HWA

Isn’t that really what life is about? Once all the cynicisms are stripped away, all the mistrust, the doubt and the fear of what we don’t understand, the aim has to be for Unquestioning Love?

Well, it is for me and I guess that is partly the theme of today when I had my first counselling session. It is not the first time I have heard someone say so but it is the first I have believed anyone. She told me I had done and am doing an amazing thing, that I am carrying a huge weight on my shoulders and carrying it comparatively alone. I chose to be a dad and remain a dad when most would have taken the easy option and lived the gay life leaving the mother to cope. I have given up a lot for that choice, my freedom, my ability to have true freedom, to love another, to be loved. She said I should be proud of me, hold my head up high and show myself off but, well, it is early days and I cannot see myself feeling that or doing that for some time to come if ever. Part of that is just because right now I don’t see any gain in it. If I accept I am this wonderful person what does that gain me? I feel like a character from the Wizard of Oz and in need of some symbol of my achievements that other guys, even gay guys will see and say “Bloody hell, well done mate” and it means something to them, they somehow value me more but, I can’t see that happen so what use is it?

On the way back and feeling a little emotional I had the radio on and they were discussing a poem and a hymn, one of the ones played at Tony’s funeral and one of his favourites. It made me cry, I just wanted to be hugged by him in those big arms of his and be told it was all OK.

I am not happy with the Chalfont Centre, they have been proving to me that they show no consideration toward family and carers at all, it is really quite upsetting that all they want from me is answers to questions and money.

Martyn and I had a very good time at Ian & Richard’s this weekend. There was an issue that I thought may occur and I was not sure how I would deal with it despite what I had said. In the event, I was fine and it would have even been enjoyably memorable had I not been so utterly pissed.

If I am honest and, this is my blog so I have to be, I got too knackered with all the driving over the weekend it did spoil some of the enjoyment for me. Part of that was the desire to have some tender moments of one to one with Martyn whereas all I really seemed to do was sleep and I suspect, well, hope, that Martyn too was just as knackered. There were certainly times when I could have done with a lot of personal physical attention yet it was not going to happen. The trouble with all the driving is how much I was left aching, anything physical I did really did hurt but that’s me, I will always do what I am capable of doing until I am not capable any more. The weekend was good but just a bit of a blur and now it is over and I am feeling a little empty and unfulfilled and it isn’t really anyone to blame, just the way things happened.

Calais was great yesterday once we eventually got there and would have been better had customs not decided to ask loads of anal questions in Dover.

One special mention I want to make:

The one dog I ever found myself attached to died on Sunday after a short illness.

Gershwin was a very loveable bundle of fluff and always greeted me when I arrived and just stroking him often got me over some of my blues and he was so gentle. I know Robin will miss him terribly but I think it is important, even for a ‘dog’ that others also loved them and will miss them now they are gone. Gershwin, Unquestioning Love. Sleep well little fella.

Isn’t that really what life is about? Once all the cynicisms are stripped away, all the mistrust, the doubt and the fear of what we don’t understand, the aim has to be for Unquestioning Love?

Well, it is for me and I guess that is partly the theme of today when I had my first counselling session. It is not the first time I have heard someone say so but it is the first I have believed anyone. She told me I had done and am doing an amazing thing, that I am carrying a huge weight on my shoulders and carrying it comparatively alone. I chose to be a dad and remain a dad when most would have taken the easy option and lived the gay life leaving the mother to cope. I have given up a lot for that choice, my freedom, my ability to have true freedom, to love another, to be loved. She said I should be proud of me, hold my head up high and show myself off but, well, it is early days and I cannot see myself feeling that or doing that for some time to come if ever. Part of that is just because right now I don’t see any gain in it. If I accept I am this wonderful person what does that gain me? I feel like a character from the Wizard of Oz and in need of some symbol of my achievements that other guys, even gay guys will see and say “Bloody hell, well done mate” and it means something to them, they somehow value me more but, I can’t see that happen so what use is it?

