The one about the ‘Magic Moments’

Hands up who remembers the song about ‘magic moments’, which graced a television advert or two some years ago? It might be a cultural reference which is UK specific. I have been thinking a lot about ‘moments’ recently from different things I have seen, and read. One is an e-book, another a blog post, and another, a campaign led by a daytime television programme here in the UK. Each has expressed a similar sentiment in different ways.

What is wrong with ‘take a moment’?

I think, judging by the success of the latter, this sentiment about seizing, or making the most of the moment, is having a ‘moment’ in the spotlight. I say this in part because our government has seen the bright lights of the’ popular vote’ and declared that for every ‘moment’ of their time This Morning show viewers give to someone in need (it if is then recorded on the show’s website) our government will donate £5 to ITV’s Text Santa campaign. They are asking for 50, 000 moments, which means a lot of donated money by the government, which sounds good in theory…This morning are doing this to celebrate their 25th Anniversary which asks views to select their favourite moment from their 25 years of the programme.

I am sorry that I sound such a cynic, but in my opinion the above is nothing but a gimmick. I get that the government’s donations to ITV’S Text Santa campaign will do some good, but instead of the Government donating this money to charity, I would rather they dedicate this money to supporting poor and vulnerable children and families in the long-term, and by safeguarding the services they rely on, rather than cutting or dispensing with the services they dependent on altogether. As ever, the Government is giving with one hand, and taking with the other, while those they are supposed to help suffer. So much for the ‘Big Society’ which ‘Dave’ (Cameron) was formerly so fond of.

The other major flaw I can find with This Morning’s ‘Take a Moment’ campaign is that by volunteering to help, the public is giving of their skills, time and talent temporarily rather than on a longer-term basis. This is ill-advised for a variety of reasons. If an older, ill, or disabled person needs help with a particular task, they are likely to need this more than just once. Therefore, to only help once smacks of tokenism. Additional benefits of offering help on a longer-term basis are, that vulnerable people are less isolated, vital in an age where families are fragmented from estrangement, geography or being time-poor. It also gives families surrogate grandparents, aunties, and uncles, while teaching children of the necessity of, and value in helping those in need, demonstrating kindness, compassion, and how to share what they have with others.

Why ‘moments’ matter…

Though I have expressed cynicism and found much to criticise ­­­­­­in the first part of this post I see much value in another aspect of the ‘moment’ – making the most of every single one of them. This is something I am coming to value as ever-more important, the more limited my energy seems to become. It has taken me multiple attempts to write this post as I keep falling asleep, or being unable to concentrate. In the times I can however, my Twitter friend Lou’s post on making the most of her time while she waited for her baby to be born really spoke to me.

I have a choice here. I can believe that as I am in a transition, I have nothing to offer until I become a mother or I can do all I can, as I can right now. I don’t want to miss out by rushing ahead. I don’t want to miss opportunities that I will not get to have again.

On my bad days, in pain and exhausted,  is easy for me to believe that I don’t have anything to offer, however this is not how my Heavenly Father sees me.  I too have opportunities that I should grab before they go. Other things I am reading at the moment are encouraging me to make the most of the little things, and to find adventure where I may not have seen it before. Normally, I try to do useful things in my support time, however, as a one-off, I went to see a movie with my main carer. Something I would not normally watch. We had junk food lunch, which I try not to eat normally, and popcorn, and settled down to watch the movie. ‘Rush’

Time (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

directed by Ron Howard, is about the rivalry between Niki Lauda and James Hunt during the Formula 1 season in 1976. I love human interest stories, which this was, and the sense of danger in the movie just made it more exciting. I definitely recommend it, if you haven’t already seen it! By trying to find the things I can do to vary my life a bit, I am trying to make the most of my time. I’ve been inspired to do this by the sense of adventure in Wendy Van Eyck’s e-book Life, Life, and More Life, which s­­­­he wrote after she and husband Xylon found out he had cancer. They made a conscious decision to make the most of whatever time they have:

The reality is that life doesn’t wait for me to be ready before good and bad things happen. In the midst of life happening around me, in hospitals and on holiday, I’ve realized I can embrace life. I can live fully, and I can live without regrets.

