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.


  1. Having recently had a short stay in hospital, and not being allowed to get out of bed for the first 30 hours, I do know what it is like to be dependant on others to enable one to go to the toilet! (And having Prostate problems this was a very frequent event!) All the staff were, as usual, very busy, and my frequent requests for a bottle seemed raher insignificant in a neuro ward. But it is still very frustrating to have to wait! So don't feel guilty, Stephen. If they had given you a time they should have been able to keep to it!

  2. Stephen,I never would have thought I'd laugh at someone else's misfortunes but find myself laughing out loud at yours!!!I adore your sense of humour!! xx

  3. Where the heck do they find these people??? You would have thought that the nature of the job would have been in the job title 'Carer'. I'e. somebody who cares??

    Ah well, as you have quite rightly said, it's all fuel for the bloggers pencil.

    Love to Polly and have a VERY Happy and Heathly new year good buddy.

    God Bless

  4. Hi Stephen,I've been reading a lot of your blog and I wanted to contact you to thank you for your insights and bravery in sharing this God forsaken disease. My name is karen, I'm Dani's mom. I havr done every thing emotionally from screaming at God to crying, to anger at her father and it made not one bit of difference. She's much more acepting. Now I ask for a miracle for everyone. Stephen, I thank you. I don't think she feels so alone. She's my hero. Please keep writing and I'll keep reading.
    If you would like, email me, I'm always here.


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