Its almost five years since I came out of hospital and needed carers to help me at home.
When I was first told that I would need carers I thought it would only be until I adjusted to being at home. I was also very nervous about who would come and how I would be treated, as you hear so many negative reports about carers in the media.
From the very start I was lucky. On the first day home, a girl called Jane, came to me and we got on straightaway. Jane came to me for almost two and a half years, on and off, and we still remain in contact today. Sadly, she no longer works as a carer but is now at University doing a pharmacology degree, after which she intends to return to her native Uganda, and start a chain of pharmacies.
Over the period of Jane coming, she was supported by a number of other people. Mary, was Jane's friend who had come over from Uganda with her, and she would come at odd times. Natalya, was a lovely little girl, who was pregnant when she first came to me, and she still comes occasionally, and she is always giggling and good fun.
For about 6 to 8 months a lad called Jason, came to me in the mornings. Jason is about 6 foot and probably a good 17 stone plus, and was in his early 20's when he came. Although he was such a big lad, he was very gentle and caring. He would catch the first bus from his home every morning to be here for 6.00 am to get me up. We had a common interest in sport, and especially in Crystal Palace FC, so we would spend our mornings chatting about the sport from the day before.
However, there was one girl, who wasn't so good. Her name was Jackie, and she was supposed to come to me to get me up. The call should have been about 7.00 am but her timing was very erratic. It was nothing for her to turn up at anytime from 7.00 to 9.30 am, usually without any real excuse. The only day you could rely on her being on time was a Sunday, when she wanted to get her round finished so she could attend church. Every Sunday, she would be here at 7.00 on the dot.
But the worst thing about Jackie, was that you never knew what she was going to be like from day to day. She was never what I would call a happy girl, but some days you could barely get a word out of her.
She only lasted about 3 weeks, and then she decided she didn't want to come any more. I could have cheered when she told me.
Although in the main, the boys and girls who came to me were very good, the agency that supplied them had lots of problems. The administration was very poor. They never really seemed to know which carers were doing what or when. They would make appointments to come out and conduct reviews, and then not turn up, and seem surprised when I phoned and asked what was happening. But worst was the fact that they never told you if there was a problem with a carer coming, or is a carer was off, who was coming in their place.
However, things really came to a head, when the owner of the agency was arrested and charged with raping two of the young girls. During the court case that followed, it became clear that he was bring girls over from Africa, and then using them to work as carers for the agency, without any training. He would provide accommodation, but basically everything they earned, he would keep to pay for this. And then he was sexually abusing the girls.
The agency folded as soon as this all started to come out.
For a few days another, local, agency was employed to send carers, and although they were very nice and professional, they did not have any carers who could come to me before 9.00 am in the morning.
I was then changed to the agency that currently supplies my carers. This was in January 2011.
Margaret has been coming to me pretty much constantly since that date, although there may be some other girls covering the odd call or the very occasional periods when Margaret is taking time off.
The great advantage of having a regular carer, is that you get real consistency of care. We both know what we are doing and how we are going to do it, without having to say anything to each other. We can have a chat, and a laugh, whilst we just get on with the job in hand, without having to think about it. We have built up a good personal relationship, and Margaret understands why and how I want things done, and is prepared to spend time allowing me to do things on my own, because she knows that this is the best thing for me.
I still have other carers come to me and again they are very good.
However, I did have one lady come to me for a few days, first thing. Her name was Debbie, and she must have been in her early 60's. She was a nightmare.
Being a carer is a physical job, and you need to be fit and strong. Margaret is very strong, and when she has to help move me, like getting me out of bed, she does it very easily. With Debbie, it was almost too much.
She smoked and her clothes and breathe reeked of it. Other carers who smoke, come in chewing gum, so the smell isn't on their breathe but Debbie would pull up in her car, smoking, and the come straight in, smelling of cigarettes.
She couldn't multi-task. If you were having a conversation, if Debbie was going to say something, she would stop working to talk, and then continue with her work when she had finished. This meant that what should have been a 45 minute morning call to get me up, showered, dried and dressed, ended up taking over an hour.
But the final straw came when she was going to pull my trousers up, and grabbed hold of the waist band at the back, and yanked them up, and at the same time dragged the engagement ring up the skin on my bottom. This ring had a nice big stone in it, which not only ripped her glove, but also ripped the skin on my bottom.
She never came back.
Sadly, again, although the girls who come out are very good, the agency and how it treats both its staff and clients is very poor. I am very rarely told if there are going to be changes to my carers, or if there is a problem with a carer coming. If you complain, you get the impression they aren't really interested and frankly it doesn't change anything.
But its worth putting up with the agency, to have such a good carer as Margaret.
However, a couple of things recently have really annoyed me.
A few weeks ago, Margaret was off on a Monday morning. She had said to me she wanted to be off but wasn't sure, but that the office would inform me. They never did.
So at 6.00 am on Monday, I heard a key in the door, and someone let themselves in. Next thing I know, a girl who I had never meet before is stood by my bed, telling me she is my carer for the morning.
When I spoke to the office, they couldn't see the problem. So I explained that a complete stranger had just let themselves into my home, and had come to stand by my bed. How would they like that happening to them or to a member of their family.
Then one of the girls from the office phoned up about coming out to conduct a review. Rather than asking when would be convenient, she told me she would be coming out the next day. As it happened I was going to be out, so I told her I would not be there. This seemed to confuse her, and she said she would call back, but has never done so.
But what has really annoyed me recently, is that last Sunday, the office phoned me to tell me that Margaret will no longer be coming to me in the mornings. There is no thought that she has been coming for over two years and that I might not be happy about losing Margaret, its just that they want to re-organise some of the rounds. I can adjust quite easily, and in fact the girl coming on the week day mornings, Augusta, I know and am quite happy with. But some of the older clients, particularly those with conditions like Dementia, will be really upset with the change. For them consistency of care is really vital, and Margaret is such a good carer that she will be really missed by these people.
To me it shows the lack of consideration and respect, that the agency has for its clients. They don't think about their clients needs or dignity, its all about what is best for them, in the office. All to often this is the attitude taken by agencies.
Rant over.
Yesterday, I discovered another piece of equipment that I use, which I had missed from my previous blogs about equipment.
I got up yesterday, and found that my big toe on my left foot was bleeding - God only knows what I must have been doing in the night. I went and got it dressed by the nurse at my local surgery and was advised to keep it dry.
So in order to keep it dry I use a Limbo Waterproof Protection sleeve. These are available to go over wounds, dressing or casts, on legs and arms - but probably not heads - so that you can still shower, and even bath, without getting the wound or dressing wet.
Limbo Waterproof Protection
These come in various sizes depending on the size of the wearer and there are even sizes of children.
They are very effective, and when I was having pressure bandages on both of my legs for about a 10 week period, it meant I could still have a shower, knowing that I wasn't going to get the bandages wet.
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