I recently started working with a new certified nursing assistant (CNA) named Kiya (pronounced "KAI-ya"), and I feel that getting to know her has helped me to understand myself, too.
Kiya’s employment got off to a rocky start, because just as she was supposed to show up to help me, she contracted a stomach virus that kept her at home after an ER visit. During that time we waited, because she reassured us that she would be fine soon. Eventually the day came when we met and started to get to know each other.
After a week, I realized that Kiya is much like I was at 21. Just as I did, she illustrates maturity at a young age, quiet intelligence while doing her job, and an innate desire to help others.
The Challenge of Needing Assistance
When dealing with such an intimate companion who is ever-present when I toilet and bathe, I have had to surrender a certain amount of autonomy. However, with Kiya, I am quite fine with that. It feels all right.
Previously, I had another CNA who was of an entirely different personality makeup, and let’s just say she was not in my comfort zone. She had to be told not to do certain things such as not bring her phone and earplugs into the shower while helping me. She turned “client” time into her time. It was a confusing and chaotic time for me. That CNA also drank the energy drink Red Bull constantly and smoked, which added to the confusion. My dislike of these habits are personal peeves, but I have the right to have them.
The difference between these two CNAs, and my differing comfort levels with them, have made a huge difference in my life.
Feeling a Personal Rapport Makes a Big Difference
I do realize that accepting this sort of help is made easier by the rapport I develop with the other person. I would like to mention a couple of things Kiya started doing from the very beginning that made an impact.
This is where Kiya shows her brilliance: All her transfers used the same technique, which made it easy for me to know what to expect. Even though I know that my left leg is “paralyzed,” she would always say the word “pivot” so intellectually I knew what to do. Sometimes I used the grab bars to push my body to pivot. These were small things that made a world of difference.
The other low-budget solution Kiya implemented was putting my 300-pound wheelchair behind my shower chair to prevent it from moving. This way, she would have two free hands if I needed help.
I am still in awe of that solution.
Perhaps the most important ingredient in our relationship is the encouragement she gives me to continue my efforts.
Trying New Things Is How We Learn, for Better or for Worse
There is another lesson here. As Kiya is young, with her whole life ahead of her, she is a work in progress. She is into holistic treatments and nonconventional approaches, and she’s always looking for the next nontraditional treatment.
Sometimes, she ends up being sick from trying things. I did the same thing when I was her age! One time in my twenties I drove two and a half hours to attend a nontraditional breathing exercise workshop for multiple sclerosis (MS). And in graduate school, I sometimes tried unregulated supplements or concoctions in hopes that they’d help. That was when I just wanted to be a “normal” person, just like all my classmates.
Once, I decided to change my diet to lose weight and took a bunch of supplements — in my mind, to do something extraordinary. Well, the only extraordinary thing that happened is I threw up in the middle of the study group session. Clearly, my body rejected all the supplements and food I had just introduced to it.
It wasn’t until my fifties that I realized I couldn’t fix my MS.
Kiya makes me realize how the life cycle works and how far I have come. Kiya and I have become a team, which is exactly what I need at this point in my journey.
