I have been wondering much about repeating myself. I’ve been wondering about the purpose of writing this blog when I’ve said what is to be said, when people in large organisations are using it to exercise control and wield their power.
There isn’t much more to say then I’ve said about this journey from the acute hospital to early neuro rehabilitation and onwards to residential and home care. Maybe it’s time to distill this journey into the essence of it all and write that book.
One thing I haven’t written about is how a little part inside of me dies each time I hear another, new shocking detail about the infuriating lack of care; or the inexplicable underuse of publicly funded equipment; or the lack of response to cries for help; or the nonchalant transfer to a nursing home of a perfectly alive young person; or the lack of education, training, and experience amongst the people in charge of caring and treating our loved ones; or blatant threats to families by health professionals; or the incredible lack of urgency to address life and death issues; or the disenfranchisement and incapacitation of survivors and their families.
But by writing about it, by repeating stuff everybody who wants to know knows already – will anything change?
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That’s how it goes