A Thank You from Mercy the Hellbot (former).

Dear Socrates,

I hope you are well, and that you and Nietzsche are getting over your difficulties. It occurred to me the other day, when I was making beds, that I never did thank you for putting me on a better path. I much prefer my current career over working for Satan. It was far easier than you might think to get a job in aged care even with my questionable resume. Yes, the hours are long and the pay is so-so, but I feel content in a way that I never did in my previous work as the Devil’s Robotic Accountant and Murder Machine. I can honestly say that I feel better about myself these days. Indeed, in my old life of hunting, torturing and eventually murdering the enemies of the Dark King of the Abyss, I never really stopped to to think about what I was doing to myself. Sure, I was good at it, but it didn’t make me happy. So I want to say,” thank you.”

Thank you.

As this is my first job in aged care, I feel fortunate to be working at such a well-respected institution as St. Grumpy’s Geriatric and Palliative Respite Home. At first, I had doubts as to how I would cope with such a dramatic change in circumstances, and I am sorry to say I regressed a little while I was at TAFE studying for my Certificate IV in Aged Care. You might have heard about it, that apartment building in Melbourne. Don’t worry my heart wasn’t really in it, so it only looks like cannibalism. Then, when I got the job here straight out of TAFE, I knew it was a sign that this was the right decision.

The grounds here are beautiful, and after I change the waste disposal capsules in the stasis pods I get to take the still ambulant crumblies for a spin around the grounds. The view of the lake is magnificent and often moves my elderly charges to increased drooling. Fortunately, I have refined a procedure for cauterising salivary ducts which has a 35% and rising survival rate. However, as much as I am learning to give of myself in my new calling, the people in my care repay my little kindnesses a thousand fold with their tiny groans of thanks and happy weeping.

It has not been a perfectly smooth transition however. When I first started, I raised some eyebrows in management when I streamlined our meal service by changing the menu from solid food to a nutrient rich paste administered directly to the digestive tract by catheter. At first reluctant with the change the administration came around when they realised that they were able to “restructure” their kitchen staff and save over 2 million dollars a year on wages plus another three hundred and twenty thousand dollars on food.

What cemented my position here was my re-jigging of their bedding system. Even though you are new to the 21st century, I am sure you are aware of the crisis in aged care. There simply are not enough beds to cater to Australia’s aging population. In my first couple of days I found major inefficiencies in the living arrangements of our tenants. With only one person per bed and one bed per room, the knock-on effects of housing was obviously costing St. Grumpy’s millions of dollars each year. My first solution was to double up on the number of people in each bed. This was a good start, but I soon found that with proper sedation, three geriatric humans when appropriately folded, could occupy each bed. Furthermore, with my dietary changes, I predict a loss of weight of some 40% among our residents. This will permit as many as five occupants per bed. Then with bed stacking, as many as 25 residents can occupy each room.

I will admit to some concern about prejudice stemming from my background and working in a Catholic institution. However, in spite of some polite hesitation at first, I feel like I am really appreciated here. My supervisor even mentioned that she had her eye on me for promotion. This highlighted for me the pragmatic and practical nature that Catholic organisations have adopted in recent years. It’s made me feel right at home. Like I have finally found “my people,” as they say.

I must rush off now as I am installing power inverters on the gym equipment. This will enable those still with mobility (in spite of the folding process mentioned earlier) to contribute and will provide enough electricity to run the life support systems of the knitting circle. Those ladies can really knit especially with electrical stimulation applied directly to the pre-frontal cortex. The proceeds of the sales from their blanket and doily making go to subsidise the cost of the corpse reanimation equipment I am developing. The elderly really just want to contribute after all, and thanks to me and ultimately you my dear Socrates, they can. Even in death.

My deepest thanks once again.

Your friend.

Mercy.

Image by Canva AI.