Again and Again I have found nuggets within Wendy’s writing which not only encourage and inspire me to live a Godly life in the midst of my own messy life, but also teach me about the faithfulness of the God I serve and his unfailing love for me. I urge you to check out Wendy’s blog, if you have not already done so ( I am trying to find other ways to make my restricted life an adventure. The next of those was hydrotherapy with Community Physio, tattooed and pink haired carer, risk assessor … basically a hoot from start to finish. The next several hours of ‘moments’ will be spent comatose continuing to recover from hydrotherapy yesterday! Night night!

With every breath…

Today’s daily prompt:

Who’s the most important person in your life — and how would your day-to-day existence be different without them?

I am wary of repeating what I have already written on this subject, as I have already written recently both about having no significant other (yet!) and how important my Gran is to me. Then, of course, there are the/my carers. Without them, there are some days I would see no one, and other days I would struggle to get out of bed. The other people I don’t think I have mentioned are my parents. There are other posts where I may not have mentioned them, but without them, I would not have achieved what I have. Their sacrificial, unconditional love would be the envy of many.

Were I to lose either or both I would miss them with every breath. I need them in a different way that other people need their parents. In some ways I still feel quite dependent on them, being single and disabled. This also means I do not feel as grown up as I might, with a significant birthday approaching. What I do manage, at the moment, is to live independently thus far. Time, my health and the actions of local and national government may yet change things. I don’t wish to talk to much more about my parents as I do not wish to embarrass them. However, they have done much for me and continue to do so. This includes te way both of them live out their faith and the example they are to me. As I’ve said, were I to lose either of them, I would miss them with every breath, every moment of every day.

Two stories, one theme: The Welfare State

English: A typical credit card terminal that i...
English: A typical credit card terminal that is still popular today. visanet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The title says it all. A somewhat un-sexy subject, but one very much in the news at the moment, and in the days to come. This week, two stories really affected me for two reasons, first, interest the arguments involved, and secondly, because both may have a direct impact on me in the future.

The first: Welfare ‘credit-cards’

This is one that sounds simple. A good idea in theory to some; much loathed and feared by others. This week in the Guardian I read an argument for and one against against the introduction of benefit payments by ‘credit-card’. In conjunction with universal credit, these cards would contain all of a person’s benefit payments on my card, in my case at the moment, Employment and Support allowance (ESA) and Disability Living Allowance (DLA). Every-time I bought something, it would show up on the card. What about places that don’t take cards?

Another concern for me, is that as each transaction could be itemized as on a bank statement, there is the potential that someone could see all of my transactions, and potentially make decisions on whether purchases were necessary or not, and if that was someone with the authority to do so, potentially limit my spending. This is a fear expressed by both Ally Fogg in his article for the Guardian this week, and by Tentacle Sixteen in his blog post.  Items such as Sky TV are  as luxuries to many, for the likes of myself, these things are a lifeline I can ill afford to lose. I spend much of my time indoors, and so spend a long time using wireless internet making purchases I would be unable to do in person for all sorts of reasons including, lack of energy, not enough care time to have someone with me, an inaccessible shop (Hobbycraft for one…). There is the updating of this blog, and so on, including social media. Not to mention the articles I write, between other things, which give me a purpose, and something meaningful to talk about when friends or others ask me what I fill my time with. Again, this to me is a lifeline. I very much rely on my friends. I have basic television and broadband subscription  but spend more on telephone and mobile (I’m sure you’ll understand why, if you’re a regular reader…!)

Also, what about larger purchases? This laptop is dying, as is my ‘spare’ wheelchair. Both are very much necessities  It is already hard to save up for these things, as savings are penalized if above a certain level. When DLA is replaced by PIP of course it may become impossible to make those savings in the first place. Who’s to say what is and is not necessities  If the washing machine, a smaller model to fit under lower work-tops and three times the price (at least) of an ordinary machine, bye-bye new laptop and essential assistive software.

Next we come to a thorny issue, which I have already touched on: privacy. Will all the purchases be visible by another person, and what if the card is lost or stolen and accessed by another. What about the risk of fraud too, if only a pin number is necessary. It will, according to some, also identify benefit claimants as such, many already under pressure from increased discrimination as it is. Claudia Wood, also writing for the Guardian this week, takes a different view and argues cards would cut, not increase this stigma.

For a fuller discussion of the issues at stake, visit Tentacle Sixteen’s blog post, and or the Guardian articles from this week, which I have linked to, above.

