An update on Gemma’s world.

So, I’m gonna give you all a little peek behind the scenes of Gem’s world.

Over the past week I have been dealing with District Nurses going rogue and thinking they can tell me what to do with regard to my son’s continuing care.

I just want to place a caveat here right now, I have been doing the over and above normal parenting personal/medical care of my son for 30 years. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I get 14 hours a week off to do as I please. That’s two hours a day. I use that time to do housework, accounting work, mosaicing and writing. I don’t always manage to secure the full 14 hours. Just sayin’.

My son is 30, he is still rocking the shit out of life because I have made sure he gets the best care and attention he can get, I insist on it. It is his right as a human being to not have to accept second best just because he’s disabled and reliant upon assistance from others for basic care needs.

My instructions regarding house visits from anyone to do with the medical profession are simple. You phone me first and make an appointment that is convenient to both parties. Only one person to attend, not one and a trainee. I don’t get paid to train people, they can do that on their own time. That rule is more important this year than ever before, I think they have forgotten the world is currently gripped in the claws of the worst pandemic in almost one hundred years and as a species, we are dealing with it badly. Very badly.

Low foot fall into my home ensures my son remains as safe as is possible during this dangerous time. It’s not a strange time, it’s dangerous and deadly and these people need to stop thinking they are immune to covid because they are wearing a ppe outfit when they come through my door. They could be carriers, we know nothing at all about covid that is useful enough to warrant unnecessary visits for information that could be given over the phone.

So last week, a new District nurse (DN from this point on) decided she would override my instructions re house visits and called unexpectedly, not just her, she brought a trainee. I had nipped out to do essential shopping. She managed in a very short space of time, to stress my son out so drastically, he experienced a number of epileptic events later in the evening. That means I did not get any sleep that night.

I spent the remainder of last week on the phone with various officials and heads of departments pointing out the fuckwittery that had abounded from a member of their staff.

I thought it was sorted, I really did, but this is my life, the DN’s turned up again yesterday, were duly denied entrance because they had not made an appointment, nor will I tolerate two of them in my house. My position on this is crystal clear.

I look after my son’s pressure sores along with any other personal care he may need, there is a dignity issue to be addressed, he deserves to be able to preserve his dignity. I am more than capable of dealing with 99% of anything that his health chucks at us, I am also not too stubborn to stand down and ask for assistance when it’s beyond my ability to fix what’s gone wrong. I am reasonable, practical, efficient and completely professional when delivering his obs, medical history when required and all other pertinent information to a medical ‘professional’ and at this point I use the term professional very loosely.

I am an expert in the field of caring for my son. That’s it, not the whole world, just my son.

I will be speaking to the head of the DN’s later this afternoon. A meeting, in my home, socially distanced of course, ppe’d to death but that man may never be the same again after this morning’s fucked up third visit without an appointment from the same DN who decided she is a new broom sweeping clean and things will be done her way from now on. She all but uttered those words, in a voice so loud and strident she managed to stress my son’s assistance dog out who was circling Son’s wheelchair in an effort to protect his ‘Daddy’ from the mad woman screeching at the door.

I am in a towering rage and I have not been off the bloody phone all morning. How she got away from here unscathed is anyone’s guess but is possibly more to do with my own self preservation than her ability to dodge bullets.

Someone is getting three new arseholes ripped this afternoon and I know where to hide the body where it will never be found.

That’s the tip of my particular life iceberg right now, that’s at the pinnacle of the stress mountain I live with.

I needed a little rant.

I’m all good now and breathing calmly, the flames have receded and my resting bitch face is no longer on instant death stare. I’m not sure it will stay at amber. Wish him luck people, he is going to need it in buckets.

    1. I’m never down for long Dave, there is always a way to level every playing field. I’m a warrior when it comes to my son, I’m always prepared for a battle but I usually win them too. 😘

