Sorry about my care.

Firstly, apologies for the tardy blog.

In my last blog I explained that things had been hard so here goes for an insight into caring. When you think that nothing else can come in its way it really does with a tonne load of shit!

So, what can I say life has got in the way in more ways than one?

A job change, another kid learning to drive (now passed), dogs and a husband and kids that need attention (not in that order) not to mention holidays etc but sometimes we have to stand back to re-evaluate and recalculate the things that have been going on.

So, let me bring you up to speed on dad. He’s not good. In fact I would go as far as to say he’s fucking awful. There is no point jazzing it up for you readers but he’s bad. Confused beyond all belief in an understatement. He believes that I am out to get him and whilst it transpires that this is quite common it is superbly hard to take.

Yes I don’t deserve it but I know, and it kills me inside, that deep down he doesn’t know what he’s saying to me even just after he’s said those awful words. Only today as I went to visit my son on his birthday he called me to tell me that he is waiting to die and wants it to end… what on earth od you say to that because I am the only one that he speaks to like this!

What am I to do. Leave him be? Believe me it’s crossed my mind and joking aside on my loyalty points to heaven, I just can’t. There is just me.

Last month however things took a whole new spin on the situation. One that I did not see coming whatsoever. I was literally side swiped and for me to admit that is bad. If you want stress I am the one who can take it all in her stride. I have a real ‘fuck it’ attitude. My husband always says that if you want something doing get Lucilia to do it, she’s not fazed by anything but this time I was fazed for sure. Speechless in fact.

So of late I have been called every name under the sun and been accused of everything from stealing to abandoning him. I have had the tears, the multiple suicide threats and let’s not forget the poo that I have cleared up too.

I will now take you back to December.

Social services called me. They wanted to speak to me about a ‘sensitive issue’. I will be honest that with dads history my immediate thoughts were where the fuck has he got porn from or has he touched the carers and not taken no for an answer but it was me they wanted to question. They offered me a meeting in just over 2 weeks and after a bit of digging with the lady at the other end of the phone it appeared that it was for stealing. To say that I was dumbfounded was an understatement.

It’s not often that I am at a loss for words but after some tears and good stern ‘pull yourself together Lucilia’ I emailed them and demanded a meeting that afternoon. To my surprise they agreed to meet, needless to say that my less than friendly email post the call probably did the job as I don’t mince my words in the first place.

I had relayed the events to my husband in between my bouts of tears and I say this because albeit I have emotional Tourette’s my tears are always of joy and not of sadness. He stated that he would accompany me to the meeting.

So off I go with my husband as my witness.

By this stage I had calmed a little but I was yet to work out how dad had made such accusations when his English is now close to useless.

It transpired that they have a duty of care to visit dad without me or my knowledge. Now rewind a little to recap even if you do read my blogs, but I have a full POA for health and wealth. Yet visit him they did. How did you manage to talk to dad I asked… oh that? We took a translator! Of course they did. So all the appointments that I have attended with dad not to mention the time out that I have taken to do so has been for what if they can now provide a translator?!

I queried where this accusation had come from and was told that at our last meeting where I had directly translated that dad says I steal from him all the time and that then apparently, was the red flag. Albeit he’s accused me of stealing his clothes only for me to show him his huge walk in cupboard with them all there for him to reply ‘oh what is all that and when did that cupboard get put in as I have never seen it before’.. you get the idea he’s losing his marbles somewhat!

So dad had told them that I had been stealing from him. They went to visit him when they knew that I was out of the country on holiday, in fact on the day that I left with said translator! He also stated to them that he owns 3 properties which he rents out and I pocket the money from?! To say that the situation is laughable is an understatement. I was cross. Cross with social services for seeing dad without my knowledge. I know that with hindsight I can see that it was not a personal attack on me or my care that I provide but that’s how it felt. How can anyone who can mumble incoherently in a language hardly anyone can understand, who can no longer dress themselves, who soils themselves regularly and can’t fathom how to cut food be believed for his mumbo jumbo accusations?! But believe him they did and they, it would appear, have a duty of care to interview me on record.

The meeting finally came to an end as we were going round and round in circles. Once I came home I thought long and hard about the madness of the whole situation not to mention the wasted hours on the part of social services. They made it clear at the meeting that not everyone who cares does actually care but as I asked them have you ever seen me do anything other than love and care for my dad. Sure he’s not ‘dad’ anymore but I don’t stop caring even when he calls me the daughter of a whore one of my all-time favourite nicknames of late!

So I was angry. I was hurt. To be expected I guess but the meeting was on the records of social services who still did not want to believe me. Imagine if I was the partner of a person being accused of such things. I would want my life to be over.

Later that evening I wrote to social services to make an official complaint. I have recused the case worker that dad had stating that she must never ever set foot near my father again. I requested a new case worker only to be told that there is none… so once again we are on our own. Before the complaint case was closed I asked them who I should contact if we needed help… I was told that we would simply be put back in the queue.

As my husband says ‘if you want something doing ask Lucilia’… just me, my emails, my calls and my patience again now then.

What’s the saying.. what doesn’t kill you….



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