Story Two: The ‘Bedroom Tax’

ITV news last night (Fri 1st Feb) featured this issue and spoke to a number of claimants as they expressed their fears better than I can. It refers to Housing Benefit claimants considered to have at least one more bedroom than they need. Money is deducted from their benefits as a result, about £14-18 a week or £600 a year.Some of the people being hit really are most vulnerable  and ought to be protected, such as Claire. She has severe cerebral palsy, requires round the clock care, and has constant spasms, requiring her partner to sleep in the room next door, enabling him to be fresh enough to care for her the next day.

However, as Claire says, they will be forced to share a bedroom again. This has increased her partner’s migraines, rendering him unable to care for her, and them having to pay out for more care, relief carers for Claire which the couple can ill afford. Given the government’s attitude on similar issues, I find it difficult to believe they would realise the enormity and impact of such a situation. The government reply to this, was it’s tough, but tough decisions have to be made, and people should just get on with it. Sounds a valid argument, but yet more pressure heaped on the heads of people all read pressed in on every side. Remember the ‘compassionate conservatism’ mentioned by ‘Dave’ at the Conservative Party Conference in 2012??!

This is not a situation that now affects me, however, were I to need live in care in the future, on an ad-hoc basis, or be married and have a partner/carer unable to sleep because he’s being hit and kicked, or affected by problems with my bag, it doesn’t bear thinking about! My heart goes out to Claire and her partner. I just hope this Government sees sense before it is too late.


To tweet, or not to tweet

When I started writing my blog I resolved to keep it as realistic to my life as possible, which meant the good the bad, and the stuff in between. It also means, not over-exaggerating things, and thinking before I tweet, or post! I am sure most of us are aware by now of the tendency a lot of people have to over-share, in part I think due to the false sense of intimacy that one can often have. We tend to forget about things like targeted advertising, which is when Facebook sells our info to advertisers, so that their ads get to the right people. Also because we are writing things down, perhaps it feels just like writing a letter or an email, but more people than just the friend(s) it was intended for read your updates, tweets, and posts. With all of that to think about, and perhaps a lot I’ve left out, how do we document what really goes on in life, especially with things like disability or chronic illness without being so negative you drag people down with you, or so polished that people think everything is ‘fine’ all the time?


‘One of those days’

Today was one of those days where I think, “how did I ever do all ‘this’ on my own for three years?? ‘This is getting up, a shower, getting dressing changing my stoma bag breakfast, taking my medication, getting ready to go out. Sounds simple enough? Try adding in it being ‘one of them mornings’ like everyone can have sometimes, plus the idiosyncrasies of an ill/disabled body, and all the aspects of having care, and there’s one toxic mix.

The morning started fairly well, as I got myself out of bed, with only a bit of crawling from bed as gingerly as possible. So far so good? Wrong! The (stoma) bag had ripped overnight, even though most of it had drained into the connecting night bag, meaning the ‘day bag was almost empty. Have explained all this to ‘specialist nurse’ who says it’s ‘just’ a manufacturing fault and I should use the other batch of bags. Sorry but I need every last one! This is also the only system I can use because it’s the only one with a night bag suitable for use with my type of stoma, when it’s likely to have to cope with undigested food and all the rest without getting blocked. So to do anything about the bag is a losing battle, unless I win the lottery… in which case I will commission the best in the country to deign me a bag for my type of stoma which is thin, durable, flexible, and kind to skin, as well as sticking to it, and has an accompanying night bag system than can come with my peculiarities. 

None of this being an option, we had to deal with what was in front of us, so we changed all the parts of the stoma bag before I showered. Unfortunately, the bag refused to stick, so we had to start over. This combined with other issues, meant my carer call was longer than 2 hours, just for a ‘morning call’ when I am only allocated an hour and a half! Obviously, I was utterly exhausted after all this and relieved to have a break before I went horse-riding. I started writing this, and got myself ready to go out. This means plenty of planning ahead.. a healthy lunch, that I can successful digest, plus my medication dispenser fondly known as the “UFO, my plastic beaker, and all the rest of the ‘stuff I can’t go anywhere without.

