Actually you should be beaten for that
Previous issues
Week 20: MDK assessor
Week 19: Care service
So much for preparing posts to ensure some degree of regularity. Not that I haven't done that. And it's not as if I'm currently working on around 20 contributions, which should be of great interest to a great many people in need of care in general. Or maybe they are?
But some shit happens on the conveyor belt that I hadn't anticipated. I'll have to find out when my crystal ball comes out of the repair shop. I calculate that I lose an hour every other day because a certain person is always late. It annoys me because I have angry carers with me practically every other day - not because of anything I did, but because of her - but good. Even I explained that to her. Will anything change? I don't think so. The child fell into the well months ago. While I only hold grudges when I feel like it, her colleagues can't, I'm afraid. Again, no offence, but ideologically mentalities of Yugoslav origin are still stuck deep in the 19th century. Damn, I can even think of another excitement. Well, maybe for the next calendar week. It will be published tomorrow anyway. If nothing unforeseen happens, of course.
Just when I want to go further, the next upsets happen. Am I getting too excited?
What would you do if a special caregiver said something to you every shift that started with "Don't you remember?!" where it was just inappropriate. And inaccurate. But that's a story for another day.
Only today again, just now. As so often, he runs against my eye control, clicks something with his elbow and moves the tripod. He looks at the screen, and even though it's absolutely something private, he starts reading. How do I know that? Well. His question follows in a very reproachful tone.
"How did June. Have you forgotten that? That's May on your screen. Look, didn't you see that?"
Saying of the day from my caregiver for the day today.
So. I'll break off at this point and call exactly that one. The last mask straightening was more like this. Not only do my lips look like I'm a Kardashian, but this muzzle pulls my cheeks and songs together so blatantly that the eye contouring keeps swallowing letters. Because it loses my eyes. Oh, another case for the hit list. Although, this happens so often, a better idea would be a gallery with mask-fails. And again the next idea. Stop now. Happy calendar day. #anspielung #zynismus #ironie (This one is damn sophisticated, sorry, but so profound and clever, I couldn't help it)
So, let's get down to business. What has to leave us today is the constantly checking to see if I have pooped in the nappy . Even when I have visitors, I say that I am not bowel-incontinent, nor do I have sensory or perceptual disorders. In contrast to my nurses, who easily make a double-digit number of toilet visits per shift. This week's newcomer is... drum roll... in 7th place and so absurd that I don't want to anticipate anything.
- Cover me up, strip me completely naked and "clean" me in bed with surface disinfection, then soap me up from head to toe. And leave me to freeze for two hours until they have finished the laundry. Read more? You can find it here: Basic care
- To tell the surprise visitor, who enters the flat with his own key on Saturday morning, one of the most implausible old wives' tales I have ever heard. Of course, he didn't drink the can of Jackie Cola. Some completely retarded person threw it in the rubbish and now the whole flat smells of it. He took it out of the bin to rinse it out. More about that? You can find it here: The insensitive sick person.
- "I have to have a little whisky from you now." (he said, ignoring my dimenti and emptying the bottle until the end of service) Read more? You can find it here: Inventory Olé
- Leaving me in the shit for over an hour, because night duty comes shortly and I'm so stressed that my own coffee is more important. I would have loved to use the time to clean myself up, because my three friends who are visiting are having dinner in the dining room. I really don't need to have my ass wiped when my friends are sitting next to me. Read more? You can find it here: Shift, change.
- Finding a syringe filled with cloudy liquid by the sink and wanting to give it to me via the PEG without knowing whether it is a tablet, cleaning agent or something else.
- The MDK assessor comes to the conclusion that no care-relevant issues are to be expected with my ALS. I have this in writing.
- I would have to have a PEG inserted. Because then I could be mobilised in a wheelchair and pushed out onto the balcony, because living in bed has no quality of life. That's what the nursing consultant at my nursing service told me. You can find the whole story "O'zapft ïs! here. Be that as it may, this is not only presumptuous and impertinent, but, as I said at the time and as I have living proof today that I have a PEG, it is factually wrong. The opposite is the case. Since the PEG, it has become impossible for me to get up because of the pain. But what do I know? It's only my body.
- "With the powder you call ice, you need yes a straw to drink that". (was about the crushed ice I bought for my carers for the premium brand drinks and alcoholic beverages I also bought for my carers).
- "I never took anything home, just empty bottles for crafting." (apart from the fact that empty bottles are also my property, no one drank from them except you, you moron) More on this? You can find it here: Inventory Olé
- Going out onto the balcony with a coffee and a cigarette and throwing it over to me as I walk by, saying he's sorry, I'll get my coffee in a minute. But he's so keen on a cigarette right now. Read more? You can find it here: Shift, change.
