14 May
The
ongoing mental health meltdown is hardly out of the news these days. As much as
it pains me to say it, the blame for it can’t be levelled at the feet of Daft
Dave. No, it’s the result of long term neglect by successive government as far
back as you wish to go. One thing is for sure though, it can’t be sorted
overnight, no matter how much we might want it to be done like that. Part of
the problem I think, is the ‘care in the community’ ethos that is in vogue just
now. As much as it’s a great idea in that leading a normal life is more
preferable to an institutional life, unless it is fully supported by trained
personnel, it places too much reliance on the patient to look after themselves.
In many cases, these same patients are just not able to do so.
There’s a
lady who lives just a few doors down from us who is a prime example of that.
Right now she is fine and everything is nice and quiet, however, every now and
then she forgets, or intentionally doesn’t take her medication. The result is
that another lady who lives opposite her feels the full force of the reaction.
We have seen this a few times since we have moved here, indeed, Jan was on the
receiving end one day, and it’s not a pretty sight at all. As I say, she’s
stable at the moment but we are all waiting for the next bust up.
Now
here’s the thing, while she is taking her meds, she’s as quiet as a mouse and
lives a normal life. So the question is, ‘Is it right to confine her to a
hospital just because she forgets her meds every so often?’ And here’s the rub,
those hospitals no longer exist. There are a few hostels about the country but
the need for their support is so great there’s a long waiting list to get into
one. Now we are in a position where people are dying because of the lack of
provision. In other cases, especially with young patients, they are being
admitted to hostels hundreds of miles from home. It seems clear to me that care
in the community is not working in its current form. There’s just not enough
money for it to do so for those with a physical illness, let alone mental
illness patients.
Until
someone comes along and grasps the nettle and gets stuck into it to get it
sorted out, we continue to hear horror stories of the mentally ill dying
through lack of care. In some cases, they attack and kill strangers on the
street (thankfully there’s few of those these days), or as I have said here, they
stop their meds and cause real problems for the one person she always seems to
turns her hatred on.
For some time
now I have been working on Arathusia by typing it straight into the Word file,
and yet I have felt less than happy about the results. Then on Facebook
yesterday I saw a post of and expensive looking fountain pen on a sheet of good
quality paper, with words along the lines of a nothing is like writing with a
good quality fountain pen. This post is of course aimed at eth writers amongst
us, me included. When my brother died we found an unused Sheaffer pen set,
(among a number of others). When we moved here and packed up ready for the move
I found the set again, then forgot about once again.
I finally
came across it not so long ago and decided to give it a go. Eventually I wrote
127 A4 pages of Arathusia with it. The next task was typing it up, and that
found a bit of a chore; but yer no wot? I did enjoy that long hand writing. So
yesterday I started again and completed just over 1000, words of it. I shall be
doing more later today.
Today’s photo …
Another from last Saturday, big toys for little boys.
Today’s
funny …
Did you hear the one about the cannibal who got married, and at
the wedding reception, toasted his mother-in-law?
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