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.