What the hell do you know?

Today was a stressful day. Period. Believe me it was. Yes, I know, here he goes again bleating about this and that. But , tell me what would you do in my position?

A stranger walks into the room, with Sophies Nurse, the Home manager, Sophies Occupational therapist, and then for the next 2 1/2 hrs proceeds to ask questions about her medication, care, night routines, equipment, what she can do and cannot. She religiously writes all this down, says thank you, and then says I must meet my client (Sophie). She walks upstairs with me into Sophies room and says “Hello Sophie”, I have come to write a report on you and all your needs for the future. She then tenderley strokes Sophies hand with one outstretched finger and has a look at the wheelchair and leaves. “I’ll send the report to your solicitor”.

Sophie looked decidedly unsure but smiled. I mean we don’t mention these things in front of her, and she was probably thinking, what wheelchair?, what hoist? why do I need a wet room?

You have to restrain yourself, but you do end up thinking “What the hell do you know”? This person now carries Sophies whole future in what she writes in her report, how does she know what Sophie wants, what her likes are? Why should she tell us that we HAVE to have 2 carers when we think we only need one or vice versa?

To have your daughters future life being taken care of by a bunch of people who have letters after their name does call into question a few ethics, as knowing the client your supposed to be looking after, and having their best interests at the forefront of any future planning.

How can you have those best interests at heart if you met them for 5 mins, is this the new speed dating for client/partner privilege?

All Sophie wants is home and her old horse – Bert