Tuesday, 6 January 2009

The Healing Power Of Homecare

One of the best things about writing a blog is that when strange or exasperating things happen to you you at least have the compensation of thinking that it will make for an interesting post. I've been thinking this a lot recently.

With Godfrey off ill and Kalapo in Nigeria I've been left with a team of stand in carers. I've mentioned Abby and Carlotta previously. They are sweet women with minimal English who bicker and panic their way through each evening and morning call. Carlotta, who is a devotee of some Japanese spiritual enlightenment movement has taken to holding her hand a few inches from my body and transmitting healing energy in to me. She assures me it doesn't matter if I believe or not which is probably a good thing because I'm pretty sure that any heat that I am supposed to be feeling is coming from the mug of coffee I'm drinking than from any form of science defying psychic energy. Abby is becoming more and more irritated to find her colleague standing over me apparently doing nothing. Carlotta hisses that Abby must not know what she is doing because she is not a believer.

Yesterday Carlotta went back to school so she will not be coming so frequently. She says she plans to visit family in Paris next weekend and promises to bring me back some French cheese. As I said, very sweet; it's just a shame she is is mad as a box of frogs. Carlota's replacement is Lola, a rather surly woman who seems to begrudge having to make evening calls, telling Polly she expects me to be ready to go to bed at 8:30. She can expect what she likes.

Meanwhile, Lola is being taught the ins and outs of my homecare by Abby who barely manages to remember her own role, let alone someone else's. As a result I spent several terrifying minutes dangling over the toilet yesterday while the two women randomly pressed buttons on the hoist remote control before calling for Polly to come and sort them out.

Oh, and just in case you think my days are any better, Polly is off learning to be a clown doctor again and the district nurses have been organised to come to help me go to the loo sometime between 2:00 and 2:30pm. It's now 3:15pm and there's no sign of them. If I knew for certain they would definitely turn up I'd be in half a mind to wet myself just to give them the extra work.

Thank you for reading.

P.S. They arrived at 3:25pm, very apologetic. Now I feel guilty.