Social Workers. Don't you just love them? Some are excellent, but others have no empathy or kindness. I have one who, quite frankly, I can't even be bothered to talk to any more. We had an update session recently when she criticised me because I dare to shout at my partner, Janet, when I'm trying to get her dressed. It's a battle to get Janet to put her clothes on the right way round and not inside out. She fights every inch of the way! Yes, I lose patience and shout at her. This woman declared that it was inappropriate for me to dress Janet and a carer should do it. This idiot should try and live with Janet for a week and see how long before her patience snaps. Janet does not want to go into a CH and I've always promised her that it would be an absolute last resort Now this woman haughtily tells me that SS will do what they think is best and what Janet wants doesn't matter. Over my dead body, lady!
I'm sorry to whinge on, but this has been making my blood boil for days now. As if my life isn't hard enough already. I need support, not sniping at my efforts. It's me that has to mop the bathroom floor because Janet mistook the waste bin for the toilet. It's me who has to get rid of used toilet paper in the bin because Janet decided the paper would block the loo. It's me who has to clean up the kitchen because she peed in the waste bin by mistake. It's me who has the disrupted nights. Janet is the great love of my life and I'll fight for and with her until my last breath. But this social worker....sitting there with her clipboard and checklist, making copious notes. I picked up a voicemail yesterday from her, asking if I wanted to talk about respite. Only from you, madam!
Thanks for allowing me to blow off some steam.
David
I'm sorry to whinge on, but this has been making my blood boil for days now. As if my life isn't hard enough already. I need support, not sniping at my efforts. It's me that has to mop the bathroom floor because Janet mistook the waste bin for the toilet. It's me who has to get rid of used toilet paper in the bin because Janet decided the paper would block the loo. It's me who has to clean up the kitchen because she peed in the waste bin by mistake. It's me who has the disrupted nights. Janet is the great love of my life and I'll fight for and with her until my last breath. But this social worker....sitting there with her clipboard and checklist, making copious notes. I picked up a voicemail yesterday from her, asking if I wanted to talk about respite. Only from you, madam!
Thanks for allowing me to blow off some steam.
David