Leave me the F*** alone!

It is absolutely impossible for me to rest, never!

I honestly feel that I am involved with Zoey’s care 24/7, like, anyone can contact me at any time with an absolute screw up of their own making and I will deal with it.

Social Care have made so many screw ups it’s just awkward now. Despite the mess they’ve created it’s still the same people making the mistakes who are running the shit show.

One crap care provider after another, each competing with each other to see which can come up with the biggest bullshit to explain why they’re not managing her.

No one, not a one of them, ever has a clue what might be going wrong, it’s sickening. It’s like they are just not there. Sure, they know about the damage Zoey causes in great detail but, not what is actually upsetting her.

You know, Zoey was previously abused by her carers, years ago now. Sadly, any carer who looks like them seems to be a trigger and yet, because looking like them refers to their colour, she is told to just get over it and she keeps getting these triggers but, their hands are tied as they are not allowed to mention this could be a trigger!

I said to them, if she had been abused by a male carer recently, is it OK to say ‘no male carers’ and the social workers said that, of course, that’s OK!

Let’s look at the definition of the groups which cannot be discriminated against:

Oh dear, apparently, gender is included and, as such, social care cannot discriminate about a man but, they say they can.

I wonder, are there any provisions whereby any of the above can be a factor when engageing somebody to work with a vulnerable adult? I would think that, if social care feel a man can be but, someone non white can, there must be such a provision so, is there any workaround?

There are some instances where patients are discriminatory that should be dealt with differently.

These can be categorised under three headings:

  1. When a patient’s behaviours are linked to an underlying condition or pathology e.g. mental health illness, dementia.
  2. When the behaviour is from a legal guardian of the patient e.g., parent of a child or person who has power of attorney for a patient.
  3. When the characteristic of the healthcare worker will affect the physical and mental wellbeing of a patient e.g. requesting a specific gender for a personal or sensitive care, or psychological treatment.

Apparently, there is something which could be used here but, they cannot use it until they acknowledge the previous abuse. Once that is acknowledged they can then state that because a certain characteristic is likely to be a trigger, those who have that cannot work with Zoey.

The bottom line is, for the second time this week, in the middle of the week I am sorting things out which are the responsibility of others because they either do not want to or, don’t know they should.

Friday afternoon, I have another online MDT. I don’t really feel inclined to attend to be totally honest. By no accident it has been arranged just in time for everyone to go home and enjoy their weekend. It is, therefore, really just a tick box thing, we did it and let’s just cross our fingers and hope nothing happens over the weekend.

Anyway, right now, Zoey is under arrest somewhere in Kettering. Because someone employed by social care said she has capacity they had no interest in whether she might need her LPA, they would deal with everything themselves. The phone call was so short as to be rude. Well done social care for that.

There is no outcome from this which is going to be good for Zoey. Everyone was told to do a proper risk assessment, they didn’t. Same as the last lot and the lot before that. This is crisis managment on top of crisis management.

Were I fit and well, I’d be a lot more affective, just now, I don’t have much left to give.


From 8th May for at least 5 days I have to give notice that whilst I might be available for social occasions I am totally out of bounds for any assistance anyone might need.

This includes but is not limited to, driving, IT support, Interior Design, cooking and so on.

I owe it to ‘me’ to take the break, get myself some sanity back!

When I get to the point I struggle to remember my address and fall on escalators, it’s the time to stop!

Marriage and what it means

Marriage Vows

I have strong feelings about this and a reason for why.

My parents got married in the 1950’s I believe. Toward the end of the late 60’s mum developed rheumatoid arthritis and it got worse and worse.

By the 1980’s mum really struggled. Dad wasn’t keen on taking over and mum frankly, wouldn’t have wanted that. However, certain aspects of their marriage had long since ended as mums level of pain rose over time.

On one occasion dad randomly started a conversation about toilet use and during it he made the statement, in front of mum that “to be honest, a good shit has always been better than sex with your mother”. That was his kind of humour but it’s a humour I know mum never got used to and I didn’t also. That comment really upset her.

in Late 1985 mum had to go into hospital. They took her in as much for a complete rest as anything else. However, on this occasion during usual visiting I noticed some weird shit happened with the fuel and mileage of the car I shared with my dad. I would not have noticed had he not begun to complain I wasn’t putting in my fair share. I discovered that each time he visited mum at the hospital and extra 40+ miles got added to the odometer in the car more than the journey actually took. As it kept happening I got out a map and drew a circle covering the additional distance. The conclusion was quite clear, he was meeting someone and not only anyone, he was meeting my aunt, one of mums closest friends.

He just randomly came out with it at Tesco one day when mum was still in hospital. I cannot recall anything relating leading up to him just coming out and saying “So, you know I am seeing Kath, don’t tell your mum”.

I said that if she didn’t ask I would say nothing but, on the contrary, any question she did ask I would answer honestly. Sure enough, within 24 hours she had asked me outright if Dad was seeing Kath. I told her what I knew.

