when you join your very own - what do you get?

its a frightening thing indeed to move back into your own social strata after decades in the one below!

this is because society has 'classed' people and each class reacts or acts in a certain fashion.

I was placed in the sub-class decades ago but now i wonder was it in fact ever that, and who decides anyway?

when i was quite young really and struggling i was more or less booted out by my own er, class.
Yes, pretty much so.
penniless and jobless in the 70's i applied for social housing.
I was to be the first on this side of the pond to ever do this.
so this in itself was something to be rejected for and shamed for.
I lived amongst murderers, indeed my very first next door neighbour was a murderer, done his sentence and then lived peaceably beside me and i sat on the road with him many a sunny day.
Literally on the road, the leafy valleys and gardens of Killiney now all gone but the concrete of the tenement path now mine, with the druggies and the alkies and the murderers, wife beaters and chancers.

For the first time in my life i was happy.
I guess when booted out and left you do begin to take charge.  i took charge.
from not even one wooden chair i had to take charge.
not even a bathroom or a kitchen and wallpaper never holding on the walls i had to take charge.
add then to the butter mountains and beef mountains of europe i queued with my plastic bag.
A far cry from the Holy Child Jesus Killiney School for young ladies.
it was battlegrounds.

but these people became my own.
they actually had a moral code of conduct.
they stuck by you and supported you and watched out and over you.
they also saw sometimes your naievity and warned you of the people needed warning against, even the murderer warned me about people to watch for and make sure i didnt let them inside.

but doors could remain unlocked and open.
there was one across the road and there i went every day to sit with my dumpy adopted mom.
yes she was i adored her.
we sat and chatted and had a cup of tea and gorgeous bikkies always ready in that tin there.

we talked about the black and tans and how she had a boiled egg on easter sunday and the leg of mutton hanging over an open fire with a skewer for christmas dinner if they were so lucky.

I was very happy, i flourished and settled down.
i concentrated on improving my home and working to improve my art.
writing and illustrating books and designing greeting cards.
all added up to a bit in the bank or post office and nice furniture.
no, the middle class never clapped eyes on me again, hardly ever visited and least cared about me.

time moved on.  Decades.
everytime i was in mental pain and trouble and that was often i was considered just that, trouble, again by the middle class.
i was a bloody nuisance with my troubles, to them that is.
i was troubled to myself and that was that, troubled.
i had a shocking start and i had brain damage.
but no middle class person ever gave any of that an inch of thought.
i was 'ah Ann, she is 'trouble.'

but when i got into serious trouble with social housing it was decades fast forward.
the shift in times had come but not so badly as i had envisaged.
i dont blame the enclave the social housing authorities had placed me, it was far from where i had come both in one working class group and from my middle class background.
all men they were and very rough, unemployed used to drugging up and hanging themselves, leaving the mother with the babies.
but they also had troubled lives so they are not at fault, life is as it is.  the people to take responsibility are the people who are entrusted with this role when many couldnt take it.
they abused their power and treated people badly.
all people badly.
people in social housing in Ireland were the rejected and still are.
they are worth nothing in anyone's eyes, ever.