Today, transport went surprisingly smoothly — result! This time I used a social enterprise company. The only firm that will drive me the two miles while I’m in my electric wheelchair. Any other refuse, or I have to use a ‘normal’ taxi with my little manual chair, which makes me completely dependent on others. Having got to the social enterprise where I learn with no incident, it was time for my ‘team’ to swing into action. The woodwork shop have made me beautiful steps, complete with handrails to help me get to the ex police horse without being lifted like before (health and safety ‘MARE as I’m sure you’ll appreciate/! Now my friend helps me climb the steps and supports my trunk enough to stop me falling, while someone else drags my leg, now rendered immobile, over the back of the saddle, while someone else keeps the horses head still… mission accomplished!! Loved it today… was almost tropical weather, beautiful views, and great company. Me and the ‘team’ got me back into my chair without incident as well, which is an absolute JOY given how painful it was before. Don’t get me wrong, it is flippin’ painful now, but at least there are less steps in the process and less risk involved — HURRAH!

I ate my healthy lunch, and socialized without incident, making it home with home with help from the social enterprise again. So far so good… now to get on with this blog, writing for something else and catching up with things. I was totally wrong! I spent most of the afternoon waiting for the district nurses to arrive to help me with the bag. No one knows what to do about any of this as I am all out of options. As I sat here now, the bag the nurse(s) put on hasn’t stuck so my stomach is covered in my lunch or dinner. I am refusing to look. My skin around the stoma is already red-raw and throbbing so it’s unlikely to get better from this wither. Feels like a wasted afternoon and evening. I have between 30 mins and an hour to get more productive things done, starting now! Wish me luck… I think I might need it!

Introduction to the realities of illness and disability…

Blogging, but only just…

I’ve been wondering recently, how much of a readership I have left, given how sporadically I have been posting here. In an ideal world, I’d love to post every day, and started out with intentions to do so. Unfortunately, the realities of life barged their way in. I’m beginning to try to wrestle my life back, but it’s best to start from nowhere. If I don’t expect anything, I might just surprise myself! I’m sure everyone living with illness or disability, or both, in my case .will have a vastly different experience.  Let me try to explain why, and what some of this means for me.. This post also answered today’s daily prompt

The same name, different realities…

Certainly, both levels of illness and disability, or one or the other, can vary for some people from day to day, from week to week, and from person to person. Two people with the same’ disability or illness, and even something which manifests itself in similar ways, will still experience it differently. I know someone with cerebral palsy, who up until and including the time I knew them, by their own admission, had never experienced a day’s pain in their lives. I know people with cerebral palsy who have asked me what a spasm is. I also know people with cerebral palsy who can do far more than me before they hit the same level of tiredness, and who are not ‘ill’ beyond the standard colds and flu and whatever. However, I am thankful that I do not have some of the other traits of cerebral palsy, such as epilepsy, or a significant learning disability. The closest I come to a mild learning disability is that my level of spatial awareness is too poor for me to be able to read a map or to learn to drive. I live my life within a restricted geographical area and am happy within those boundaries. Cue panic if I even have to step outside those.

The medical part of the illness…

There are aspects of my disability I can ‘control’ by the way I manage it. Other things, however, have a life of their own, such as my ileostomy bag. I had a meeting yesterday to talk about the management f it, and it turns out I can only use one particular bag cause of requiring a ‘high output’ bag overnight… There are hundreds of styles of ileostomy bags and different pieces of kit, and it’s typical of me that my needs only half-suit one particular system. Those things are very definitely out with my control, and can become incredibly frustrating.

There are many other things out with my control such as what time I get up, and go to bed, how tired I am, how much pain I am in, the affect this may or may not have on my speech, my mood, and my quality of life. The more ‘needs’ you have, the more professionals, and agencies, and clinics you need to allow into your life to help you manage aspects of it. Often it is only about management, not cure. Each person often only sees their part of my care in isolation, so for example, there is a brand of painkiller than would help me manage the shortness of my gut, in a small way, but this has a horrendous affect on my fatigue, and does not manage my pain in the most effective way. There is a treatment I am having to manage other symptoms, but that again, is not a cure, and surgery not an option. Neither is surgery for a reversal of my ilestomy. So I have had to learn to accept these things.

There are some things I can accept, and indeed, even some tings I can ‘relax’ about. I am learning to ‘go with the flow’ even. For example, I am learning not to be a control freak over what food, and brands of food, is in the fridge, to mind the way the washing is put on the airer, or to mind the way my hair is dried. I am learning simply to feel relieved that I can often have these things done for me, thus saving energy I either don’t have, or energy I can use for other things. There is also of course, lots I am still learning, like finding things that can increase or decrease my levels of pain, however small those things are, such as ‘gentle’ (!) exercise at the gym, a nap, or full on sleep in the morning. I think for me, morning naps work better than afternoon ones! All of this said there is still much I wish I could do. Just getting through every day seems to take so much energy.

