Real time blogging these days. Freshly hatched happenings. The carer’s assessment which took place this morning. My first ever carer’s assessment – shame on you social services – after 13/14 years of social/health care dealings.
So the social worker (lovely, lovely A) turned up as arranged. I’d done a speed clean (shoving dirty pans in oven, etc, etc), tried not to feel guilty about anything and was in my best question-answering-without-huffing mood. We ploughed through the usual misery enducing questions, with the occasional interjection “But he’s a lovely young man, isn’t he?”
“Tell me, Sarasiobhan, does LB have many friends?”
“Er, no. Not really. Well none really.”
“But he’s a lovely young man, isn’t he?”
“Does LB have a girlfriend?”
“Er, no. No he’s very, very keen but let’s just say he’s punching well above his weight on that score.”
“He’s not interested in any of the girls at school then?”
“Nah, he’s got a bit of a thing about ‘them bloody disableds’ which means romance at school is out.”
“But he’s a lovely young man, isn’t he?”
Seven A4 sides later, it was all over. Thank fuck.
“Oh, and we’ll need to do a carer’s assessment too,” she said, as she went out the front door. “I’ll email it through”.
postscript: Thanks to Wale for the soft toy donation.
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