On the way back and feeling a little emotional I had the radio on and they were discussing a poem and a hymn, one of the ones played at Tony’s funeral and one of his favourites. It made me cry, I just wanted to be hugged by him in those big arms of his and be told it was all OK.

I am not happy with the Chalfont Centre, they have been proving to me that they show no consideration toward family and carers at all, it is really quite upsetting that all they want from me is answers to questions and money.

Martyn and I had a very good time at Ian & Richard’s this weekend. There was an issue that I thought may occur and I was not sure how I would deal with it despite what I had said. In the event, I was fine and it would have even been enjoyably memorable had I not been so utterly pissed.

If I am honest and, this is my blog so I have to be, I got too knackered with all the driving over the weekend it did spoil some of the enjoyment for me. Part of that was the desire to have some tender moments of one to one with Martyn whereas all I really seemed to do was sleep and I suspect, well, hope, that Martyn too was just as knackered. There were certainly times when I could have done with a lot of personal physical attention yet it was not going to happen. The trouble with all the driving is how much I was left aching, anything physical I did really did hurt but that’s me, I will always do what I am capable of doing until I am not capable any more. The weekend was good but just a bit of a blur and now it is over and I am feeling a little empty and unfulfilled and it isn’t really anyone to blame, just the way things happened.

Calais was great yesterday once we eventually got there and would have been better had customs not decided to ask loads of anal questions in Dover.

One special mention I want to make:

The one dog I ever found myself attached to died on Sunday after a short illness.

Gershwin was a very loveable bundle of fluff and always greeted me when I arrived and just stroking him often got me over some of my blues and he was so gentle. I know Robin will miss him terribly but I think it is important, even for a ‘dog’ that others also loved them and will miss them now they are gone. Gershwin, Unquestioning Love. Sleep well little fella.

That has to be one of the crapiest experiences a person could have putting their child in a home.

We had a long wait for the doctor sat next to the main callbox where some young girl was pouring her heart out to her mother about how upsetting it all was and how one of the other residents was upsetting her and it just went on. Eventually the doctor found time to see us yet we waited in his office for a good 10-15 minutes whilst he finished his chat with a friend, it certainly didn’t sound like a call he couldn’t have got out of.

Next we started an hour or so of questioning, all the sorts of questions that they could have asked in advance, that I could have brought with me but I had to try and remember loads of really vitally important stuff from memory. When did Jermaine get diagnosed with diabetes? When did seizures start? When did the seizures stop relating to the diabetes? What medication was he first given for epilepsy and then which one after that and what was the reaction of each? This was after I had to run through from birth up to about 12 in great and ever increasing detail, all stuff that was in his notes from the hospital had they bothered to ask for them. Sue had to ask if they wouldn’t mind us having a drink!

From the doctor we went to see the building and Jermaine’s room and needed to suggest to them that time was getting on, maybe we could have some lunch? They made up some sandwiches which were horrible plain things and a little dry. Jermaine’s pre lunch bloods were 3.6 and by the time he had eaten a sandwich gone down to 2.4. They had put all his medication away so no dextro or hyperstop, they had to go to pharmacy to get one by which time we had got some from the car.

During lunch the entertainments guy came in and started lots of questions as to what Jermaine liked to do, what he would do, what he could tolerate so that went on for an age. Then, we took his clothes to his room but Jermaine was in thumping mode by now sick of sitting around getting bored for hours no doubt.

After lunch it was yet more question that majority of which we had already been asked, you know, things like ‘address’. That was bad enough but then it because obvious that her English was so bad she needed every word spelt out to her several times and she was still making mistakes … Northampton is, apparently, spelt: Northhamden. The questions became more and more anal. Even though we had already said several times that everything needed to be done for him they were asking if he was OK making a hot drink himself or doing the ironing? We’d already established he couldn’t dress himself but they asked if he could iron. Then there came a point where I still don’t know how I didn’t walk out … she asked about his continence issues and she was told he was in pads and was doubly incontinent. She then asked: “Didn’t it ever occur to you to try and potty train him?” Both Lucy and Sue both jumped in and suggested another topic and fairly quick like. From thence on I had no time for the woman and just took Jermaine to his room as he was falling off the chair in the dining room and no one seemed interested in that little detail.

