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| Copyright MARVEL COMICS |
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| Copyright DC COMICS |
Great news, Crivvie chums! My mother is now ensconced within another Care Home (above), which has a 9.8 rating and akin to a luxury 5-star hotel, unlike the seedy 'B&B' type hovel she was in. Thanks to Social Worker Estelle, who did more in a week to get my mother moved than her predecessor did in around two-and-a-half years (or more) of ignoring and impeding my attempts to move her to a better place. It'll cost me a fortune in taxi fares to visit, but it's worth it knowing my mother will be properly looked after for whatever time she has remaining.
As regular readers know, I was banned from visiting my mother under false and malicious pretexts and hadn't seen her since July. In that time she has deteriorated greatly and lost a lot of weight, and doesn't seem so responsive as she once was (for a person with Alzheimer's and cancer). The Social Worker was told my mother's hearing aids were broken, though she had new ones fitted only a few months back, and she was left totally deaf and unable to communicate with the Social Worker, who had to write wee notes to elicit any kind of response.
Also, her fingernails clearly hadn't been cut for weeks, if not longer, and she's obviously been neglected and left in her own wee world, isolated from any caring contact. She didn't appear to recognise me and I never heard a single word from her* in the time I spent with her today, though I'm told she gave her name in response to being asked (in writing) by the staff at her new 'home'. Now my mother is out of Meadowbrook's clutches (some staff were okay, but few of them were as conscientious as they should've been) I can relax as some of the pressure is off me.
(*Apart from when she spoke in her sleep as she dozed in an armchair, where she softly muttered "Let go, let go, you'll break it, you'll break it!" Worryingly, she had bruises on both legs below where her leggings stop above her ankles, one of them pretty damn big.)
When we went to collect my mother, Estelle told me management had said I wasn't allowed to take in my 'phone, nor speak to staff - I'd no intention of talking to them anyway. Must've been worried I'd take more photos (something to hide?), though my mobile has no camera, as I have an actual camera for that purpose. My aim was to move my mother as quickly as possible and shake the dust off my feet, yet they seemed more interested in imposing ludicrous restrictions on me so they could fool themselves into believing they were in charge and called the shots.
Think I'll celebrate with a fish supper tonight. However, don't think I've given up on my mission to expose Meadowbrook for what it really is, as there's plenty more I can tell you - and will!
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| Copyright relevant owner |
Two Willy The Kid badges, that is. There's a third one (though I'm unsure of their sequential order), which I intend to track down eventually, but if anyone has it and wants to sell, let me know. Willy was created by Leo Baxendale, his first character after he quit comics around the mid-70s. He produced three Willie books in all, though the third one had a print run of only around 10,000, compared to the first two, which were around 150,000 each.
It took me 31 years to obtain the third book, though I'd like to nab the third badge before too long, mainly because I don't know whether I have another 31 years ahead of me and I'd like time to enjoy owning it. Funny thing is, although I have a large collection of badges, I never wear any - I just like to own them and look at them every now-and-again. I really should've bought the trio of badges back in the '70s, but I intend to rectify this oversight as soon as I can.
Let me know if any of you Crivs would like to see any of my other badges and I'll dig 'em out.
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Okay, I admit it, I'm a lazy git, but why go to the bother of taking my own photographs when I can use the official ones from the company's site? I'm talking about my recent Corgi additions, one received yesterday and one received this morning (yeah, I know, on a Sunday too).
Yesterday, it was The Green Hornet's car, Black Beauty, and today it's the D.B.5 collection, all three of which I've already got separately, but I liked the box. Anyway, no more waffle from me, feast your eyes on these lovely images and think about acquiring them for yourself.
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| Copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd |
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| The escape committee at Meadowbrook, perhaps? |
Still no further ahead with matters pertaining to overturning Meadowbrook Care Home's arbitrary and spiteful decision to ban me from visiting my elderly and infirm mother, and thereby also denying my mother the opportunity of seeing me. An utter disgrace of a place, as any Care Home who'd prevent a 104-year-old woman with Alzheimer's and cancer from seeing her son doesn't deserve to be in business. And remember, they're only in business to make money, not to 'care' for people, which is only a by-product of their financial aspirations. They're also not against levelling spurious and malicious allegations in their desperate attempts to protect themselves from numerous documented complaints by concerned relatives.
However, I've been talking to a reporter from The Sun, which will hopefully lead to Meadowbrook and Enhance Health Care being exposed as the disreputable shower they undoubtedly are, and I'll devote the rest of my life to letting everyone know just what kind of organisation and people they happen to be. If you were thinking of allowing this place to 'look after' a loved one, I'd strongly advise you to look elsewhere, based on my own personal negative and soul-destroying experience. 'Welcome To Hell' should be the name above the door, followed by 'Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here'.
In the meantime, steps are being taken to try and get my mother moved to another, better Care Home, though I'm taking nothing for granted. The new Social Worker I spoke with on Friday seems very nice and helpful (unlike the first new replacement from a few days before - I'll tell you that story one day, rest assured), so hopefully that will lead to a happy ending in this ongoing sorry saga. I'll let you know what happens one way or the other.
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| Copyright relevant owner |
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| The following tale is similar to Poe's The Cask Of Amontillado |
Every night when I go to bed, I pass a small window on the hall landing halfway up the stairs. In fact, I pass it whenever I go up (or down) stairs, not just when I go to bed, but that's neither here nor there. I've done so for 50 out of the last 54 years, the four-year difference being on account of my family moving to another house after 11 years and returning here four years later. Regular Crivvies know the details already, so I'm just setting the scene for new visitors to Crivens.
When living in that other house, my way home from my Town's main Shopping Centre enabled me to see the landing window of my former domicile through a gap between a row of houses and a block of flats a little distance away. (Obviously, I could also see it when going in the opposite direction.) Sometimes, at night, the hall light would be on and the window illuminated, and I'd imagine I still lived there and was looking through a time warp to when I yet inhabited the house.
Now that I'm back here, it seems strange to think there was a period I could gaze on the exterior of the window from afar, and its interior is now once again part of my everyday life. Sometimes, I just can't help imagining, as I pause on the hall landing on my way up or down the stairs, that an ethereal younger version of myself is heading home to that other house and glancing over at the window behind which I stand, on his way back to a home he no longer lives in.
Cue Twilight Zone theme?
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| Copyright REBELLION |
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| Copyright DC COMICS |
