So, for those of you who might have been wondering what's up in my world, I will tell you. More drama. Sigh.
Last Saturday, I had my first active meeting where I actually got to work with a potential service dog. That part was awesome. She even gave the clerk a credit card for me, and I just automatically sat up straighter when I was walking with her. The only rough part was that her trainer was also there, so she was a little confused as to whom she was supposed to listen to. Now comes the paperwork and the fund-raising part. Bring it on. I need good things to work on.
But while I was waiting for the people to show up at the mall for this meeting, some random dowdy housewife came up to me and grabbed my shirt. When I asked her what she was doing, she informed me that I was exposed, and before I could get away, grabbed my bare breast and tried to rearrange it in my shirt/bra! I was stunned; it happened so quickly. She was gone before I could react at all, let alone appropriately, which Daniel and others have informed me would have been to run into her and scream to end the unsafe situation. Because that is felony assault.
Just for the education of everyone else, help is asked for. Anything else, where they touch you, body or chair without express permission, is assault. Do whatever it takes to get out out of the situation. I hesitated because she had two little kids with her, but that doesn't matter. Get yourself safe.
Sigh. I've had many people do unwanted things with my hair or my food or lots of other things, but that's the first breast grabber. So naturally, I posted a status update about it on Facebook, and many of my disabled friends chimed in with their similar stories. Then my sister added her two cents. The lady was just trying to help, she said, and I should be grateful. I was stunned by that too, as were a couple of people, including Daniel, who came to my defense, politely but firmly educating her in the difference between help and assault. I would like to say that she apologized and incorporate this teaching into her life.
I guess not. Because I am off her list of friends. Again. This makes me really sad, but I've decided that this time I'm not going to pretend ignorance and add her back again, like I mentioned in a blog surrounding her birthday. She's my sister so this should not happen at all, but as my long-time readers I have deduced by now, my family is really screwed up, especially when it comes to their reactions to me. Daniel is off of her friends list as well.
On the medical drama side, I have another UTI. And they prescribed to me the exact same antibiotic that I've told them repeatedly does not work for me. But apparently, it does for this particular bug. So we will see. In the meantime, all the regular side effects have shown up, with a vengeance. Sigh. Eight more days.
I'm still waiting for my shower chair, and the caregivers aren't being really friendly because some communication breakdowns which I have been working on, but which they are reluctant to accept as new reality. I have to figure out a way to vent my frustrations about caregivers not to other caregivers because it always gets back around. I don't do this on purpose, and I'm getting better because I am more conscious that I do it, but it's still hard mostly because they won't come to me when they have a problem with me. They tend to keep it inside or go to Daniel, both of which are inappropriate. If I don't know what's wrong, I can't fix it, so nobody wins. As a result of this, the daytime worker has started being gone most of the day after I get up, and not being nice when I ask her when she will be back. When she's done working.
I like the house, but this placement is not appropriate for me, because they're not used to dealing with people like me. They're used to dealing with people like my roommate, mentally challenged, go to an adult day care program, and unable to be aware of all the politics or talk back. So when the summer is done, I will resume my search for better places closer to transportation. But as far as the care model, where there is someone (supposed to be) here at all times, I don't think I'm going to get much better. Out in the community, as they say, I would only get about four hours of care a day, and then be screwed if some kind of accident happens in between. So I don't know.
That's all I have the energy to write about right now. Be well, everyone.