National Carers Week
Did you know this is apparently National Carers Week here in the Emerald Isle?
I didn’t and it now nearly over. Nobody bothered to tell me so I have missed out on all the fun. Cunts!
Apparently it’s a week of celebration of carers and the work they do. It’s also a week for carers to take a little break and pamper themselves.
I didn’t know I was officially a carer until a few months ago. I was just living my life and throwing Herself the odd meal or two when Doc mentioned that I should become legitimate, as it were. So I sent off all the forms and had the usual fun with Social Services, the Health Services Executive and of course Social Welfare.
In due course I became an Official Carer and the money started rolling in, which was nice. I was now able to supplement Herself’s diet of beans on toast with the odd scrambled egg on toast. The weekly payment almost exactly covers the cost of out tobacco requirements so the gubmint are now buying our smokes for us which is somewhat ironic.
So I am supposed to be taking a break this week? Thanks very fucking much for telling me when the week is nearly over.
If there is anyone from Family Carers Ireland out there reading this then I will overlook your tardy lack of informing me. Next week will be grand so far as I am concerned and am willing to take my break then.
Could you please book me a cruiser on the Shannon for the week.
I could fancy that. Nice and relaxing and I can moor the boat near a pub each evening.
Don’t worry about Herself. I’ll leave her a few bottles of water and I’ll feed her when I get back.
An official carer, eh? Altruism beyond.
Apparently it was in the small print of the marriage thing. Always give a contract to a solicitor first!
Ah, of course, silly me.
You would be surprised at the number who fall for that damned small print.
I vowed in ‘sickness h’an h’in ‘ealth’ and the government pay me to do so, a win-win for everyone cos the cost of residential care in a *cough* ‘Secure Unit’ would leave the London Ritz jealous. Sometimes someone well intentioned mentions ‘respite’ (like your Carer’s week) to which I always reply ‘Nah, mustn’t grumble, she’s not a burden, she’s my wife’ but the truth is I can’t face the thought or the expense of trying to get bloodstains out of the carpets and off the walls because some ‘respite carer’ thought it would be nice to let Mrs Rochester try some Vegan-organic-salt-free ‘GUIDED’ therapeutic cookery to supplement her pig based Germanic diet . Word to the wise 1. never let a paranoid psychotic have sharp implements 2. Never never NEVER turn your back .
We had a visit from our local Social Welfare woman [who turned up two months late]. I told her precisely what was needed. She listened, she ignored the lot and told us what we needed. She buggered off.
Two weeks later nothing had happened so I wrote to her with my shopping list [which wasn’t much, incidentally], and explained why her list was bugger all use to us.
Three weeks later she phoned. She had received my letter, had ignored all my requests and informed us that out of her list we were getting just one item. She also said she was to send around the local nurse to help out a bit, as a matter of urgency.
We’re still waiting.