Her heart was broken. She told Dad to go that Christmas of 1985 which he seemed to do willingly moving in with Kath. Some six months after that, after giving up on life, she died at the age of 52.

From that point onwards my life was devastated. Most of my closest family members I lost as they started to take sides. I was deemed to be on Dad’s side just because I had the surname and resembled his appearance. I totally was not on his side so I was just left in limbo right at the start of my own marriage and the birth of my eldest son.

A few years later I did ask Dad outright, why? His response sticks with me and prompts this blog post.

“I gave her the best years of my life, I got nothing out of the relationship after she got ill and I would have got less for murdering someone, I was entitled to a life too.”

Looking at the promise he made to mum, was that right or fair? I can see at least two broken promises and the other was relieved to boast about that she was dead so death had parted them!

Now, we have a friend who is from another country. The man to be her future husband contacted her, was very open with her, gave her all the information of a degenerative condition he had and what it might mean for her but, despite that, she agreed to marry him anyway.

Less than 20 years later she was complaining that he expected too much, wanted her to wash him, sometimes feed him and look after their kids. She left a few times going back and now she has left for good and also washed her hands of her kids neither of which are yet adults but teens. She is proud to boast she called one of them a prostitute for what she was wearing and content that her daughters regularly took over with their dad including bathing when she opted out.

Her parents she says, have turned against her saying she should have stayed and honoured her marriage and, of course, she disagrees, she’s ‘done enough’ which, to me, sounds all too family.

It worries me she has any influence in my own marriage. As my own condition gets worse I am terrified that those like her will persuade my own husband that I expect too much and that the marriage vows do not matter.

Now, to come clean. I used to be married to a lovely lady. I got married because in my life I had been convinced it was my only option. That living a life with respect to my own sexuality was not a choice I was ‘allowed’ to make. I had explained to my wife about my sexuality and I did try really very hard to ignore my dominant side of being gay, indeed, my only side. Eventually we did agree after around a decade to slowly, at our own pace, move away from our marriage. Live together but separate lives. Within 5 years it became apparent that this was not workable and we agreed to divorce. She knows that I remain there for just as I promised. Sadly, this was one of those occasions whereby marriage should not have been an option for us. Glad as I am that it was because of the experiences and the children but, this was not the honest life either of us should have lived and we remain good friends.

Why is it, I have to ask, that people are prepared to spend £10’s of thousands just to say those wedding vows *promises and yet, they mean so very little with them thinking that when the going gets tough, the promises don’t mean anything?

Makes me sad

Marriage and what it means

An emotional time (but I’ll get over it)

Me & Dad at his care home
Dad has been gone for some time now and, despite that we didn’t really get along I am missing him. 
Christmas was difficult as was New Year, both as he had been here the year before and the year before that and we had a good time.
Wednesday 15th is the day his flat is sold. It is the last tangible link to him. He never actually lived there, though that was the intention. His dementia suddenly got very bad and unmanageable at home just weeks before the completion of the sale so we instead got tenants in and used the rental income to part pay the care home fees.
It was a very nice care home, Dad wasn’t happy there but then, Dad wouldn’t have been happy anywhere, that was Dad. 
My feelings right now and all over the place and I have been feeling quite down, it’s like the final goodbye.
I don’t know if you feel like this but somehow I feel different now that both my parents have gone. Sure, part of it is my feeling that it’s my turn next, that generational position in the family, I could do without that but mainly it is that my connection with a huge chunk of my past that perhaps even I don’t remember properly has gone. Not that Dad, bless him, could have been much help on that front over the last years, he barely knew who anyone was. I think he knew he could trust me at the end (last July) but not really sure who he thought I was yet … there were some days when he proudly introduced me as his son … another sign that the dementia was in control as this is something he would never have done when he was healthy!

Dad’s little memoriam area at our place

His mind managed to resurrect many long since dead relatives, I went along with him mostly except when it was obvious he knew that something wasn’t right. It really isn’t fair to remind someone that a person they cared about has gone. Pleasantly he had forgotten that my mum had gone and often used to ask how she was and if I could ask her to visit at some point. He said he thought that somehow he had upset her but couldn’t remember what he had done. That’s really quite sad.

I am confident we made the right choice not to have a traditional funeral. The family is so fractured with so many strong views that we didn’t feel the need to go through that. Both Essex and Northampton did there own thing locally for what felt right for us. Thankfully me and my sister were and are in agreement on how things were handled. We had been through a complicated enough funeral when our mum died with two funeral receptions arranged by different factions of the family. This time we had to get it right as we were not going to get another try at it.
For both of us I feel that the sale of the flat was the final closure for us. It is 6 months after he passed but selling was a little trying!

I am very glad he got to meet Dennis a few times in his final years and they got along, that made me really happy. Of course, everyone gets along with Dennis!
End of an era and I guess 87 isn’t too bad … had he only not left mentally many years earlier.