She still has my back

Those who know me will tell you that I'm brutally honest.  Don't ask me what I think or how you look or if I like the guy or girl your dating because I won't candy coat the truth.  I might say, "That's a dumb idea," or "You might want to do some planks to tighten your belly before you wear that dress," or "He's a knob/she's not that bright of a bulb."  But I also might say, "That's is a brilliant idea, thank you," or "Get the dress, who cares how much it is, you look terrific in it," or "Treat her right/he's a keeper."  This isn't part of my personality rather it's what my mom taught me.  She would say over and over "Sometimes, people need to hear the truth."  Mom was right.
I'm sure there are some people reading this who I have offended with the truth and I know that there are some people reading this that my mom offended with the truth.  I'm not sorry and neither was my mom and at some point you looked back and thought about it and came to the conclusion that we were right to speak our minds and  to speak the truth and you might even be a little bit thankful or not.
The full-time and enduring staff at the extended care facility are terrific.  Many of them remember mom when she was healthy and many say to me that I don't look her, but I sure remind them of her and it's because I speak my mind.  I have great relationships with the full timers.  They are there not only to help mom but they also help me with encouraging words and the occasional hug.  They/we always relay information about how her morning was, or I let them know if she is having visitors and how much she ate, etc, etc.  We share information about her care and they love to hear the stories of even some of the crazier things she does.  So Kudos to Cathy, Ashley, Mary, Nora, Erica, Jason, Joyce and anyone I've forgotten.
There are the part-timers and some of them are really great too.  Some, not so much and it shows.  Those that are just doing it for the money are so anti-social and regimented in their mannerisms and behaviours that I don't like to be around them.  Many of them don't even talk to the residents as they port them to a meal, or feed them or anything.  They don't ask the resident if they would rather watch TV or take a nap, they just do what they feel needs to be done without any real consideration of what the resident wants.  End stage or not, talking or not, these residents deserve to be treated with respect and consideration.
Then there are the casuals.  Most of these staff members I don't know well enough to make a judgement.  What I do know is that they don't work enough with the patients to know the routines or likes or behaviours of the residents.  Because I'm there everyday and partially because of my memory, I do.  I can tell you what Marjorie likes to drink and that Olga is actually awake when her eyes are closed and that Gord really isn't a prick, he's just misunderstood.
Today, due to some some sickness, a weekend and scheduled time off for the full-timers and part-timers, there were all casuals on the morning/afternoon shift.  When I arrived I saw Audrey (a spouse/caregiver of a resident) re-arranging and moving residents to their proper places.  She was so glad I was there to help because the whole room was a 'cluster fuck'.  After we did that and everyone was properly seated, two of them took lunch break at the busiest time.  That left myself, Audrey and two casuals to deal with lunch service and feeding.  Audrey and I organized it without their help or consent and decided that she would do the drinks, I would bibs out and on and start with the soups.  One of the casuals, a nice girl but out of her element said "You don't do that, we do."  I smiled and responded "Well, it looks like we do and since it appears that you don't, we will," and I carried on.
Within minutes all the residents had their bibs, drinks and soups so Audrey and I went about on helping those who need assistance.  The casuals just stood there really not knowing where to go or what to do.  The girl came to my table and while I was giving Evelyn some soup, she proceeded to try to give mom her soup (which is in a cup with a straw) by putting crackers in the cup.  I had to point out to her that the crackers will clog the straw and I asked her to go and get a new cup of soup and she reluctantly did.
As the lunch proceeded on I listened to this casual worker as she spoke with the residents.  "Oh Sam, take a widdo bite for me," and "Marie please, please, please drink the milk."  It wasn't  only what she was saying but also her tone of voice, like she was talking to a baby and she may as well have been saying "Cootchie, cootchie, coo."
She came to our table and said "Hi Elaine," in her baby voice.  "Can you give me a little smile."  Well that was it, sometimes people need to be told the truth kept running through my mind.  So, I spoke up.
"Do you work at a daycare?" I asked.
"No, why?" she responded.
I then proceeded to tell her that she speaks to the residents like they are children and they aren't children, nor do they have the minds of children and that I find it demeaning.  She then told me that she disagreed and since I'm just (YES SHE SAID JUST) a volunteer and she is a trained health care worker, that she would know best how to speak with the residents.  Well the hairs on my neck stood up and I said "Your 5 month training at Columbia College or Academy of Learning or wherever may have taught you how to lift properly and how to administer medication properly but it did not teach you how to communicate properly.  ONE of my degrees in communication DID teach me, over 4 years, how to communicate properly."
She then asked my mom, and again in a baby-like voice, "Elaine, do I talk to you like you're a child?"
Mom turned her head and looked at her and slowly but clearly answered "Yes, you do, stop it."
I nodded and smugly smiled at the girl.  I was happy because my mom still has my back.