Over The Sea To Mull
Written by James McKillop, Scotland.
I have just returned from a week's respite and am still shuddering. Replaying back to May 2006, my wife Maureen asked our Social Services for a week's respite. They took months to reply as they were never in to answer or return calls. Eventually after involving our MSP we received a written reply from the Head of Social Services offering us eight weeks respite in a care home.
This was totally unsuitable as I really need to be galvanised to keep abreast of things and had heard horror stories of unsuitable respite, where people came home traumatised and the carer had to spend weeks picking up the pieces.
In April I went to Shared Care Scotland's conference in Dunfermline and met up with Donald and Diane from PSS Kirkintilloch who had a stall. They told me of a respite scheme which Glasgow City Council funded and had already bought weeks which were underused. It was my wife's responsibility to get me to the pick up point and return for me, or arrange with the carer to pick me up, paying for their time and transport. Phillip and I visited the PSS premises and were satisfied it was worth pursuing. There were various places available and I opted for Mull. I had to get an assessment from my Social Care Worker and PSS came to my house to go over my care plan, and we agreed I would try it out.
My son Ross and his girlfriend Natalie drove me to Oban where he handed me over to Carol and Peter, who took me on the boat to Craignure in Mull, then drove me to their house which operates as a B&B. I had my own room with a large TV with SKY, video player and videos and a small library. My window overlooked sea Loch Scridain. They had three cats and three dogs which I knew about before I went. They kept hens which ensured a fresh egg for breakfast. If I went out I had to pay for both myself and Peter and again this was explained before I went, as it was reasonable he was not out of pocket.
I have had some long standing ambitions. One was to visit Staffa which I had seen in passing thirty six years ago. We were able to get off the boat and clamber along to Fingal's Cave. It was breakthtaking. If possible I will go again.
I also visited Iona, another ambition, to visit the marble quarry, now played out. After a long trek, Peter and I failed to find it. (If I go back I have a volunteer Jane, to take me direct to the quarry) I did find a stone on a path which might be Iona marble. I visited mother and son, Diane and Richard on the other side of the loch. Diane had a fantastic garden which she had wrestled from a field and is a tribute to her hard work. I saw plants I had never seen before.
Richard showed an interest and asked me about my life and gave me a reindeer's horn, another thing I had coveted.
Peter, on learning I missed driving, thoughtfully let me drive up and down the beach at low tide on his quad bike, to give me the feel of driving. It was exhilarating - no one to run over and escapades on a pushbike. Oh to be young again!
The cottage was isolated and it was a twelve mile journey to get my daily papers. The isolation suited me as I had things to ponder over and crosswords (to keep my brain active) to complete and at night one of the cats adopted me and came into the room to keep me company until bedtime.
Time quickly passed and Peter took me back to Oban to meet Maureen who looked the better for her respite. Like me she had a restful time.
I am still shuddering. What would I have been like had I spent the week in a care home? I need stimulation to survive. It would have been a harrowing experience and maybe have taken up some time to get over it.
I had a fantastic time and that is what respite should be. Both the carer and the cared for person should both benefit.
