Helping is better than being helped

Helping is better than being helped

My mother is now bed bound because someone who has never even met her decided that her perfectly adequate chair was unsuitable for her.  Now someone else who has never met her is supposed to come around to the house to determine whether the chair is suitable, until then she is trapped in her bed.

This is because the consultant, who has never met me, decided that my mother was too heavy for me to carry and decided to force me to accept help from teams of carers, who are not willing to take the health and safety risk of putting her in a chair on the days that she is well enough.  On top of this, she is to spend all day in a position which makes it easier for them to change her when they come in, which hurts her back.

Today I caught one of them asking if she would not prefer to be eating rolls and sausage than her raw diet.  She can do this if she wants, but if she does she will have to be put back on the surgical grade antacid and the laxative, she will be in further pain which warrants a painkiller, and she will be confused because the medication does that.  When I explained this to my mother, she decided she would rather continue on her raw diet.

When a hostile nurse explained to me that every decision was now to go through social work, I declined any further input.  Why are we having ten people involved, when my mother has previously done very well with only one person, I asked? She immediately became very frightened and did not answer.

The bottom line is, because I have had help forced on me, my mother’s quality of life has actually declined and we are at constant risk of input from morons who don’t actually care about her well being any more than they care about mine.  I object to this, and I object to 14 hours of my day revolving around sitting waiting for people I do not want to see.

This was only one of the bits of interference that annoyed me this week.  The other one was from my friend, who again tried to joke about bringing cake to my house when I was miserable about Wolfe and struggling.  He apparently doesn’t know about boundaries, so I have had to explain this, in a variety of ways, ever since.

Why it would not be perfectly simple to do what a person asks in their home I do not know, but apparently he is a bit thick in this respect.

So this time I got really annoyed.

Am I the only person that can see that having to physically eject someone from my home for bringing and offering cake repeatedly when I ask him not to is a bit ridiculous? He even suggested that my objection somehow deprived my mother, and said he would do what he liked in my home.  I am not sure why this is a difficult issue for him.  If I don’t want your cake in my home, you don’t bring cake, surely?

It is not the actions of a friend to try to sabotage your life.  When people do things like this, they are actively trying to damage you.  I have explained this to him time and time again.  He refuses to understand, and apparently refused to recognise that I ought to be able to set the rules in my home.

I am constantly under attack, the last thing I need is more bullshit from someone pretending to visit me in order to damage my health via my mother.

Anyway, at the time I cried.  He thought this was hilarious, and it is unlikely that he is ever going to explain why he thinks damaging me is a good idea, since he has tried it so often.  Being alone sucks.



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