Whee’s Keys Are These?

Yes, I know, I have a bloody cheek! Hahaha I disappear for months on end and decide to randomly show my face! Hahaha You should all know by now I’m brazen as hell! #TrueStory

I honestly don’t know the last time I plagued your screens but a lot has happened this year, well, 2019, yes I know that’s nought fresh with me but you know, more than usual!

I’ve had a strange old morning. I looked at my phone and my “things to remember” and it appears to be 9th January, 9th January, why is the 9th January niggling at me? Care Manager visit, meet new carer, Karbon Homes replacing window, send cousin a message, send another cousin a happy birthday …. Nope, that’s not it! Meh, who knows, maybe my konked out, wonky, bashed up brain is misfiring AGAIN! All I know is that I want to spend today peacefully, I know, that in itself should have raised alarms! Hahaha Whilst talking to my Care Manager it hit me, the memory or the thought processor in my brain obviously decided to find out what was niggling me and do a massive fuck you, run a red light or crash through a road block, as it dawns on me, that today, the 9th January is the day that I was definitely not expected to survive, in 24 hours I’ll have come round and everything we all take for granted will be gone, most of it lost forever. Though I still like the part where I defied death several times and proved lots of very important, ridiculously educated and experienced Consultants wrong, that’s my favourite bit of the lengthy and compelling Lizzie Saga, oh yes, I have saga status now, I totally surpassed trilogy status back in 2017! Hahaha

So things you might have missed. May 2019 I got the keys to my very own place, I know, right!? Don’t worry though, there’s smoke alarms and everything! Oh you all know me far too well! Hahaha The place was let to me in a pretty poor state to say the least, considering and baring in mind it’s a disabled adapted property, like the person living here is less able, yes I know you lot all get it, but the powers that be obviously don’t seem to! There was even the prior persons hair and faeces still in the bathroom, not their fault I hasten to add! Again, emphasis on disabled property! Karbon’s solution was to give me a voucher for paint and a roller – WOW, gee, thanks! And who’s going to bloody do it!? Again, emphasising that it’s a disabled property! Oh it gets better!

So I move in (I’m purposely skipping a bit here) and I place my pride and joy, my clump of 14kg Himalayan salt lamp in my bedroom and it isn’t a very happy chappy at all, it starts to weep (melt) it’s soaking wet and leaving puddles where it sits (I’m sure that’s a line from a song?? Oh come on, I haven’t burst into song for at least 3 paragraphs, that’s bloody good going man, howay!) Maybe it’s because we’ve had some very humid days? Maybe he just doesn’t like my new home? (yes, he’s a he) Hmm? I move my salt lamp into the sitting room and he’s perfectly fine. As the weeks go by, I start becoming unwell with my long dormant asthma, I’m given two inhalers and a tablet to take on a nighttime to help me breathe, as it’s always nighttime that it becomes a problem. Hmm? Karbon send out a surveyor who promises to replace the leaking shower surround, flooring, tiling, shower seals, and the list goes on. Autumn comes and woah, what’s that dripping on my head!? The external porch is dripping water, then water starts running down my internal porch walls and mould starts appearing. It starts to get cooler so it’s time to put the heating on, two radiators don’t work and the ones that do, don’t heat up the house. HOLY MOTHER MARY! Right where I sleep at night, not more than a foot away, was and still is saturated and growing a great deal of mould spores – that’s why my breathing is so bad! I moved into the spare room, guess what!? Mould growing there too! Mould started growing on my windows and front door. In total I have had three visits from the same surveyor who’s tried every excuse in the book to avoid it being Karbon’s fault or responsibility, until she had to admit defeat on her third visit, because all her “advice” was quite frankly, avoidance and excuses. Now don’t be thinking only a few phone calls went back and forth, oh no my dear friends! I rang them, the local welfare officer rang them, the social worker rang them, the OT rang them, my care manager rang them, even our local councillor Cath Homer kindly supported me and went straight to Karbon Homes Sustaining Tenancies and Northumberland County Council. Yeah, as you can imagine things have started to move along quite quickly now, plus my care manager has brought our local MP onboard too.

We’ll park all the rubbish stuff about DWP for now, as well, you guys have a life after all and you can’t just sit here reading my wafflings, yes that is a word, I don’t care if it has a wiggly red line under it, it just makes it look more poignant and pretty! Hahaha Let me tell you some great stuff!

Despite it quite possibly being the house that bloody Jack built, I love living here and so does that little villain of mine, Dylan. He’s got everyone wrapped around his little paw, honestly, he’s ruined! He has his own little daily routine of calling on folk and waiting at their doors, the winter has really put pay to this routine as folk don’t tend to spend as much time outdoors, but Dylan doesn’t seem to understand this.

