| I'm sick...not stupid...just sick!
I attend my hospice-day unit each Wednesday, and this week the doctor ordered blood tests. The results prompted him to arrange a home-visit for the following day, for the district nurse to take another sample.
Two nurses came... and the way they spoke to me was unbelievable: loud, falsely bright, sing-song tones of voice; and a sort of laboured enunciation, as if they thought I might have difficulty comprehending.
I'm not hard-of-hearing. I have no difficulty in understanding. There is no need to bend forward and use exagerratedly empathetic hand-gestures when addressing me. There is no need to punctuate conversation with little pats on my hand and shoulder. I'm routinely giving myself my Innehep injections, and do not need to be told "what a clever girl" I am.
I dread to think of the time to come, when nurses will have to come to my home on a daily basis to care for me, if this is the patronising way they treat their patients.
I just couldn't stand it.
|