Whenever I tell people what my job is, the vast majority scrunch their nose into a disgusted look and say something along the lines of: "Oh...so, like, you wipe butts and stuff?" I usually chuckle and make some light joke back but in my mind I can't help but get slightly offended. Yes, I do wipe butts, but I do so much more than that.

Being a Certified Nursing Assistant is tough, physically and mentally. Not enough people realize the amount of hard work that really goes into it and nothing can really prepare you for the obstacles you have to face. You are not only a CNA. You are a waitress, a maid, a companion, a shoulder to cry on, and sometimes you are the only person someone can turn to. You are their family. That in itself is a huge responsibility.

When I tell people what my job entails, like cleaning up the occasional poop explosions, the response back is usually: "Oh, I couldn't do that, there's no way." Well, to be honest, it's not the ideal task. I didn't just wake up one day and think "You know what, I want to clean up feces for a living." But it is something that comes along with my job, so I do it. I try to make that person feel like they did absolutely nothing wrong. It's embarrassing for them; I am sure, if they could, they would do their business in the toilet like the rest of us. However, they can't. So I do what I have to do with the biggest it's no big deal attitude that I can. When you are trying to help maintain someone's pride, the last thing on your mind is how gross it is. It is my job to clean up messes, and build up confidence. I would want someone to do the same for me when I no longer have control over simple things.

At my job, I work with a lot of Dementia/Alzheimer's patients. When someone has dementia, they forget how to do the simple, everyday tasks like how to use the bathroom, get dressed, brush your teeth and hair, put on shoes, etc. They have lack of judgement, common sense, and eventually the ability to even speak complete sentences. Everyday they lose apart of themselves, piece by piece, and it is absolutely heartbreaking.

That is when I step in. I am there to remind them how to do things and to help them when they are incapable. Because of their dementia. I deal with many combative residents. They will hit, punch, scratch, spit, kick, etc. It requires a mass amount of patience to keep your cool when encountering situations like that. When you are being yelled at and being called names, most natural reactions are to yell back and reciprocate such behavior to stick up for yourself. However, my job is to remain calm and try to calm them down as well. That can be frustrating, for them and for me, but I have to stand back and remember: these people don't know where they're at. One day they were living in their home of 30+ years, and the next they are in this unknown territory with people they don't know. They are probably absolutely terrified. They don't remember that just five minutes ago, when they asked where they were, I told them that they are here because they require just a little more help than they can receive at home, so they ask again. And I tell them again. And they will ask 50 more times, and I will tell them 50 more times. That is my job. I am their reminder, I am their guidance, I am their family.

So yes, I do wipe butts. But I also wipe away tears, I wipe away anxiety, and I try my best to create a home away from home for my residents. When a resident thanks me for all my help, or tells me that they love me, or gives me a hug, that is what makes my job worth it. When a resident's family pulls me aside and thanks me for all that I do and that they feel safe with their mother or father in my care—that is what makes my job worth it. I don't care that I have to wipe butts or clean up urine or feces. That is just a small requirement of the bigger picture. I am someone a person can confide in, I am someone a person depends on, and that to me is the most rewarding job I can ask for.

So, next time you think someone is "just a CNA," think again. They do the things most people don't want to do, and then some. CNAs are heroes, they are depended on, and they will care about people as if they are their own family. Keep that in mind next time you categorize them as people who "just wipe butts."