      Liked by 2 people

  1. I’ve always said don’t mess with a momma bear, good for you though. Sometimes we need to advocate for ourselves and our loved ones because to a lot of medical “professionals” we are just a number and they know everything there is to know. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you rip into them. They deserve what’s coming, no one has the right to order you around in your home and tell you how they will manage your son’s care.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thanks Storm xx
    The fly on the wall has been scarred for life and is in need of strong counselling to overcome the trauma, both the fly and the head DN will be attending their first session together next week. I have told them I will come and look after them both with a fly swat for the fly and a huge sticking plaster to cover the two new holes the head DN is now sporting. They thanked me kindly and did a sharp exit left.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Maybe I should just raise my skirt above my hips, bend over your knee and wait for the first stroke of leather to sound loud in the room as it lands flush against both creamy globes.
      I gasp, you giggle, you can’t maintain stern, you raise your arm and the strap as I wiggle my bottom to prepare for the next stroke as you bring it down firmly once more, now a groan, not a gasp, the throb from the first stroke is blooming. You find your mark once again with the third stroke perfectly placed just above the sit spot and my legs scissor as I yelp loudly and race to cover my throbbing cheeks with my hand to defend the now tender globes from the next stroke.
      You grip my hand with yours and pull it out of the way as the fourth and the fifth strokes are delivered filling the room with the sound of leather against soft twin globes glowing deep dusky pink, and the yelps and cries as I give myself up to the inevitable painful throbbing as the blush turns to heat as the 6th stroke is delivered fully and heavily across both hot red cheeks and I sob and I plead for no more.
      You’re a softie, you stroke my cheeks with your hand, mmmm, (sorry got distracted) smooth the heat, massage it outwards enabling the bloom to run freely beneath the surface, then pat my cheeks and allow me to stand.
      I move to stand in front of you, watching you balefully as my hands rub my cheeks and I dance on the spot.
      You are naughty Nora, and I will get my own back, I promise! You laugh at my discomfort and walk away wiggling your delicious bottom at me as you leave the room.
      Bad Naughty Nora, giving me images, your turn is coming I promise! πŸ‘πŸ’₯βœ‹πŸ˜‰πŸ˜‹πŸ˜˜

      Liked by 2 people

    2. Well. That was a nice read!!

      I’m glad you stood your ground! I’m glad that you were finally heard. It’s crazy when people who are theoretically in the helping business don’t listen to their patient or see the damage their own actions are having on others. It’s a perverse form of selfishness.

      Liked by 1 person

    3. Why thank you Michael, she sure does deserve it, did you see what she did to my bottom? She made it so red and sore, and with a strap! Then walked off laughing…. shocking behaviour!

      Liked by 1 person

    4. As for the rest of it, well, these people who learned how to shout at patients while telling them about how they can’t have the product that works for them because it costs too much, while sticking an equally expensive dressing on a sore that won’t heal, should stand back and think before they pick on the wrong one.
      The picked the wrong one this time and it’s cost them dearly. πŸ˜€

      Liked by 2 people

  3. I was just about to respond to a comment when it disappeared. Not sure if I did something or you removed it, but I would have put you anywhere from 35-45. Likely closer to 35. I think you’ve posted selfies haven’t you? I really am surprised you have a 30 year old. Stay safe.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I don’t know where it went either, it’s not in the comments trash, spam or anywhere! I can only assume it’s gone AWOL for some bizarre hitherto unknown hiccup in WP land. Yes there are selfies amongst the pics I post, there are a number of different ones that are me in all my glory, but some are from a few years ago, some are recent and some are cropped beyond recognition and are just body parts now, even I’m not sure which ones may be mine!
      I adore that you think I am around 35-45 I will say, I have aged rather well must be all the hot sex I’ve enjoyed in the last decade, it’s kept me young and relatively fit!
      Stay safe too my lovely friend!

      Liked by 2 people

  4. You go Mamma. You protect that baby of yours. I don’t know you that well but it was refreshing getting to know you better. It was also not really a surprise to hear you stood your ground. You go!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you MJ, I think there can’t be many ‘medical professionals’ who haven’t had a run in with me over the years. Maybe they don’t pass on the information about me because they use it as training for their staff these days? If they can survive a run in with me, they get to keep their job? Who knows, I don’t take prisoners, or suffer fools at all, one has to feed and look after prisoners, fools are just a bloody nuisance I can well live without. Better off disposing of them in a manner designed to lessen their suffering and put me out of their misery.
      All is well now and the DN’s have returned back under the stone from which they first crawled.

      Liked by 2 people

    2. You remind me so much of my own mother in that regard. I can’t count the number of run ins she had with medical professionals over my care as a child. Keep fighting the fight. God bless.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you David, this mama bear is very tired after a stressful weekend with the fallout from the DN’s destabilising my son’s epilepsy. All good now, but no sleep at all on Saturday evening. These people create the need for mama bear syndrome with their short sighted stupidity.

      Liked by 1 person

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