Dear Diary - a Care Giver in England

July 15th, 2011

Yes, I know, you have been sending me text messages, emails and leaving messages on my Blog for the next episode of my Caring adventures!
It has been a while since I last wrote to update you on my whereabouts and what I am doing, - and, of course, what the outcome with Molly was…ahhhh…Ms Molly!
From being a docile Carer I finally blew my stack and told her to behave in no uncertain terms.
She did for half a day and night, but, paid me back by producing a poop the size of a large Christmas pudding in her potty that lurks perched on stilts beside her bed.
I wished I had a gas mask to shift the stuff, but alas, that was just a pipe-dream.
The main insult was when I got reprimanded for the “thin” toilet paper that allowed her fingers to slip through and get covered with “you-know-what”…
I had to endure a tongue-lashing and stand there trying to keep a straight face, when all the time I was bursting at the seams, my laughter bubbling and brewing, threatening to explode in hysteria!
What with having to call in a plumber to sort out her broken toilet, which infuriated her, as I had “no right” to make such phone calls, (I was instructed to do so by her daughter) deal with broken toilet bits that had fallen off the porcelain, and suffer verbal effluent. Besides, what was I meant to do, leave a heaving murky mass to ferment for the weekend?
In fact, I was so pleased to see the plumber arrive I could have kissed him, but refrained as he was very good-looking in a Latin kind of way and I had to let him get on with the job and get it sorted out without any distractions.
The staff that had worked on the estate saw what was going on and early one morning, when I had been sent off to pick raspberries the long-standing gardener approached me and said:
“Susan, just a word, we have all seen what is happening with you and feel we have to let you know, you are not the only Carer this happens to and the thing is…erm…you need to tell the daughter what’s potting.”
I thanked him profusely for his concern and that afternoon, did just what he had suggested.
To my relief, she was aware of Molly’s ability to make a Carer’s life somewhat uncomfortable and told me that this occurs every six weeks or so, she then steps in, sorts Molly out and calm reigns for an uncertain period.
When I handed over to the incoming Carer, Sue, I warned her things could get stormy.
A week later, Sue wrote to me via email and asked me
“Are we looking after the same person?
Molly cannot do enough to make me feel comfortable.”
I shook my head and smiled to myself thinking,
“Oh yeah Suzy-Q, we sure are talking about the same person.”
Sue has just completed her assignment with Molly yesterday.
I wonder how her replacement shall fare.
Six weeks are on the horizon.

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