I was hoping to get a little time with him to say goodbye properly but the bitch followed me and started asking what he had for breakfast, when he had it and whether he had a bath or shower and whether this was before or after his breakfast. I kinda snapped and just told her to look at the notes she had already made, I needed some time with my son.

I tucked Jermaine into bed because he was knackered, a hugged him a little and told him how much I loved him, kissed his head and he fell asleep. I still don’t know how I walked out of that room and less still without crying.

My proper transition time with Jermaine settling him in and at least allowing him to feel like it was his home was taken away from me but pointless questions and red tape. It’s a lovely building but they need to do way better than that for me to be content Jermaine is in the right place or that I can trust them.

I really appreciated Pete calling at one point, it helped calm me down at a time when I was getting really uptight.

That has to be one of the crapiest experiences a person could have putting their child in a home.

We had a long wait for the doctor sat next to the main callbox where some young girl was pouring her heart out to her mother about how upsetting it all was and how one of the other residents was upsetting her and it just went on. Eventually the doctor found time to see us yet we waited in his office for a good 10-15 minutes whilst he finished his chat with a friend, it certainly didn’t sound like a call he couldn’t have got out of.

Next we started an hour or so of questioning, all the sorts of questions that they could have asked in advance, that I could have brought with me but I had to try and remember loads of really vitally important stuff from memory. When did Jermaine get diagnosed with diabetes? When did seizures start? When did the seizures stop relating to the diabetes? What medication was he first given for epilepsy and then which one after that and what was the reaction of each? This was after I had to run through from birth up to about 12 in great and ever increasing detail, all stuff that was in his notes from the hospital had they bothered to ask for them. Sue had to ask if they wouldn’t mind us having a drink!

From the doctor we went to see the building and Jermaine’s room and needed to suggest to them that time was getting on, maybe we could have some lunch? They made up some sandwiches which were horrible plain things and a little dry. Jermaine’s pre lunch bloods were 3.6 and by the time he had eaten a sandwich gone down to 2.4. They had put all his medication away so no dextro or hyperstop, they had to go to pharmacy to get one by which time we had got some from the car.

During lunch the entertainments guy came in and started lots of questions as to what Jermaine liked to do, what he would do, what he could tolerate so that went on for an age. Then, we took his clothes to his room but Jermaine was in thumping mode by now sick of sitting around getting bored for hours no doubt.

After lunch it was yet more question that majority of which we had already been asked, you know, things like ‘address’. That was bad enough but then it because obvious that her English was so bad she needed every word spelt out to her several times and she was still making mistakes … Northampton is, apparently, spelt: Northhamden. The questions became more and more anal. Even though we had already said several times that everything needed to be done for him they were asking if he was OK making a hot drink himself or doing the ironing? We’d already established he couldn’t dress himself but they asked if he could iron. Then there came a point where I still don’t know how I didn’t walk out … she asked about his continence issues and she was told he was in pads and was doubly incontinent. She then asked: “Didn’t it ever occur to you to try and potty train him?” Both Lucy and Sue both jumped in and suggested another topic and fairly quick like. From thence on I had no time for the woman and just took Jermaine to his room as he was falling off the chair in the dining room and no one seemed interested in that little detail.

I was hoping to get a little time with him to say goodbye properly but the bitch followed me and started asking what he had for breakfast, when he had it and whether he had a bath or shower and whether this was before or after his breakfast. I kinda snapped and just told her to look at the notes she had already made, I needed some time with my son.

I tucked Jermaine into bed because he was knackered, a hugged him a little and told him how much I loved him, kissed his head and he fell asleep. I still don’t know how I walked out of that room and less still without crying.

My proper transition time with Jermaine settling him in and at least allowing him to feel like it was his home was taken away from me but pointless questions and red tape. It’s a lovely building but they need to do way better than that for me to be content Jermaine is in the right place or that I can trust them.

I really appreciated Pete calling at one point, it helped calm me down at a time when I was getting really uptight.