so when i was placed with a crowd of men who couldnt or wouldnt, or who didnt have a culture of working they knew they had placed a middle class woman with disabilities in a very vulnerable place and also a volitile place.
it did come to pass that my middle class status got to the drinking men.
my door was rapped at night in drunken stupers, i was accused of things i couldnt possibly have done, one being someones plant in the middle of his back garden!
children too were off the rails and hanging from them.  wild and brazen i got it there too.
i went into a mini madness of utter terror.
until the day i was shot at and so fleeing county was the stratedgy.
the ones that placed me where they did admitted it was a dreadful place for me, as too had the HSE but then no one takes responsibility for these sorts of things in Ireland.
what happens here if mistakes are made the phrase is 'you must move on' meaning forget it mate.
i had to literally move on and away from all i adored.
this time i was plumbing for middle class country.
i felt it best i got back to my roots in another county.
but what a failure as i fully now in the realm of all i had hated.
the brutality which is middle class utter snobbery and blame another and then tell the other to 'move on'
but middle class people do things a very different way and now i realise i am not altogether pleased with it.
they seem to feel they have a god given right to trod all over people's emotions and personalities and characters.
this is even without even getting to know a person or inviting them into their homes.
they make their assumptions from afar or on one meeting certainly not on a few.
you can be tarred and feathered within a day in this place.
you can be called anything here and have no comeback.
so far in my lovely middle class neighbourhood i have been called 'dangerous' and 'a tramp'
yep, thats what i have been called.
nice isnt it for a holy child jesus child to be called this.
and also for a very sick person with a disability but who is vulnerable now.
anything goes here.
but then i think i knew that coming from a family of 'lord of the flies ilke.'
the most unforgiving of all classes in society are the middle classes.
because they have grandiose ideas without the backup.
they think they have this right.
to slash and burn and then tell you 'to forget it and move on!'
well in my book you dont do that.
you treat people with respect.
I did, and i was taught to and i certainly learnt to, both from school, from doing charity work every living decade of my life and of course from the sub class of society.
we did respect and we tried to help without lumbering in there and demolishing.
but here they dont help, but certainly lumber in and demolish and seem to think it ok to call you a tramp on your own property, for asking a relatively simple question as 'when do you think you will be finishing up here?' as in 'this is taking a very long time, when can i have my home back?
and i am called 'you tramp you!'
he got stroppy and i told him to leave, and on leaving i am labelled a tramp.
i am not liking the style of the middle classes at all right now.
will it improve.
i dont know.
if the middle classes want it to improve maybe it will.
but i am not happy about it.
i want to return to the decent people.
when you have nothing absolutely nothing, you are all on level ground.
not here, there are the ones who trash and the ones who get trashed, and very viciously too.
it isnt nice, i hate it.

Blogging allows for reasonable justice to be done

it has been over a year and a month that i crash landed in my new county....literally.
I was so so tired that my adapted van went out of control and i hit a neighbours tree, taking out the tree and the van.
I was unharmed....by the crash, the tree or the van.
I wasnt so lucky with the area HSE which is our Health Service Executive and the local area care teams.
You come to a new area an unknown, but does that also say that the new area makes up their mind on you within a month and thereafter you are literally 'outted' by the people who are about the most powerful in your life.
if you have a disability and need these powerful people the HSE then you have fouled up your chance of best care.
I didnt foul anything.
i fell foul of the HSE and the care provider.

blogging gives way a sense that someone hears you, unlike the hse who do it 'their way'
and whilst they do it 'their way' the most cruel, insensitive, undemocratic and unjust way i say what i can here.
because so far justice has not prevailed.

what can you do against a powerful body who brandishes you 'a danger to staff.'
yes, syou would be mortified to write such a statement in a blog.
but i am NOT because it isnt true.
i wouldnt hurt a fly.
but a year and one month later i am still named as such and services in my new county are a scandal.
This, too I have to say because most disabled people in Ireland have gone underground for the fear that is within them.
and i say it because to receive a label such as 'dangerous to staff' is an outrage in itself.
to receive little care is just as outrageous and if we do not speak of it, then the country, its health service and its government is no better than producing a weakened population driven by hitlerism ideals and a 'pathwaying' which we know is happening even in the UK right now.
i am 60yrs of age and refuse to be silenced, refused to take a label such as this lying down and refuse to be pathwayed out of life after a life pathwayed by the HSE and its consultants which was torrid in extreme.
when you find a voice, become a person who wishes to both engage in society, be responsible for ones life and not do silly things anymore i do have a right to be considered equal and this i am not.
once you feel equal, act as if equal and take measures to be the best person you can be and contribute to society as i have done then no one, certainly not health care professionals will spread rumours and inuendos and condemn me without recourse to 'right of reply' you put your response in the blog.
Justice for me must come for now i find that i took measure to improve my life after the hse left me sitting duck to children with guns and boozing men who attacked me with verbal abuse and end in more abuse dished out by the hse.
it has to end for me and my twin.
we deserve...i say....we deserve better than this, far better.
both have been passionate to bring best practise to those vulnerable, both qualified to bring best practise and ease the burden of lives for people and train up others to do the same, as my twin did, and i trained to encourage elders to feel better about themselves through Arts & Empowerment and they did, i showed them some ways to do this, and i also brought them relief from the monotony of once again our critically ill nursing home care homes.
so at 60yrs of age i am now on the receiving end of such injustice i found in the nursing homes, and my twin found in the places and circumstances she found through her social work career.
I will not allow the HSE to bring my twin and i down so far we reel in the gutter of despair.
the way forward is to speak out and speak out using every vehicle available.
this is one such way.
please speak both for us and for all suffering in Ireland today. there are many

communication mixture

yes, i guess that is what i have to say right now.
the communication seems to have gone a bit pear shaped and we feel it.