So I’ve already briefly mentioned the state my new little home was left in, so let me tell you about a canny little group of peeps who could quite possibly be the sneakiest, most sly and cunning folk I may ever have come across. But in the best way imaginable. I had some wonderful friends who rocked up and stripped every bit of ripped and smelly wallpaper off the walls, prised wobbly dado rail from every wall, even the bathroom. But most of the rooms had painted bare walls too or underneath, the skirting boards were various colours, mostly half finished mid brushstroke, there were random wires leading to nowhere and not connected to anything but still covered with coving. The only room that was grand was the kitchen which had just recently been updated and newly decorated. Everyday we’d all pile in, I’d get told to sit still in the corner on a camping chair and supervise. My Mam made so many sandwiches and plied us with so many treats and crisps, that my kitchen often looked like a corner shop! My intention was to just live in it and put up with the multi colourings and save up then do a wall at a time, like who was I kidding, I couldn’t manage half a wall never mind one! Anyhoo, I was at my Mams (still sleeping there) what with the move, the state of the property and DWP took its toll and I had one hell of a seizure, like we’re talking big time! Some will recall me highly praising my friend and neighbour for finding my Mam frantic in the street, and coming to literally pick me off the floor to safety. I know she’s tall but I’m no lightweight since my accident, so that lass must have had 3 Weetabix that day!

All I remember is the house being full of lovely peeps making sure I was ok. They kept telling me not to worry and they’d finish off cleaning the place and making it smell nicer etc. Me with my already bash up brain that’s just been struck with a thunder and lightening storm and ran a marathon, fell into a week of drowsy morphine and diazepam fuelled haze. One day I asked my Mam if the girls had been and dropped my house keys off, she looked a bit sheepish, just a bit, and said no, that they were still sprucing it up. Then I asked what day it was. “Mam, how has it taken them 5 days to spruce it up, they did shit loads before I had my seizure, there wasn’t much else to do?” I just got a shrug of the shoulders. A couple of days later I decided I was going to ask my mam to help me across to my new place. She suddenly needed to take Dylan out first. EVENTUALLY, she took me across, when I got there – OMGG!! The little sneaky buggers had poly filled, sanded, glossed and emulsioned THE WHOLE PLACE!! ALL OF IT!! The main two culprits had worked their absolute arses off, they gathered all their bits of paint and chipped in what they could, because they felt that if they wouldn’t live in it, in that state, then neither should I. They say that day, an extremely rare and unheard of phenomenon occurred …. I stood silent with my gob wide open in utter shock, and didn’t so much as mutter a word for at least 5 minutes, in fact they thought they’d broken me! Hahaha Then came the most grateful words to ever lay upon their tender ears “You little fuckers!’ Hahaha

I even had my very own Charlie Dimmock hack and beat her way through the very over grown, jungle of a garden, like we’re talking Day of the Triffids status here, not a few piddly Dock Leaves, oh no, wassa weeds and even Oak Tree saplings! Again, Karbon have been promising since before I moved in to tackle the garden. My Charlie Dimmock did it all in one day, then returned with the family to present and erect a birdie feeding station. It’s right outside my window. I love it, just this morning I had a beautiful little Robin, maybe it was a little messenger from Heaven?

But back to the point I keep incessantly making, this is a disabled property. What if I didn’t have these wonderful people in my life, what if it was a little old Nanna or a little old Granddad that had moved in here, with no family or friends to help them? Would Karbon still have let the property to them in the state they did me? My gut feeling is yes, yes they would have, and for that alone, they should hold their heads in shame. Would they have let their elderly disabled parent or loved one move into this property the way they expected me to? Again I strongly suspect not!

So there you go my friends, a little instalment. So much has happened and there’s so much to tell. I’m sat here in my little home, with Dylan snoring next to me after chasing the tennis ball, he dashed indoors before I could stop him, so my throws are smeared in mud, I have designer muddy paw prints through my hallway and all over my sitting room carpet, the new cushion I received yesterday as a late Christmas gift, is now personalised by Dylan with a muddy paw print, there’s a tennis ball in every room, yes even the bathroom and I haven’t managed to do my dishes, but it’s home, it’s our home.

#ThisGirlFuckingCan

Home or Dwelling – Relating to a place where one lives

2 thoughts on “Whee’s Keys Are These?

  1. I am SO SO glad you have wonderful friends that fixed your place for you Liz.It is disgusting what they expect us disabled people to live in.You have to promise me one thing …BEHAVE yourself in your new place and please please staying safe xx

    Liked by 1 person

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