Fatties at the nursing home :stories from my old job Hi FPH, alpaca here. I figured that I should share some stories from my old job. The title is a bit misleading as my old job wasnt at a nursing home. Rather I worked as a home care provider which basically mean that I had to visit my patients in their homes. The patients are usually too healthy/can manage with help from home  are providers,  to warrant a stay in a nursing home (or they don't want to, you can't force them).  If there's one thing I don't miss from that job it's the hoarders. Sweet Jesus. Anyway Onto the fat people.  She broke the lift To this day, she is the fattest woman I've ever seen IRL. Her whole being resembled a blobfish the way it just lay there, sorry folds all over. You know the scene in Xmen 1 where the senator turns to water and dies? Yeah. A  blob.  Well, Blobby was immobile and the only way to move her from the bed to anywhere else was through a mobile lift that she had in her home. This wasnt actually done that often since Blobby didn't want to move. That meant she did her business (in diapers) in the bed, and she didn't shower, we have to wipe her down with tissues to keep her somewhat clean . Yeah, she smelled like something had died, no surprise there. Trying to clean shit out from her folds was a nightmare.  Well one day someone had managed to convince Blobby to take an actual shower, halleluja. They somehow managed to get the sling beneath her fat body and began to hoist her up. I wasn't there for this particular event (and good thing, cause I wouldve laughed so hard I would've been fired), but they didn't even manage to lift her more than half a foot off the bed before it broke. The freaking lift broke. The heifer was clueless.  They had to dump the lift and buy a reinforced one mounted to the roof.  Most hilarious thing was : once they actually got her in the chair with the intention of carting her into the bathroom they realized she (and her extra huge chair) was too fat to fit through the doorframe. Tehee.  Putting a condom on a limp noodle This male fatty was also unable to get out of the bed without a lift (hmm Im starting to see a pattern), but he was smaller than Blobby. He was more pleasant as well, much thanks to the fact that he didn't speak a lot.  Hell had a urethic catheter. It's basically a tube connecting to the bladder through the uretha. The pee goes to a bag that you can empty by yourself. This means that they don't have to pee in diapers. Now, if the patient for some reason doesn't want a tube in their peehole they can get a condomlike thing around the penis instead. How convenient.  Have you ever tried to put a condom on a limp dick? Now, have you ever tried to put a condom on a limp dick that's almost completely BURIED in fat? I have. It sucked so much you guys have no idea. And I couldn't very well use force to keep that limp noodle from retreating once I dug it out from the fat, so I often lost my grip on it. Fatty looked happy everytime I had to do that though, despite the limpness.  What is that smell... Fatties are great at not taking care of themselves. Mister Beetus Feetus is no exception. Usually your have 'your' patients, the ones you usually go home to, but sometimes you might have to go to others (cause fuck you, that's why). So I had never met Beetus Feetus before. My coworker went to him every day. To this day I believe the reson for her actions is because her brain had decided to spare her the memory of it, but she forgot to mention that he was 1) huge and 2) had the worst case of beetus feet that I had ever seen back then.  Now what you must know is that beetus feet smell, and they smell badly. Rotting body parts overall smell badly, but beetus feet take the fucking cake. It's a very thick smell and it gets stuck to the roof of your mouth. It's rotten meat mixed with something sickingly sweet. It's awful. Beetus Feetus basically lived in his tiny, tiny bedroom and he refused to open the window. So the whole freaking room smelled like what I imagine the waiting room in Hell smells like.  I had no fucking clue what that was, and my coworker waved it away, saying there was poor ventilation and mold. Denial is powerful. So we begin the spiel, waking him up, giving meds, coworker is off to make breakfast while Im supposed to get him ready. (I swear she did that on purpose, no amount of 'he is very specific with his breakfast' can fool me). So I remove his comforter, and the smell just got so much worse. The feet are still covered by a blanket though. Coworker chooses that moment to walk in and cheeefully tell me to be careful with his feet, cause he has diabetic sores.  Ive seen sores. That couldn't have been a freaking sore, it must have been a bloody crater. I didn't have to deal with his feet more than to carefully put on socks and then get his feet into the wheelchair (a doctor or whatever was supposed to look at them every x day), but sweet Jesus. I will never forget that smell.