Along with the communication or lack of it comes the contrast of those who have and those who do not.
this my friends is evident in extreme.

communicating care and consideration isn't so much an art i would have thought.
Most humans have this facility, or so i believed.
But when it comes to our nearest and dearest even if you hoped this came naturally by virtue of being part of family you do get the shock when it doesn't.
it isn't even there.
no where in sight.
and it is so so obvious.

that fleeting visit to 'see what is up' in the land of the relative.
the yearly snoop in and the swoop out.
for that is what it feels like and that is what i call a communication mixture, or should that be 'mix up?'
You are left with the tear in the side of the eye.
The effort of brushing up the floors, wiping down counters and buying in the biscuits.
In hopeful anticipation and excitement of communication - with the family.
but you get the mixed messages.
the watching the clock by glance, the taking of a mobile call.
the statements of 'i cannot stay long' and you knew they wouldn't anyway.

You hurt inside that you are not worth it at all.
to hear the lack of. in the tone, the gesture and the hasty good byes and the 'blast it, why did they bother.'
you walk away or back through the hall door and close it behind the retreating army.
 The tears well up in the eyes.
You take out a painting to try and fix the warped frame.
you slam the nail in, miss and hit the bloody thumb knuckle.
you are angry at the rejection.
you get so angry you talk about Wills and the past and 'why do i expect any different.'

on the other occasion there was effort made, the taste of the starter was sweet and glorious.
effort shown in the presentation and perfection.
the spode on the table and the waterford crystal and silver.
the neat little table with wall adornments catching the eye in awe.
none of my paintings are there, not even a tiny one in the corner, or under the level of the chair.
no image of mine does my closest kin own or put on wall.
but we are now older, and peace must come.
and spode and good food is better than the plastic tubberware and the spoon scooping food as you watch the telly.
we are used to eating the stews and mess that never changes from week to week, so this real food is a delight and pleasure, twinged with the feelings and hurt of decades but what can we say when the decades leave us as the elders in the state.
the problematic families are i guess part of being a dysfunctional island.
where the protestant and catholic mix and the bringing up as both royalists and republicans of the last fifty years.
this being in my family tradition.
the feeling of displacement and upset and loss.
the loss of servants and family emigrating.
the feeling of being left behind in less affluent times, the struggle with six kiddies knowing full well in wimbledon there in lies the wealth of the kin.
not so much bitterness within the family but the feeling of estrangement.
the loss of togetherness then left the next generation as more or less the same.
the competition within the siblings echoed the family 'Lord of the flies'
and i am doing the same.
the hurt of it all.
no kinship and contempt there seemed to be reeking from the pores of the well off.
the lack of consideration, communication of kindness but the message is fully clear and understood.
those on the fringe of this family was the single twins.
the least able and the most intelligent.
we were fodder for decades of built up resentment, bitterness and disenchantment.
the bitterness born of the competitive, angry growling members of a middle class mix of once wealthy and now not so, yet some gained back wealth and suddenly we had the selfishness that goes with 'attitude of grandour'
we cannot regain a past time ever.
but some did try and brought with it such spoilt brats its unbelievable.
the lack of christianity is full seen with all this screaming.
the fleeting visit,
the holes in the roof, the spode on the table and eating then from tubberwares.
we are a family divided and with that brings such pain it beggars belief.
the need for togetherness and kinship i yearn for, but with the closing of the hall door, the whack on the knuckle on the now bruised knuckle and the pain of feeling no love from them and toward them, cuts deep to the broken soul of a sick individual who is waiting to die.
and shall do so alone, very.
The Will.
finally i shall end with the Will.
nothing is Willed on to anyone, nothing at all.
it goes to one which is united in the same grief.
not one single member gets anything.
not that i had much to give in the first place.
but the Will is made.
if you do not care in Living then you do not reap in dying.
amen to that.  what a sad life its been.  it doesnt look as if its going to end with a swan song either.

I have not enough pitbulls for the hse

another day and the same story in holy ireland.

