Yesterday, some toity woman turns up...
"Your palliative care is being stopped as from tonight. We are taking over the contract. We will come in from 8:45 to 9:15, then 12:15 to 12:45, then 5:15 to 5:45. Sign this contract here." She wouldn't even look at my dad.
My mum challenged this, as my dad is far too poorly to be messed about by any schedule. If he's asleep, we don't wake him, just to shove 3 spoons of yoghurt down his neck, to suit some pen pusher.
"We can't possibly fit you in at any other time"
Fine said mum - then you can push off. She was really p*ssed off, and accused my mum of wasting her time. WHAT? FFS, we know she will bill the NHS stupid money, for sending a trail of different people into our house. No thanks. My mum ended up in tears after she left, because she felt so threatened in her own house.
Since he was awake at 5am, my mum and I manged to get him to the toilet, then we washed, changed and fed him ourselves, before putting him back to bed. Stuff them. We just saved the NHS about £200.
To our suprise, at 10am, one of the nice palliative carers turned up. She was horrified by what had happened. We think miss smarty pants jumped the gun.
(I don't think he'll last the night - so miss smarty pants wouldn't have made much out of us anyway.)