Today we received a letter in the post from The Occupational Therapist asking us to contact her so she can arrange an appointment to visit us. We've only been waiting 18 months for this moment.
Due to Social Services involvement in moving us from our previous home, due to issues with Ana's noise sensitivity. (we lived in a flat under very noisy neighbours, which caused Ana to start self harming, including pulling out her eyebrows, eyelashes and most of the front of her hair). It was decided that a referral to the Occupational Therapist would be made so that changes to our new home to assist with Ana's needs could be made before we moved in.
We've been living in our new home since February 2008. Better late then never I suppose.
Finally we will be able to get the much needed repairs done to the side door, special cupboard locks fitted and a shower installed. Over the past 18 months we have been asking for our Housing Association's help with these matters and sadly all we have received are empty promises, the accusation that I am just a lazy mother and I don't supervise my children enough and even one well informed member of the Housings Association's staff telling me that Autism is not a real disability. I strongly suspect that this particular person also believes that wheelchair bound people are just too lazy to walk.
At least now we will have some clout when we ask for the minor adaptations we need just to make life run a little smoother.
On another note Ana respite care when extremely well, yet the carer was unable to tell me when she would be free for the next session as they days are changing from a Thursday to a Saturday due to Ana going back to school. She assured me that she was going to the office as soon as she left our home and would ring when she gets there to let me know. No phone call.
I have left messages both on the carer's voicemail and with Summacare. Again this pushes me to think that the respite we do receive isn't worth the hassle to arrange it every fortnight. I hate feeling so trapped and useless. You fight so hard to get something that it hardly seems fair to turn round and say, nope, don't like it.