We have a problem in ireland and i am still trying to work all this one out.
Ireland that is.

I guess the reasons why we are like we are is we are a small island and our history is steeped in gossip, slander, roguery and interbreeding.

its the only way i can fathom my country now.
its lack of modernity
lack of morality
lack of intelligence (the ones that stay that is)
the lack of diversity (the gossip elements)

we just seem never to work as a nation, ever.

the hse is a case in point and why do i say this?
because although about to be disbanded, it is relatively modern endeavour and when we discover now its gone all pear shaped its being scrapped, for another type of health service provider.
God knows what will come next, if the last two brigades didnt suit will anything?

We will shoot with the 'intelligence' bit first.

You get a powered chair, assessed for it.
you already had a powered scooter (but its clapped out, and known to be)
you ring in to say the wheelchair now has 'gone down with an illness, and it may be terminal.'
you ask what should you do with it
and the answer you get is...we are coming to take it back because you are not allowed have two powered gizmos at the same time!
now thats intelligence.

What will they do with a broken powered scooter that has been done to death on the roads, which has mrsa probably attached to not only the handlebars?
will they give it to some other poor sod eh?

or does it go the horse meat way?
or is THAT actually the horse meat way?

the powered chair is already a reconstituted bucket from ballyhaunis and how do i know this?
they told me they were reconstituting them up and sourced a place in ballyhaunis to do just this, but this isnt even the horse meat way cos its been found out, i have this item less than a month, and its already terminal.

I can also say that in the beginning of the year both my twin's scooter and mine were taken out by disease and the van died due to being in a fatal crash so we were effectively left in our estate without any means of getting to doctors appointments and other and no other way to buy food or set ourselves up, no we do not have anyone to do this we are on our own entirely and so we relied on the odd taxi.
this was paid for out of our funds.
not only that, but we nearly went  mental in the process, holed up in a place with no name.

mine has now, its called 'wicket' i kid you not, and not without reason.

so we paid for taxis until we couldnt afford that anymore and the mental status got me to ring the hse and ask when the two scooters were to be fixed.
'can you wait another two weeks?' was their answer.
Am i still 'with the' intelligence bit or have i moved on to another category when i mention this phrase?

No we cannot wait another two weeks, came the response.
now you know why my home is named thus.

they were fixed.
by an outfit being sued.
the scooters didnt go much better and so we got in another crowd.
this cost us plenty and no, the hse didnt refund us this either.
so this scooter, which they want back has now been paid for IN FULL.
its about ten years old anyway and i kept it serviced and spruced, so i feel its mine and i have earned it and loved it.
i dont love the ~HSE, but they know that, i have good reason.
they don't seem to get it and tell me that the staff feel dispirited with my attitude.
well i am the one feeling disgruntled with attitude, i can tell you personally.

then we have a case of economics and the way the health provision is run here in ireland.
we have a case of the saluki dog and the pitbulls.
those with the saluki and cash in hand can get bloods done instantly.
those who havent money have to have enough pitbulls to fight and you don't usually win but do end in tears as i did today when the gp tells me that he doesn't get paid to do bloods.
I needed to know my muscle enzyme markers and my autoimmune markers as i had a flare during the week which saw me in the wheelchair (the twin's one, remember mine is sick) and also because i am seeing the neurologist and absolutely need to know the status of my muscle enzymes because i have a muscle wasting disorder and this is my attempt to get OUT of ireland to no. 1 get a diagnosis and some class of treatment.
the only diagnosis i have to date is they know i am in a wheelchair and i am on morphine, other than that, i dont know why and thats what i want to know.
if i dont before i did they will not get my body for scientific research which i had promised but as they have done little when i am alive i doubt they will get my body when dead.
i cannot be worth MORE when i am dead then i am alive and its looking increasingly like this now.