This was the week that…

So far this week, it’s been unusual in that I didn’t have a ‘sit’/PA-type time on Monday. Plenty of time for a blog post, and article, and a couple of other things? Wrong!

Carer C arrived in t flat right on time as usual, only to disappear just as quickly having been called away to another client who cannot get themselves out of bed. She helped me to sit up, and then left me in bed, with chronic back pain. Bless her, she returned as quickly as she could, did some of her duties and was about to get me washed when someone pressed the entry button on the intercom. Here was the nurse…! A few minutes later, the morning routine resumed. Having found something suspect about the stoma, I sat repeatedly calling my local surgery for an emergency doctor’s appointment, which, thankfully, I got. All of this done, there was the morning gone… indeed time slipped by until 2pm, by which time I’d had enough and phoned a friend. I did get a break in the afternoon as I went off to have afternoon tea with a friend. Now I thought, I could breathe a sigh of relief. My main key holder arrived later to help me put my newest medication in the U.F.O (noisy, spaceship shaped automatic medication dispenser connected to a call centre. Unfortunately, as my friend/key holder explained, the call centre is unhappy about how much medication I seem to miss. Cue upset from me, a long discussion, and trying to find yet more strategies to help me cope with another problem. Lovely of said key holder/friend to intervene though. Went to bed thoroughly exhausted, however, this was the kind of start to the week that impacts on the rest of it…

The rest of this week has just flown. Tuesday was a hospital appointment, plus a blood screening, and a sleep in my wheelchair in the afternoon, and evening. I knew Wednesday would be no different. Each of the first three days of this week have been ‘busy days for me. Almost more than I can cope with. Together, absolutely more than I can cope with. Just one of those days in a week can be enough for me! Wednesday was an early care call, after which I tried and failed to get some writing done before I went to my friend’s house for the fortnightly Women’s group. A quick lunch, and a meeting with a district nurse (DN) manager, the Community Stoma Nurse, my Joint Care Manager (the NHS version of a social worker), and  Carer C, with a lot of verbal input from me. If I was exhausted before, I had absolutely no energy now! A curry, a rest, and I trundled off to lead the prayer meeting, sounding surprisingly awake. However, all of this effort also involves what is called “Payback Fatigue”. I suffer a lot of this. The more I can pace my week, doing things at a slower, equal pace, and in an organised way, the better. However, this is something I am still learning to do, and is by no means the whole solution. By today then, I was floundering. I woke up with my stoma bag having burst, and went back to bed after Carer C helped me complete my morning routine. I woke only to see the nurse, and fell asleep again. Having woke up when Carer C arrived to do the sit/Pa time, we decided I had enough energy to go to the gym. Make no mistake, I am no fitness fanatic. I can manage a couple of machines, and a few specialist machines which help with gentle stretching of sore muscles. This was enough to send me off to sleep again. So frustrating. So much sleep, from so little activity!

So, what about the rest of the week?!

I wrote half this blog before sleep, and half afterwards. I fear that after reading this, I will have put most of my readership to sleep! I have written it to try to illustrate some of the frustrations and complications, as well as some of the lessons that come with living from long-term chronic illness and serious physical disability. I feel there is a lot of ignorance in general among the government, as well as the public as to the everyday realities of living with such things, to say nothing of the economic consequences. I hope to get some more constructive things accomplished in the next few days, but only time will tell…

Get ready for work: what woman who needs constant care was told | Society | The Guardian

The Mind boggles:

HOW could an ATOS medical have declared this lady fit for work? It’s just horrifying. Surely she should have been exempt from a medical, having qualified by gaining 15 points on the first question that asks how your disability affects you, or in this case how it affects the person who the benefit is being claimed on behalf of?! Even if that were not the case, one look at Ruth says she’s not capable of work! Here’s the link to the article, and interview with Ruth’s mother:

Get ready for work: what woman who needs constant care was told | Society | The Guardian.

“I am blaming the system that allows people with disability to be targeted, to be made to feel as if they are a burden on society” (Ruth’s mother).

