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 shit happens on the conveyor belt that I hadn't anticipated. I'll have to find out when my crystal ball comes out of repair. The fact that I lose an hour every other day because a certain person is always late is something I take into account, okay. It annoys me because I have angry carers with me practically every other day - not because of anything I've done, but because of her - but that's fine. Even I explained that to her. Will anything change? I don't think so. The baby 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 Yugoslavian mentalities are still stuck deep in the 19th century. Damn, I can think of another excitement. Well, maybe for the next calendar week. It will be published tomorrow anyway. Unless something 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 carer said something to you every shift that started with „Don't you remember?“ when it was simply inappropriate. And inappropriate. 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.
„Like 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 neither faecally incontinent nor do I have any sensory or perceptual disorders. Unlike my carers, who can easily manage a double-digit number of toilet visits per shift. This week's newcomer is... drum roll... in 7th place and is so absurd that I don't want to anticipate anything.
- Cover me up, strip me completely naked and „clean“ me in bed with surface disinfectant, then soap me from head to toe. And let me freeze for two hours until the washing is ready. More on this? You can find it here: Basic care
- To serve up one of the most implausible old wives' tales I've ever heard to a surprise visitor who enters the flat with his own key on a Saturday morning. Of course he didn't drink the can of Jackie Coke. Some completely retarded person threw it in the rubbish and now the whole flat smells of it. He took it out of the rubbish to rinse it out. More on this? You can find it here: The insensitive sick person.
- „I need a little whisky from you now.“ (he said, ignoring my dimenti and emptying the bottle by the end of the service) More on this? 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 I was told by the care counsellor at my care service. You can find the whole story „O'zapft ïs!“ here 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 that powder you call ice cream, you need a straw to drink it.“ (this 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 idiot) 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.