we also had a bath-bad situation with the HSE too. they refused to me allow me keep it, even in my own private home, my first private home.
if i wanted to avail of the adaptation grant, they said i had to get rid of the bath and have a wetroom as they 'didnt want me coming back for more', this was a hse decision.
fearing me not being able to avail of the adaptation grant to allow me make the place suitable for a wheelchair  i had to agree with the wetroom, even if i had no choice, never met the person who was making me do this and i told the council i would still try to save my bath by discussion with the hse.
months and months and months went by and finally i managed with the help of the local td to save the bath - and this is about the most useful medical aid i have within these walls.
the bath helped my severe pain (i am on morphine).
i have generalised dystonia - a neurodegenerative difficulty.
i have a muscle wasting disorder and restless legs and fibromyalgia.
all helped by taking a bath.
none could be helped by a hole in the floor sitting upright in a hard chair.
so when i fought hard for the bath retention, i then lost the 20,000k. one old 1980's bath and a blasterboard wall saved and yet i lost 20,000k in the adaptation grant.
this had me driving around in the van in tears.
when were the irish institutions ever going to let me have the peace i yearned for.
how is it that a semi state organisation can MAKE you do something to your home, against your will all because 'we dont want you coming back for more.'
this wasnt about disability, it was economics.
an identical twin with a doctorate wasnt even quizzed queried nor bullied in the same manner.
i was, they knew i had nothing, absolutely nothing.
so they could interfer in my first home, which i paid for with an inheritance from my deceased dad and my deceased sister.
we have the state interferring in my life now DECADES and will it end.
i ask you to decide and make real for me.
but then when it comes to disability and the people who are disabled people in Ireland, it happens us, all of us, not just myself but us as a group.
this is what terrifies all disabled people in ireland, the disempowerment if you fight back.
and i will fight back.
no one can deny i will fight back.
if the HSE wrongs me, i will be on again and again and again, blogging the fact.
it effects me you know.
i have brain damage and asperger, but i will not, cannot let this sort of abuse go on, it goes on for all with disability in ireland.
this is not only my story, its the story of the saluki against the pitbulls.
and i walk tall and gracefully as a saluki but fight like a saluki, but the rich man's palm is not mine, i rely on how strong the teeth are and how i can hold on vice like for justice.

torture in ireland is totally unnecessary

today i was trying to settle for the weekend.

it is very hard in Ireland right now.
If you are disabled here, it torturous.
it is not only difficult to DEAL and ACCEPT disability, acquired disability along with birth defects but to deal with bourocracy here is on the level of torture.

there is no other way to put it and we have to face this.
We are not comfortable here with disability of any kind and we are being used as a butt to the economic difficulties and troubles.

I HAVE CONTRIBUTED IN NO WAY WHATSOVER TO THE FINANCIAL DOWNFALL OF MY SMALL COUNTRY ON THE EDGE - OF NOWHERE.

when i could, i worked.
when i was sick and now disabled i could not and cannot.
this is why we ensure to the best of our abilities to keep paying taxes and contributing as best we can.
this is a moral thing, to be able to say that you are not a drain on society but then again, very few are as all have gifts and talents to give to our fellow human being.
I have contributed, in more terms than financial.
I WAS BORN DISABLED, YET, i consistently worked with disabled people and brought empowerment and enjoyment in sometimes a limited life and style of living.
i brought laughter and joy and acceptance.
where ever i roamed within the day centres where i taught and in the homes i visited, the homes for the elderly, i was indeed enjoyed and people looked forward to my classes and my banter and skill.

yet now when the tables are turned and i NEED THE HELP THAT I SHOULD BE GETTING WITH ACCEPTANCE and WITH GOOD WILL, I FACE 'IRISH TORTURE'

there has been bullying on the part of the health services, there has been tears and accusations and slander too.
there has been a total unacceptence of who i am and an unwillingness to embrace my 'difference' as i present as a disabled woman with an autism spectrum disorder.

But to society i have contributed and was loved.
I gave love.
I cherished the times i spent with the depressed elderly trying to give reassurance and calm.
I cherished the times i found one single elderly man or woman so low that it was hard to wreck a smile from the wrinkled faces.  when i could bring them their confidence and committement back to life and the smile of agreement to this face i too joined and cherished the woman or man who turned even if briefly and felt part of the world and society.

remember, the smile of the elderly is what is received when they themselves believe in who they are.
too many now in the nursing homes of Ireland know they are there to die and to prolong a 'living' which they do accept.
ALL WANT TO BE WITH THEIR FAMILIES, NOT SHUNTED AWAY IN SOME DYING AND KILLING FIELDS OF NURSING HOMES.

i am edging and creeping to old age and the people who do not allow me to do this with grace and acceptance are the HSE AND LOCAL HEALTH SERVICES - in total.

