Starting the day with coffee and optimism—little did she know what was ahead!

It All Started With a Smile

I woke up that morning feeling refreshed and ready to tackle my shift. “Today is going to be a good day,” I said, sipping my coffee, blissfully unaware of the chaos waiting for me at work. I even gave myself a little pep talk in the car:
“You’re the queen of care plans, the empress of efficiency—nothing can stop you.”

When I clocked in, everything seemed normal. The hallways were quiet—too quiet. I should have known right then that trouble was brewing.

The moment she realized she was the only one left to tackle the dreaded Hall 3

The Bombshell

“Hey girl, you’re on Hall 3 today,” the scheduler said casually.
Hall 3? The Hall of Doom? The Bermuda Triangle of residents?

“But… I thought I was on Hall 2 today?” I stammered, clutching my clipboard like a lifeline.

“Yeah, about that. Everyone on Hall 3 quit last night. You’re all we’ve got.”

I swear my soul left my body for a minute. Thirty. Plus. Residents. By myself.

When the chaos hit full throttle: call lights flashing, snack requests, and a full-blown wheelchair fight!

The Chaos Begins

I stepped onto Hall 3 with all the confidence of a toddler walking into a lion’s den. The call lights were already lighting up like it was Christmas morning.

“Excuse me, honey!” a resident hollered from Room 301. “Can you bring me my dentures and fix my TV? It’s on the wrong channel!”

“Sweetheart!” yelled another from Room 305. “I need help NOW. And don’t forget my snacks!”

Snacks? I hadn’t even brought my own lunch, let alone the strength for snack runs.

Two hours in, and it already felt like the longest shift ever.

The First Two Hours

It’s amazing how much you can sweat without running a marathon. By 9 a.m., I had:

• Fixed six beds,
• Adjusted three TVs,
• Answered 15 call lights,
• And broken up a fight between two residents over who had the “good wheelchair.”

By 10 a.m., I was walking through the halls like a zombie, dodging wheelchairs and IV poles like I was in an obstacle course. One resident threw their pudding cup at me because I forgot their juice. Their JUICE.

This was it—the moment she wanted to throw in the towel and run.

The Moment I Wanted to Quit

Room 313 was my breaking point.
“Sweetie, I had a little accident,” the resident said, pointing at a mess so horrifying I nearly cried.
“Accident? Ma’am, this is a crime scene.”

Sometimes, a little kindness is all it takes to keep going.

But Then, a Moment of Hope

As I scrubbed, cleaned, and tried not to gag, another resident shuffled up to me. “You’re doing great, honey. Thank you for everything.”

That little compliment? It was like a warm hug for my overworked soul. I wiped my tears (and sweat) and thought, If I can survive Hall 3, I can survive anything.

She survived, but barely—and with a granola bar wrapper in her pocket as her only reward.

How It Ended

By the time I clocked out, I was limping to my car with half a granola bar in my pocket and a prayer on my lips. I had survived the Hall of Doom. Barely.

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CNA Life: You’re Not Alone

If you’ve ever had a day like this, you’re not alone. CNAs are the real MVPs of healthcare, handling chaos with humor, heart, and a lot of hand sanitizer.

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