Tales From The Crypt - Thursday 17th March 2022

Lots of things should happen today: expecting a call from a GP about whack-a-mole; new monitor courtesy of my employer is due for delivery; E and son #1's medication are due to be delivered; expecting a call from the nursing home regarding E's respite.

First off, before even getting showered, is booking a shopping delivery slot for when we arrive on holiday in April.  That's done, after an initial scare, which is excellent news - the plan is slowly coming together.

Walked again first thing, and again exceeded my 30 minutes target. It's a glorious morning if a little on the chilly side.  It's interesting to see all the surfaces dusted with a little Saharan sand after yesterday's yellow sky phenomena.

Had an enjoyable chat with Q, as always and then we both had to start work...

Spoken to the GP and she wants me to bring my head and 'mole' in for examination, though not until the 7th April. She asked if I'd like it removed and I said yes, assuming it can be, as I guess my concerns are less about cosmetics, to be honest. I should also note that I assumed she meant the 'mole' not my head. I know a joke about that.

Late morning the monitor arrived, though I can't install it as I have to completely reorganise my desk to fit two monitors, plus a laptop. I don't think I'll have time until work finishes on Friday evening, at the earliest.

Courtesy of a wonderfully kind friend E and son #1's medication is delivered which means I can quickly go to the post office between calls to send son #1 his meds special delivery to get there tomorrow.  Thank you for making that possible, I really appreciate it.  As luck would have it the trip to/from the Post Office also coincides with Q's lunch break so we manage a couple of quick chats. Bonus!

The day wore on and still no word from the care home, so I call them.  At last! The person I originally spoke to answers the phone and I finally get to the bottom of things. It turns out that the care home are waiting on social services raising a purchase order before they'll schedule an assessment, though she reassures as me (as much as she can without me knowing it's all agreed) they will accept E into respite.

Next step, call social services and find out WTF is going on. I leave a message for the duty manager and wait, twiddling things. Duly the duty manager (who isn't called Julie) calls me back and it's a sorry tale, which boils down to the fact that the finance team, presumably to make their lives easier, wanted to raise one request for money covering both care and transport. Unfortunately South Central Ambulance service won't accept bookings until 31st March for dates in April, so they can't get a quote, and hence can't raise a single request for budget.  The woman I spoke to has said she'll try and separate budget request into two - one for care and one for transport, which should allow a PO to be sent to the care home and them to then book an assessment of E.  FFS!! It reminds me of the bad old days in the earlier stages of E's bed bound life when I had to coordinate every single thing because no one talked to each other. AAAGGGGH! Of course, I do want the finance team to have an easy life, heaven forfend that they should have extra work to do that they are paid to do.  In the meantime I'll just sit here quietly going up the wall.

Work's over. End of tether is receding, at least for today.

This evening I am going to my yoga teacher's farewell tea and chanting session (I don't think we'll be chanting 'Who ate all the pies' in case you're wondering) before she bids the UK farewell and begins a new adventure in Morocco. A brave and exciting move.  Best of luck to her. She has helped me change my life in the time since I took up yoga in 2018. Much love and respect.

Home to dinner prepared by son #2, then 'Outlaws' an early chat with Q, who is very tired, and then clearing up and sleep.

Widowspeak / 'Drive' / 'The Jacket'

 

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