to DENY me a good end is to allow torture to prevail in the lack of care and a disgust of who i am and what i stand for.

to FIGHT WITH ME OVER MY RIGHTS TO CHOSE, MY RIGHT TO GOOD HEALTH CARE AND THE WAY I WISH TO END MY DAYS, IS TANDAMOUNT TO TORTURE.

you have to feel accepted, you must be treasured as an individual who has contributed to society and who does deserve to end a dreadful existance in a country which never had much in the way of modernity.
In my lifetime.

what i faced for decades, discrimination, stigma and shunting away in some back hole of nowhere for the convenience of care services, middle class strata of society and also psychiatry was torture.
I received torture through psychiatry and then given an apology.
i received torture when i was badly rehoused between alcoholics and gun slinging children.
I have been deprived of the county of my birth as i fled to safety.
we are yes, talking about IRELAND, this country that is such a shining example of a nations willingness to 'face it on the chin, our debt crisis'

Many do not understand what it actually does on the ground to disabled people and the sick and ill.
we are in a dangerous health system now so depleted that the health service is, it is not providing quality care for all.

I am sickened by what Ireland does to us.
those of us who are cast aside so rudely, so nastily and so unkindly.
we are a nation who choses badly.
we chose to denigrate all those who have tried hard, and who through no fault of their own, end on the wrong side of health law.

I AM NOT TO BLAME FOR THE ILLS OF THE HEALTH SERVICE - DO NOT TAKE IT OUT ON ME, A DISABLED WOMAN WHO WANTS TO DIE IN PEACE.
I AM SITTING DOWN WITH A NEW FRIGHT, BROUGHT ON BY THE HSE AND A SCARE.
THIS IS TORTURE, NOTHING BUT TORTURE.

LET ME LIVE OUT IN PEACE, LOVE ACCEPTANCE AND CARE.
IT ISNT RIGHT TO DO WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO ME.

Irish Disability cuts

I want to understand what is going on here...

present at a pre-budget petition and requests to Kathleen Lynch at the Mansion house last year, she told us, (disabled) that we were in hard times and the following day we heard the unthinkable, Personal Assistance would be axed.

we rose up with the red card.

then came the promise of Enda to a woman with no limbs that under his watch no cuts in disability funds would be made.

he too lied.

he lied to this woman.

further cuts were made and more besides.

these people face us, face to face - hard people with callous minds and ways of delivery.

Kathleen Lynch does not 'agonise'  she wasnt agonising at the mansion house when she knew bloody awful news was going to be delivered to all of us who are disabled, within the next 24hrs.

she looked into space and was there in that place as a public relations officer, to hear us and yet do something different for us.

we again have the same Kathleen Lynch who took a question from the floor from my self and she said to my twin sister that she would help.

she met my twin sister, promised a response to a document my twin presented to her, almost six months later she never even acknowledged the meeting, yet alone deliver a response.

we both ring her secretary who tells us 'no further meeting' would be envisaged.

this is the type of response disabled people are getting.
the gloss facade, the fake.

you also have another sort of evil going on, within the HSE.
i will say the HSE can fund a disabled person a PA and yet say in the same breath that no person was to enter the disabled persons home until this disabled person is medically risk assessed!
yet the hse is actually FUNDING the PA to this disabled woman.
this disabled woman has fought hard and long, over a year to have her name cleared.
in the traversty which is the HSE, they say slanderous things against a sick person and yet fund help for her at the same time.
the former cannot be apologised for, the latter we hope will not be withdrawn.

the sick person is told that if she wants to bring it further, she will have to bring her case to the Ombudsmans office.

the ombudsmans office, wronged her and set four years of hell on earth for her, and it continues.

tell me please, what type of government are the irish people voting for.

the sick person also fears that because she stood up to the HSE over and over, she will in the end die at the hands of the HSE who will do this through neglect and inattention.

the sick person is convinced that she will be let die through non treatment because she is considered a peskie person and also not worthy of life.

she is very very scared and doesnt sleep at night.
The A&E departments are a horrendous fear for her, because she is usually shunted to the corner near the dirty laundry and left.

how can we change this sort and type of living for a disabled and sick person.
its a dreadful way to live.

we, the disabled people also know that this is now becoming common throughout the world.
we also know that pathwaying out exists.
we know that most of the elderly are literally 'put down' and 'put away' by their relatives who couldnt be bothered to care for them.

