Wanted. One rock, large, for hiding under.

Just one moment more while I stare into those eyes and drink in a dose of calm and try to remember all the things I haven't blogged lately.

Five years Mother has been in the Home.  
In that time I have put on 20kgs.
Taken on 6 more tablets a day.
Been diagnosed with Diabetes.
Been annoyed constantly by Diabetes Educator because they keep changing the rules.
Agoraphobia has been upgraded from mild nuisance to outright hysteria where my head whirls in LSD colours and I hang on to fences to make it home.
I have nerve damage to both feet which makes me fall over if I wear slippers but on the other hand (foot) since there's not much feeling, cold and frostbite hasn't worried me this winter. Circulation is still good, should have seen the blood when I stood on the broken glass.
Both legs look like I stole them from a passing elephant, too much fluid.
I have no friends in real life, I have only you precious lot who wander here to leave a comment every so often. 
And I am Mother's slave.
But Doc Marvin has bravely taken on my crappy health.
Pathetic, non?

Well there's more (as they say on those hideous commercials), the Home is going to be closed. Oh, they are trying to save it but at 90 seconds to shut down, saving it is not really on the cards.  They should have looked into it 12 months ago. Kingston Council would love the land for high density housing so why should they care about 30 residents.  Those fucking bastards of the Liberal party in Canberra who have labelled all pensioners as a drain on the country, sucking it dry of money forgetting that all pensioners  worked and paid taxes, have decided as of July 1 that all nursing homes must charge a bond. They have also dropped the amount of subsidy for each resident.  There are beds empty when, in the past, there was always a waiting list. So people coming through with Bonds in mind, are looking for single rooms with ensuites and ritzy furnishings instead of looking at the quality of nursing. 
One of Mother's roomies has a wealthy husband who went through all those ritzy homes and chose this one because of the view to the garden and Ma's friendly face and pretty space in the opposite corner.

They say 6 weeks before they know but I think it will be much sooner than that.  Are they going to help us find new places, no.  Will they help the poor of us that don't have a bond, no.  Will they pack up and move the residents, no.  Will they make sure the new place is somewhere easy to get to by bus or train, no.  Will they make sure that the residents won't leave Kingston and lose their doctor, no. Goodbye Doc Marvin.

After 5 years I thought I would have a life that didn't involve anyone but me, the cat, the possums and a passing mouse.  It seems I must go through the whole process again.  I have one, no, two bright lights. Doc Marvin likes the old girl and will help re-settle her if he can.  And the bitch cook who has constantly tried to poison then entire Home will never get another job. That goes a long way to making up for everything else.

Now about that large rock, make it big enough for me and blues eyes up there. You may now sob in your coffee and send truckloads of sympathy.