when you try your best to comfort them and explain to them gently, they still burst out in tears wishing to go back to the traditions they used to have when they were younger. Sometimes they cry, sometimes they get frustrated, and sometimes they shut down completely and it’s really hard for us because there is nothing you can do to help.
As CNAs, we absorb those emotions. We’re the ones who see their disappointment up close. We’re the ones calming them when they’re overwhelmed, offering tissues, holding their hands, or just sitting there listening. And even though we stay strong for them, it affects us too. It’s impossible not to feel something when someone is grieving the loss of a moment they will never get back. But we keep showing up, we decorate their rooms, bring them treats and cards; we try to bring some type of holiday spirit into a place that can feel so lonely this type of year. Most of the time, these small acts make a difference with a smile, a lighter mood or even a quiet thank you and it reminds us why we do this work.