Dear CNA:

While my grandmother has been in and out of assisted living and nursing homes for nearly four years now, the people I have come to admire are you, the Certified Nursing Assistants (CNA). The CNAs at the nursing home are some of the kindest and most patient people I have ever met. You have abilities that can't be learned—they're innate.

CNAs have to use every ounce of their being to help patients in their hospitals or nursing homes; you have to change, wash, wipe, feed, lift, (etc.) each and every resident/patient; shifts can range from a few mere hours to 12 hours to 36 or more hours (I’ve heard a few CNAs at my grandma’s nursing home mention when they’re on 36 hour shifts); there is little sleep or break time. You use every ounce of your body to care for another person; you work holidays, weekends, and nights, and miss out on your own special events for your work.

You are an unsung hero. You keep going, which is pretty amazing.

I admire how you can relate to so many people, along with their families, and take the beatings you do everyday. Your feet ache from walking; you have a headache from all the florescent lights. Your back hurts from lifting one too many people back into their beds or to the bathroom; you are covered in vomit, spit, food, and feces. You are overworked and underpaid; you keep wanting to do more. Your job is exhausting and you still have to go home to your families and friends and pretend you haven’t brushed elbows with death and sadness everyday.

You see many different people come and go (it sometimes appears that more go than come). You have to deal with angry family members because you are overworked and may not be able to attend to every single need of their resident. From taking care of the residents to facing cuts or layoffs due to lack of funding from the state, you still get to know your patients. Doctors come and go and know about patient charts, but the residents live their lives with you. You watch them forget and you watch them lose.

You take care of people who struggle to take care of themselves.

Thank you.

You try as hard as you can to have a smile on your face when caring for these people. You see them cry. You also see every triumph and struggle from entrance to exit. It’s an amazing process and you help them walk every step of the way.

I admire you.