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1 August 2012

Posted by DMC on 2 August 2012 in Diary |

Another, drama last night. Around 3.30 this morning I wake up with a very painful hip. I immediately called out the name of my night carer, who should have been sitting a few yards away. However, after receiving no response I tried to find the alarm button. Unfortunately, I was lying on my back at the time and my arms were under the blanket and they were so weak that I could not get either of them out in order to grope for the alarm. I had no choice. therefore, but to yell as loudly as I could through the respirator. Of course, I had absolutely no idea what was the time. It could have been that the night carer but had gone home and had handed over to, Alice, in which case I should just have to lie there until such times as she looked in to check on me.

Then suddenly I heard a noise and listening carefully it became obvious to me that my night carer, sitting a couple of yards away, was dead to the world.
The noise I had heard was a loud regular snore!. I continued yelling out her, name under the mask, hoping she would hear. Who could say, she can go on sleeping like that for another hour or two, whilst I was trapped by the bedclothes and totally vulnerable.

Ultimately , the carer did here and when I complained that I had been calling out for half an hour she snapped back in and said I had not. I then realised that this night carer was of an uncertain temper and in my totally vulnerable position in no way should I upset her. Had I done so heaven only knows what the outcome would have been.

It doesn’t take a vivid imagination to envisage pushing an unstable person over the top. After all the patient has no idea what is the background of the night carer provided.

There is a contract, presumably between Essex County Council and the company, who tendered for the work. What sort of check the Essex County Council carries out on the staff to be provided, I have no idea.

One reads about the odd nurse who flips and systematically bumps off her elderly patients. I suppose it was the tone of the carers reply, when I suggested I had been yelling for half an hour or so, that alerted me to the possibility of an unstable person. This was all in a fleeting moment and realising I had to placate the carer I mumbled something about ‘I expect I was dreaming’ and the carers voice softened and I realised that the worst was passed. She resumed her duty and turned me without further ado.

The following morning, when the carer had gone home. I explained what had gone on to ‘my lovely’. Like me, she was adamant that we could not use this particular carer again. On a humane level. I felt very sorry for the carer. I have absolutely no idea what is her background but I suspect that she works during the day and therefore has very little sleep. In this regard I felt very sorry for her but nonetheless we both agreed we had no choice but to ring the office of the company providing her and to explain why, under no circumstances, why she was never to be sent here again.

In fact, later in the day, I received a telephone call from this particular lady, who seemed surprised that we did not want her to come again. I did not go into any detail with her other than to confirm that we did not require her services now, or in the future.manner

Apart from that rather alarming start, the rest of the day went smoothly enough. We had Peter, my stockbroker. down, from London, for a laptop lunch, whilst we discuss my various investments. Peter, who was sensitive to my condition, ordered his taxi for 1.55 but, even then, the couple of hours I spent talking to him had drained a lot of my energy and the rest of the afternoon, and evening, I did very little between resting and watching the Olympics on television

Coming back down to earth after that flights of imagination,¬†all of ¬†those ladies who consider they are’ golfing widows’ should click here.

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