Independent

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Self Advocacy Never Done

Published June 3, 2019 by helentastic67

Self Advocacy Never Done

I’ve often said there is no holiday from self-advocacy and you might not have any idea what this means, so allow me.

Wednesday arrives and so does my carer and the phone rings, the agency calls and I’m happy to hear from her because we have a decent friendly repour. Until she tells me she needs to fill my next shift, because the carer rang in sick, it’s 10am and my next shift starts at 12.30pm (because they won’t cover taxi’s) my carer now helps me efficiently get from home to my favourite Café to my Chiropractors, then back to her home at the location I get stabbed (acupuncture) by 3pm.

I used to do this all without the assistance of a carer, but because my chiro relocated, I can’t do it all efficiently in a day via Young John, my scooter and a tram. Then I get some steps done walking here.

So, agency calls and she is letting me know they might not have someone, my morning carer in the background is trying to see if she can be the silver bullet to solve the problem.

We have a brief discussion about the availability of my regulars. Not the silver bullet. Some only work certain days, others study also, others again have a full day and would end up working ten hours, which is NOT ALLOWED. (not complaining)

So, I’m asked ‘which carer wouldn’t I like?’ I give her a ‘Don’t be like that!’ a little tartly and she says ‘Remember when we started, I sent “XYZ” (not her real name) and you loved her. Here’s the advocacy part. SHUDDUP I got there. It was all relevant.

“No! No, I didn’t, she was the first carer you sent to me and I was being professional and diplomatic, but I could tell there was a little something ‘off’ about her.

That first day she made a point for me to know she was a ‘white aboriginal’ woman and she loved to brag about her wealthy private clients, that had indoor swimming pools and a lift. “Hey, I have a fucking lift too, now I’m doing apartment living.” She came to my new home after Christmas because they were short staffed and she looked down her nose at my home, saying “she couldn’t do it!” Then she stole my letter opener and Seinhausen headphones.

So, No! No! I don’t want her back again. I was asked if I would be OK to have a male carer? Of course, they will not be needing to see me naked. So, fine. They found someone for me and that little hurdle is conquered, but it’s pretty much how every single day goes. Either it’s the agencies, my property manager, my carers or even my family, or complete strangers in the street.

It’s NON-STOP, it never ends.

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