Why

Don’t Worry

We have made our way out of the 2nd Covid lockdown in Melbourne 2020 and people have been talking about all the vivid dreams they were having. ‘Only during Covid’ I ask. I always have very vivid dreams; I greet my carers in the morning with “I had a crazy dream!”

They literally shrug their shoulders like “What’s new?” years ago, I had to start what has become a tradition. I said to a friend “I had a dream; you were in it” he then made a bit of a hopeful questioning noise and I responded, “Don’t worry we had clothes on” To his great disappointment.

Evil laugh.

So, ever since I’ve always stated that line on every comment when I’m telling someone they were in my dream the night before. You were in my dreams last night. Don’t worry, we had our clothes on and I’ve often received responses. “Why would you say that?” A little disturbed.

So, try it next time you have a dream and someone is in it. Tell them they featured and they had their clothes on. Then explain the context.

Is this how legends begin?

Somebody

There are times I sit on the writing a post until I can do it justice. This is about both my absolute horror at disability service and about why I appreciate and need to be treated like a normal person. Or at least like I might be a working, contributing human being in society.

For want of a better name, I’m calling this person “Somebody”. Somebody was a Case Manager I once had. Somebody wasn’t a great Case Manager, but she/he was a reasonable person and I think she/he knew they could share with me their shitty work day, because I would emphasis with both them and the client.

Somebody had an appointment with another client the prior day. I imagine it was a lot to deal with as they were still processing. She/he had gone to see their client who lived in a group home.

They walked in expecting just their client and instead was greeted by the CEO of the company, the site manager and about four other people that prompted me to say ‘Got it’. Top heavy management, sure. Oh dear, this did not sound great, then Somebody paused, seriously debated if she/he should tell me. She/he shouldn’t have, but she/he did and I gave them the grown-up empathy and opportunity she/he needed and wouldn’t dare name or shame them or who they work for. That said, some stories have to be shared.

Somebody walked into this meeting unaware of why they were there. The day before Somebody’s client took a bite (I repeat, a BITE) out of a carer’s thigh. Ouch, sweet Jesus Nelly. I expressed my terror. Then my barrage of questions/statements.

“What was the carer doing?
Presumable the client didn’t like it?
Was the carer not reading the client correctly?
Was the client not being listened to or heard?
The carer must need more training?
What was the carers thigh doing anywhere near the clients mouth?
The staff need more training or better staff?”

Somebody looked at me surprised. I’m sure Somebody wished I had been there to quick fire my questions. I hope your advice, the result would only have been to move that staff member to ‘easier’ clients and to dumb them down with stronger meds. I refer to that as ‘bombing’ them out. Which is also why I don’t reach for pills anytime something hurts or I’m given a script.