Tuesday, December 25, 2012

But I’m Entitled to a Pony!

At one of my prior jobs, we had a nursing home patient who, for some reason, thought the State of Utah provided horse property to all of the indigent state residents. (That’s not even the most ridiculous idea of entitlement that I’ve heard but certainly one of the strangest.) No one in the social work department could dissuade her, and as time went on, she became more and more grumpy. She eventually left our nursing home and went to another one. I’m assuming that social work staff couldn’t accommodate her either, but what do I know.
This all happened around my birthday and a time when I had very short, “ball-busting bitch hair.” (Description provided by my boyfriend.) He really wanted me to grow my hair out and I would get asked at work how the princess hair was coming along. (Well, not quickly, as you can imagine.) So they bought me a long, curly, platinum blonde wig. Perfect!
After that, when we had a patient or family with unrealistic expectations of our State assistance program, we would be advised to put on our princess hair and go get a pony. And hence, with experience, comes the death of most social workers’ idealism.

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