This should NEVER happen again, BUT…

It’s incredibly heartbreaking to watch the video.  Ruth should be betting the best of everything, not being held ransom to unrealistic targets. Anyone with two brain cells can see that surely? Kudos to Ruth’s mother for remaining dignified throughout the interview with the guarding, and for her love and compassion for her daughter. She too, should be helped and supported, not subjected to further demands. How has this government got it SO wrong? I don’t want to say too much more and detract from Ruth’s story. It is one that deserves to be heard, and acted upon urgently so that nothing of this nature happens again. However, I fear the people who most need to listen are the last people who will.

the joys of being ‘cared’ for….

To blog, or not to blog…

I have no idea whether the subject about which I am writing is often blogged about or not. It certainly has an image problem, as Lawrence Clark suggested in his recent blog for the Indy’s notebook. It is also something which concerns all of us. Someone (I can’t remember who) made a comment to me recently about paying their taxes towards it. I much prefer those jokes to news articles shouting about how much it costs (or will cost) the nation in future years. There have also been articles written about problems within the industry, such as the low wages for long, difficult hours, high staff turnover, (3 staff trained partly for my specific needs are about to vanish!) and lack of organisation. As I do not wish to get any person or organisation into trouble (or indeed myself) I shall not name anyone who is currently working ‘with’ me. I say with, because not only do the best ‘carers’ care a lot, there is also, for me a sense of being in something together, and with the very best ones, copious amounts of banter. Take this morning, for example….

Another morning, with another bugger

Carer A is someone I am incredibly fond of because I like them as a person and because of the startlingly good job they do. I shouted through if they wanted the good or bad news, and they said no news … that I should wait while they prepared themselves (for the headlines). Little things, but makes a big difference. I asked them what they would do when they leave, that they would miss me. They wouldn’t be able to tell anyone they were ‘bloody useless’, for example. His reply, that he would ‘find another bugger’. This is how the morning progressed. The difference it makes however, is huge. I am starting the morning with a smile on my face and a giggle in my throat. As opposed to concentrating on the pain or discomfort, or how hungry I am because I started a d-i-e-t today!!

Thankfully, they don’t all move on to better and brighter things…

Carer B is one who is not leaving, with whom I have similar banter, and who is likely in the coming weeks to moan about having too many hours with me because so many others have buggered off. With whom I will have coffee ‘alfresco’ and catch up on our news after her holiday. A cross between a friend and a carer. A difficult tightrope to walk (or wheel). One who I am happy to introduce to my friends and who all my friends love too. I do not think she gets paid nearly enough for the privileged. As she says, she should get paid at least double for the misfortune of working with me!

‘PA’s’ or ‘carers’?!

Another debate is one for disabled people themselves, whether to employ their own PA’s and struggle to find staff or to have a care agency come in, and all the associated pitfalls. Martyn Sibley is a prolific blogger who has written about this same subject. He chose to have PA’s as it gives him more choice and flexibility. In a ideal world, this might be the route I would prefer, but having had PA’s I’d rather at this moment in time not to have to deal with the paperwork, which makes me feel lazy. Actually though, I’d rather use my energy for other things. Which means, I only have flexibility with the better carers, and I only have banter with the best of them … before they leave. Unless they have dependent children, in which case, they need flexible hours and have no choice but to stay.

It doesn’t take a genius to realise that, (to use another cliche) the current government are shooting themselves in the foot. To truly provide for our future needs, we should invest, invest, and invest again… in more pay, better conditions (such as the abolition of ‘zero hours’ contracts) and in better training in order to attract (and keep!) the best staff for the long term. As it is however, carer A is leaving to work in a branch of a well-known pizza restaurant because it pays more money than care work. Honestly, how is that ever right, even in a recession, that pizza makers are valued more highly than care workers?! Surely this perfectly illustrates why we have some of the problems we have? The world and his uncle (or Auntie) has opinions on this subject, and so here are mine! Am off to enjoy my one day without ‘afternoon care’, a ‘sit’ or ‘respite’, whatever-the-heck-you-choose-to-call-it.


26th August 2012

An aside … to do with the leaving of bread(cake) on roof of car…

Carer C and I were playing a game of sorts today trying to come up with all the things she would and wouldn’t miss about our job. She reminded me of one of her highlights! How could I have forgotten that last week, we made bread and the next day I asked her to take however much she wanted with her. That day, as she was leaving, she put the bread on the car roof before she got in the car… only for some local teenagers to stop her and yell about the ‘cake’ on the car roof. She said the look on their faces is one she’ll never forget. This story is one I’ll never forget. I have as much banter with Carer C as I do the others… and I will miss her much *sob*