Love, Marriage and Caregivers
I like very few people, which over the years I have learned is fine. I like everyone to like me, which I don’t even comprehend and find to be a thoroughly repulsive trait I possess. Audrey shares this peculiarity with her mother and together we are very misunderstood.
Although I like very few people, I like pretty much all specimens and types of people as long as they are open-minded. We live in South Georgia — in a town so small they closed the one Dairy Queen in town for a funeral in July, which is awesome but so small town — very few here are very able to be open-minded.
Bear has had his fair share of caregivers. Some were beneficial and some were suck-tacular. Our last caregiver was with us through a lot and was a pretty good one. She recently moved and had to quit. Bear and I were able to hire a new caregiver ourselves and that has been most of life the past month.
Bear and I receive our caregiving services through a company called, “Caring Hearts,” at least I think that’s their name. They annoy me. Companies are middlemen. They are good in most scenarios but not for Bear and I. The company provides a back-up caregiver if your caregiver cannot make it to work and makes sure the carer does what needs to be done.
In Chicago I didn’t have a company and there was no middle-man. Until this time in Georgia, the company placed a caregiver with us and each time we received a new caregiver it was a game of Russian Roulette, each time the doorknob to our home was opened on the caregiver’s first day was the same as a finger on trigger.
We never met the carer until that first day. From then on they were with us every single day.
We have bad luck. Bad luck is who I am. I’m not a “leave it to chance” person, so thankfully we were allowed by the company to find a replacement caregiver ourselves and do interviews. The town is really teensy. Not many people applied that had credible credentials…not that you need many.
CPR and License.
Finding a new PA is the worst thing in the world to me. It makes me nervous and full of anxiety at all times. Until a good week after the PA and I have a routine — I feel like I’m being chased by a great white shark, probably named Jaws, for the entirety of the experience.
After many unsuccessful no-shows Bear remembered our neighbor was a former paramedic. He saw her walking her Chihuahua one night and offered her the position. She was able to take it. That next day she signed all the paperwork and became our new PA. Having a PA that is our neighbor is magical. Not Harry Potter’esque magical but “mmm, I kinda always dreamed about this” magical. I told myself all my dreams would come true.
You can have it all but not all at once.
This weekend is Scarbash at West Ridge Church in Dallas, Georgia, I’m pretty pumped for the event. Ry and I are driving up with some friends to hear Ward Foley, (AKA Scarman) speak and meet some new people.