When In Rome.....

Having a job that pays you a salary is a wonderful thing. However, in home care, that doesn't always work in your favor. Being a salaried nurse, you don't always have the ability to pick and choose the patients you see. I received a call from the office one day, telling me I had another patient to add to my schedule. After getting all of the demographics, the scheduler-quietly said, " Oh, he gets a little combative and agitated at times, and sometimes refuses to let the nurse in, but you have to make him let you in.. he is a brittle diabetic, but I know you can handle it". Great. I reviewed his diagnosis list..diabetes-fine, hypertension-no problem, coronary artery disease-piece of cake.. schizophrenia-hmmm, we'll see.
After parking my car in the parking lot, I began to walk down the grassy hill to the low-income apartments. It was at that point I noticed, the homeless man fast asleep in the side yard, the little kids running around in diapers, the young men gathered around an old car with the radio blasting, and smoke in the air. As I identified my patients apartment , I noticed the blinds were twisted, broken, and a face was looking out the window. Taking a deep breath, and reminding myself that I love my job(over and over), I slowly approached, and knocked. A loud voice yelled through the metal door, "Who is it?" I explained I was the nurse, and was here to check his blood sugar, and give him his insulin. After what seemed like hours, he replied louder, "You're lying, I'm not letting you in"..Wow. Now what? I told him again, I was here to help him. He continued to peer out the window, as I stood there.. confused, and slightly irritated that he was now putting me behind schedule. "I'm not letting you in, until you tell me your gang affiliation" he announced. What??, there I stood, nursing bag over my shoulder, scrubs on my body, name badge on my shirt, and he wants to know my gang affiliation??
I stood there for a few more seconds, trying to decide: run as fast as I can back to my car, or answer the man. I pressed my face close to the door, and said, in a low voice "I'm with the West Side Nurses". Long awkward pause. Slowly, the door opened. There stood a pleasant man, smiling from ear to ear, and exclaimed, "Why didn't you say that from the beginning.. come on in honey".
I took care of this man every day for almost a year. The director of nursing asked me on several occasions, "How did you get him to agree to your visits.. I just told her, don't worry about it. One day, I was running late to see him, and he called the office- he didn't give my name, yet told the director, "My nurse isn't here yet- ya know her- the one in the West Side Nurses Gang, can you call her?"
I won employee of the year that year