there is one law that is hopefully still truthful for the sick, elderly and disabled.
 making a "living will' and also making a will.
if everyone rises up and make the will according to concience.
if you are not cared for in this life by relatives, why leave them anything?
and the living W
ill will do its darnest to save you being dumped in one of our dreadful dying houses for the sick and elderly the 'nursing' homes.

if you have money, position and influence, you do not agonise over anything when it comes to health issues.
when you have none of these, there is every reason to fear for your life every time you go to bed.
i wish it were different.
it wont be, in my lifetime

the meaning of 'retirement!'

i dont think its this anyway!
no way retiring, no way sitting chewing the cud.
no way am i having neat little coffee mornings or a chat over a mug of tea.
no way am i watching the youngster run around me as i sit plucking daisies.
Certainly i never thought 'retirement' would be this!
Retiring from what i may ask as it continues the same as it always was.

shrieking through disability issues and them that control 'us.'
Them that does control determines my retirement preoccupations.
it isnt about writing the famous memoir of an 'adventure'
its about living the life of the adventure i rather not live OUT, i could do without.

my dream of such things as retirement was Freedom from strife, ill health, a certain level of contentment and peace.
EASE i think would be the tiny word i would use for the wrinkled prune sitting on the decking wondering about the marvels of the world.

I am at Disease with disease and the state of the nation and them people who control the lives of so many of us who are disabled.

we have one holy mess.
remember too, one little feckin nation at the edge of nowhere isnt setting the agenda against the disabled.
this is a worldwide agenda, the pathwaying out of the unnecessary disabled, the money eaters.
the nuisance and the misfortune of the able bodied to have us in their midst.

we have as a century, set the tone for development of our youth, to that of greedy, selfish little emperors and we have set the tone for development as we progress in science and so keep people alive longer, with better food, understanding and the interventions into preventable disease.

what we cannot do is cure all, so some unpreventable diseased people remain unaccounted for in this sort of spectrum of considered acceptability.
we become the burdens of the unnessary so that the able bodied can get on with their lives unfettered.
but we are chained in bondage to the lack of kindness which gives us no freedom whatsover in movement, thought or effecting change for the good of self or that of others or the nation.

Abled bodied individuals have caused a mighty depression amongst us.
that of fear for our lives, the next time in A&E and of costs of living that to us is the cost of the scratch basics of living.
we are not living because of the squeeze out and abandonment both in terms of ability to do anything as no money to fund activity and the inability to do anything about it all.

we in this little country have such dreadful organisations such as the HSE and its a known fact within disabled circles if a disabled person stands up to the hse our life would be made hell.

I am living proof.
they are making my life hell.
we have an obsurd situation here now where i have managed to save the bath as part of my  need in my home when the hse wanted and demanded i have a wetroom.
i accepted the same grant funding as twin who wasnt required to have this change made.
and so now we are equal in the fact we both have a bath, but now i hear the grant has been reduced!
of course no one told me it was being done, the builder did!
so i await to see if this is actually true.
the hell on earth they have put me through for a year and now they are turning the knife, i win on the bath and they determined that i will be ill at ease as i am diseased and they say how it should be.
well, i guess i may have further to fight this lot.
also to fight a dreadful thing they have said about me yet done the exact opposite to what they recommend.
they can condemn me and yet they do something not recommended.
its just not possible in this instance to do two things at once.
just not at all possible, but defo possible for the hse and the hse will let this be the impasse for that is what they do.
they do not do 'conflict resolution' at all.
they may capitulate but decide to try 'get you after all' in the end./
its like a battle of wits.
i consider them people the nits of society the bugs that bug me and many disabled people giving us an incurable rash so we bleed.
i dont like what the minister for health Dr. Rielly and Kathleen Lynch is doing to the good disabled of my small country.
she said she has been agonising over the goverments decision to slash mobiltiy grants, agonising?
i doubt it.
she will sleep well tonight and be fed well, she also can afford private health insurance and wont end in any agony at all.
Kathleen Lynch, your words could not have been more comical.
we are agonising over what you are dong to our life, all of us who are disabled in ireland are anxiety riddled and petrified for the next cut and the next and the next after that.
can i please please be left in peace away from the hse?
is that possible?
nah.