After some considerable wrangling, the odd shouting tantrum and a series of carefully weighted and directed emails I managed to get delivery of a new hospital bed for my mother. Before this minor miracle occurred I was led down a merry winding pathway that wasted time, resources and my usually endless patience. It seems that the idea of calling for an ambulance, getting the crew to stretcher my mother into it for a short period, getting the husband of our wonderful estate manager to remove the old bed, myself clean my mother’s room and a medical equipment company to deliver the new hospital bed is something of a bridge to far concept for many people within the NHS. They (a number of highly positioned key workers) wanted to put my mother into a local care home for a whole week with people that simply didn’t know any of her personal or medical requirements. A phone call assessment from the manager of the care home told me that they knew nothing about my mother whatsoever. I knew that the idea of discontinuing my mother’s current care package, irrespective for how short that time would be, was a danger to her and not in the best interests of safeguarding. In my email to the funding group that was considering placing my mother into a care home for one week in order to put in a new hospital bed into her bedroom I wrote: “The manager of the care home called me on Wednesday afternoon during my time off in order to make an assessment of myself, my mother and all of the requirements that they need in order to establish care of my mother for one week. I felt the time, effort and trouble needed to supply my mother’s eating habits, drugs and whether she was capable of movement created far more problems than actually solved them. Nobody is taking any direct responsibility for this idea in any shape or form. I understand that the district nurses and the excellent carers my mother currently receives would in effect not be directly responsible for my mother if she were to be placed into a care home. This does not sit well with my mother or myself in any way whatsoever. Informing a third party contractor via administrative methods of the direct and bespoke care, love and attention my mother is currently receives is unacceptable not upholding of the high standards of safeguarding that I, my mother or her family require. If you have any other options then do please email me.”
Over the two weeks leading up to the move of my mother by the ambulance crew (which failed to put a neck brace onto her thus straining her bed ridden neck muscles) on Monday 17th July, a low level but persistent commentary from three district nurses was very much prevalent. The “you should put the hospital bed into the front room” comment surfaced again and again and again. There was little or no thoughts as to where I would personally be able to rest and decompress after doing 90 hours per week of caring for my dying mother. It seems that the “you should put the hospital bed into the front room” idea is not as uncommon as you might think. Indeed, I spoke to a number of people who expressed the fact that they too had been strong armed into considering this idea of turning their front room into a triage unit for the district nurses and a bedroom for a dying patient. After exploding emotionally on Thursday 13th July in front of but not directly at two deeply concerned carers my anger and rage was diffused sufficiently enough and I was able to direct my energy in emails which yielded the results I was seeking. If you don’t stand up for your own rights as a carer and the requirements you personally need in order to operate successfully you will be crushed and corralled into ideas and decisions which have no benefit for you or the person you are currently caring for. You must at all times firmly stand your ground. No reasons were given as to why the district nurses wanted our front room as a triage/bedroom ward for my mother. As you can see from the photo the new hospital bed fits perfectly in my mother’s own bedroom, which is where she wished to be in the first place. As for placing my mother into a care home the come back I received from a matron was; “We thought you could have done with the break.” No. I didn’t want a bloody “break”. Not if it was going to uproot and put my mother’s well being and care in danger. Stupidity it seems resides in all places and without any form of discrimination.
Exhaustion aside I am still practising Buddhist magick. The new moon on the 18th July proved to be a very good place to chant and cast spells which as it happens worked out beautifully before during and after. A new amulet is also a good belt to go with those braces in any testing and stressful situation. The Takrut Payakkaracha by Kruba Pornsit of Wat Sawang Arom in Chang Mai Province, Thailand proved its weight in gold this week. Kruba Pornsit was one of the most important monks of Serp Dtamnan, an organization created to preserve and keep alive the oldest magical practices of the Lanna people (those of North-West Thailand). This sublime piece of Lanna tiger magick in the original tiger faced casing direct from the temple supplies a heavy dose of Metta (love and compassion in the Buddhist tradition), Kong Krapan (invincibility) and Maha Amnaj (for power and leadership). Considering the week I’ve just had this proved to be a very welcome and sorcerous amulet that gave me the advantage I needed to organise, orchestrate and implement the vision I had in regards to my mother’s care and placement of the new hospital bed. The teeth on the tiger heads themselves are actually very sharp indeed. Good job. Working with the Wicha (knowledge) Suea (tiger) prevents one from being bullied into a corner. Calling upon the powers of the tiger is not in any way a form of lashing out or indeed attacking anyone. Tenacity, strength, stamina, resilience and power are the true hallmarks of the wisdom required to successfully wield this extremely powerful occult Thai power. Leaning into this amulet I found that any resistance I had from anyone previously very quickly fell away. Tiger magick if used responsibly can yield excellent results and also help those of your loved ones that need their rights supported when they themselves cannot.
In the still jungle of the senses lay
A tiger soundly sleeping, till one day
A bold young hunter chanced to come that way.
“How calm,” he said, “that splendid creature lies,
I long to rouse him into swift surprise!”
The well aimed arrow shot from amorous eyes,
And lo! the tiger rouses up and turns,
A coal of fire his glowing eyeball burns,
His mighty frame with savage hunger yearns.
He crouches for a spring; his eyes dilate—
Alas! bold hunter, what shall be thy fate?
Thou canst not fly, it is too late, too late.
Once having tasted human flesh, ah! then,
Woe, woe unto the whole rash world of men,
The wakened tiger will not sleep again.
The Tiger by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(November 5th 1850 – October 30th 1919)
Sheer Zed ~ Author • Buddhist Shaman • Musician 