Square Peg ● Round Hole

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If you all have been reading my blog recently, you are aware of the current saga of finding my mother a new caregiver. Her present one gave her two weeks notice to the agency, so I was assuming (you all know what happens when there are assumptions), that there would be a proactive solution. You know, have someone shadow her so the transition is smooth. I think you know what happens next.

On Friday, I called to see what the plan was, but there was no plan because the only people that knew she quit were those in Human Resources and they didn’t share that information with anyone else. The schedulers were confused and I was pissed. Trying to be in the solution, I implored them to formulate a plan. I was nice. I was patient. But, I was firm that it was unacceptable since it had been a week since they received her notice, and yet, nothing has been done.

I called again on Tuesday, but I waited until the afternoon to allow my point of contact to settle into the day, since it had been a long weekend. She was a tad defensive when I asked if we were closer to a solution. Um, I in turn, kind of lost my shit. Okay, I did lose my shit. But, I didn’t attack her personally, I just pointed out that if it is their mission to care for seniors, they are missing the mark. She assured me that there would be a plan in place by yesterday.

She called me late in the afternoon to share that they have a new caregiver in place to shadow the current one. Thank God. The only hurdle now is my mother. I pray she can be open-minded. I pray that this transition is smooth. My fingers are crossed and so are my toes.

Can I be honest? I am tired of being an advocate. This position has been part of my job description ever since Bailey was born. Fighting for his right to have services that should have automatically been part of his plan. Proving that he has Down syndrome, that honestly, should be pretty apparent.

I am not looking for pity. I am not unique in my situation. My gratitude is that I don’t this alone. I have support. I have the tools to take a timeout and replenish. It doesn’t escape me that I am one of the lucky ones. And, honestly, I wouldn’t trade the experiences that being an advocate has taught me. It has made me stronger, more assertive, and a fighter. Those are qualities that serve me well in the journey with Bailey and my mother. There is always gratitude to be found even if I have grown frustrated and impatient. All I can do is the footwork, be in the solution, and pray that it all works out. The gratitude is found in the results.