Apology

From Social Services. A few extracts to underline that they recognise mistakes. Summary of a discussion.

Dear Ellen,

I also reiterated my previous apology to you for the distress the safeguarding process had caused you. I acknowledged that we had taken the information at face value and had not applied enough professional curiosity. That when considering information that is received, we must also consider any agenda in the manner in which the information is presented. I also confirmed that we had learnt from the impact of this enquiry where safeguarding concerns are raised by for and against family member…

You raised the issue of the key safe number, which had been changed following the commencement of the safeguarding process. This had been done without your knowledge and had potentially put you at risk should the emergency services have required access to your home. I confirmed I would follow this up with X and those involved as it was not acceptable to leave you without the correct code.
…
We discussed to the emotional consequences of the enquiry on you… I acknowledged and apologised for the distress of this and confirmed that there is no evidence that your mother was abused by you.

I acknowledged…:
That we must double check information that we receive to ensure it is accurate

We ended the call ended cordially…

I would like to reiterate my apology for my delay and the distress this process and caused you and for your lack of knowledge around the key safe number…

My thoughts.

The extracts are from a sympathetic response to my complaint but it was not shared with the others involved, i.e. DNs and GP. The accusation that I was messing with medication and putting pressure on carers can be found in the GP records, but it was information sent by Social Services to the GP that triggered the safeguarding enquiry.

It’s clear from the records that I have, that there was only one source for the lies. Ergo, they were always the same. Same wording. As noted before, there are no records of any activity by me that merited a safeguarding enquiry. On one of the two nights, one carer administered Oramorph because of pain. I’m not mentioned. I wasn’t there. What is significant is that two days after the second incident cited in the safeguarding report, the DN had to instruct the private carers to give mum the drug as she was in pain. (Yes, the carers left my mum in pain. Sibling didn’t like the drug and asked them not to give it. The reports speak of his ‘concern’ for his mother.

People deal with loss differently. Some siblings blame the other for a death or suffering. It’s common. However, mine had also refused to contribute to her care months before so it’s not just a case of dealing badly with imminent death. Recall, I’d been night carer for years, paid for her care since January 13th and for all the repairs, knowing I would never get it back.)

Back to various sources: sibling, and two carers. You’d think that Social Services would have been aware of the concept of grooming. The reports go back a while. They did not start on the 10th May. The word ‘concern’ can be found in various records. How many people use the same word for a situation? Why not ‘worried’. Or ‘unhappy’. Or ‘disagreed with’. I submit that there was one person who framed the issue in this way and that is how you come across it in various sources. There was no other word used to justify the allegation.

The fact that Social Services are the only agency not to have given me access to the records suggests they have to cover something up. And not just the fact that they knew that there was no way I had access to the drug so could not have told anyone that if they didn’t administer Oramorph, then I would. Well, I could have but then I’d have to spend hours looking for the bottle. In the middle of the night. All theoretically possible but why go to all that trouble when I was knackered? To make mum drowsier and more constipated? The dose was X amount 4 times a day. The records indicate that she appears to have had only one dose per 24 hours. She didn’t come close to an overdose.

The apology should have acknowledged the complete lack of supportive evidence. And it should have been sent as a round robin to the others involved in the witch-hunt. It didn’t happen and mud sticks.

This is serious stuff. For example, I had to change GPs and she doesn’t know me. I’m not being treated for weight loss and other potentially life threatening issues I’m no longer able to digest fats, so I’m shrinking. I can’t digest carbs. etc, so I’m malnourished. These false accusations and their effects could prove fatal and that’s scary. I have always respected documents marked ‘confidential’ but this time, it undermines justice not to flag up the limited recognition by Social Services that they made mistakes. Like not checking. Apologies to the department but until they put things right, this remains my position. And NB, I did not name the writer.

All I seek is justice.

Postscript 15th May 2021

Social Services emailed me yesterday that they understood that I had reproduced their letter on Twitter. They are clearly still not checking allegations. This is not good enough. Why am I a target for such ridiculous claims? Why now? Why still?

That’s very Dad

Found this description about my dad while clearing up. Ab the whistler. It’s from a book? by Jan Wortel.

His whistling is also documented in a book about dad himself.

When you are attacked, you need to remind yourself who you actually are.

I was a peer reviewer for many years. It’s hard work and you don’t get paid. Indeed, most journals don’t acknowledge your efforts. So to get this was very good for my self-confidence. The Annals are listed in the top ten general medical journals.

Eraser refused to work. Ergo, white squares. Anyway, the largest patient organisation for people with ME also recognised my work. When some are undermining you as an intelligent, caring person, this is just what you need.

And if that isn’t enough, there’s the British library’s decision to choose my thesis to be amongst the first to go online. Who at the Library read it and nominated it? Anyway, I now remember that I was considered a half decent scientist once. (Why did eraser work with this image)?

Next: Evidence that others perceive me as a decent, honest person. And who don’t mind me sharing it. Especially for the Department of Social Services and the District Nurses, who were informed by one or two people that I was someone totally different.

This is part of an old psych report. Yes, I admitted my unhappiness resulting from my disability and the unhelpful attitudes I was confronted with. That’s why I sought help from counsellors etc. Point is, I don’t manipulate, just as I’m not stupid. I’m not rude (one F word in 65 years), and most importantly, wouldn’t have done anything to harm my mother. As noted above, I paid for her care in 2020 when wealthier family members refused. I came downstairs in the middle of the night when I heard noises, and coaxed her back to bed. Tried to relieve her anxieties. Left her only when she was calm. And that, without using any drug. There are several reports like this, written to support applications for benefits but I need to find more recent observations.

One thing from a recent report. “Mrs Goudsmit, to whom I often spoke, told me how grateful she was for Ellen’s personal care and financial help, and even after she became mentally frail, she reiterated this in lucid moments.”

To be continued, as long as I am being attacked. As my future is uncertain, I want people to know the real me. Not the one portrayed by people of ill-will.

Easter one year on

This Easter, the first without mum, is hard. It doesn’t seem so long ago that she sat in her chair downstairs, and that a carer would be buying or preparing her lunch. Now it’s quiet. I don’t smell salmon, or anything else for that matter. There is no mug with tea, waiting to be sipped. No half eaten muffin. The TV isn’t even on.

I have my to-do list. About a week or so ago, I was given permission by the lawyer in charge of the estate, to begin clearing. I have pencilled in an hour this afternoon, to continue to get rid of my scientific papers. Then there is the boat race and Line of Duty to look forward to.

A few weeks ago, I began to feel very tired during the afternoon and early evening. I hope it’s a temporary thing. I had looked forward to good weather so I can spend sometime in the garden. I need vitamin D. But it’s not like last year. We can expect frosty nights.

There is a root canal to arrange, clothes to buy, an appointment with the hairdresser, I need new sandals that don’t make me feel seasick. My watch strap needs replacing. And while I want a covid vaccination, GP doesn’t think it wise to have the Pfizer. Too many allergies. The one jab Jansen has had production problems so won’t be available for years.

Last year, I had short chats during the day with mum. About everything and nothing. Now there is that empty chair. How my life has changed. She had a long life but hated her various health issues. She died peacefully on a sunny morning. I had no idea then that it was just the start of a roller coaster few months. That the noise would come from emails from solicitors. That these would break my heart. And there was no mum to sit beside for support. Just one year.