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Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Chemo day

is always a tough one.  I had my blood test and haven't heard back so I am assuming that I am bug free, just now and it will all go ahead.  I hope that Mrs Anxious from last week isn't there.

The list of things to do in the house grows ever longer, the more doors I open.  For example, I opened the sweater cupboard door wherein are stored all Granny B and Granny Seaside's lifelong collection of cashmeres to be greeted by a couple of dead moths.  So they all have to come out and be handwashed and dried on the line.  If I have said, please keep this door shut once to the girls, I have said it a thousand times.....

There are piles of stuff everywhere to be sorted and thrown after the summer.  I am debating whether to make good on the threat

"If it's on the floor when you leave, I am assuming it is for the bin."

There is a pile of other stuff to pack up and put away for winter.  After this weekend, I think shorts are going to be a little hopeful as attire.  I need to sort out the deep freeze - we've got to the "If you open the door, jump back quickly or lose your toes" stage.  The filing needs doing and the office sorting.  T shirts to send out.  The list goes on.

I am hoping to go to Cambridge tomorrow to meet up with Sue and Rachel.  This means I need to find Rachel's F.E.A.S.T. t-shirt that I have been carefully keeping to give her.  It is in a bag somewhere in my room with a little label saying "Rachel" on it. I saw it last week and put it somewhere safe...Let's hope the safe place was the sweater cupboard and it might all come out in the wash.

In the meantime, I am ploughing my way through the right to a second opinion in mental health cases for children in Scotland, badgering for reviews and case notes, working out the internal workings of CAMHS teams and how to get around obstructive procedural doodahs, against a background of vague "Munchausen" implications.

Really, people, Munchausen's is extremely rare. The mother is asking for a second opinion from a specialist, whilst submitting, willingly to Child Protection being called in.  Why?  Because this mother is fighting for her child's life against a background of prejudice, preconceptions and arse covering.  To be frank, a complete waste of NHS time and money and making a nonsense of accessing better care.  It saddens me that there are some really good people in our Mental Health teams trying to make a difference, being obstructed by clinicians who have slogged and smarmed their way to positions of power.  I don't understand egos that size.  Or is it I don't qualify for a NHS pension?  Or are my expectations too high when I think that mental health professionals have chosen their career paths and are in their jobs to help people, rather than further their careers at the expense of a child?

The Fairy Blogmother once told me that, until those at the top of the profession die out - and with them their old ideas of what constitutes an eating disorder - and the new ones, who have managed to read something post-1989 come in, things will never change.  I have to disagree on some counts - Bryan Lask still gets my vote for forward thinking, for example - but it seems to me that the NHS is top-heavy on dinosaurs just now.  With the retirement age being made higher all the time, it sometimes fills me with despair.

All in a day's work......

And yes, this is an upside down picture of Pirate.  He was upside down when it was taken and thinks it shows his best side...


1 comment:

  1. Ahhhhhhhh!! he is soooooooo gourgeous! TSWITW replace nicest with silliest!! xxxx

    ReplyDelete