Dishonerably Discharged

So dad was discharged from hospital today.

Charlotte and I had worked very hard hard from the moment dad was admitted to ensure the services in the NHS understood dads condition and would only discharge him if they had enough care in place at his home. Not physically as much as mental help as the disorientation he would feel moving back to his home would allow his memory and korsakoffs to kick in and he would find it hard to decide to eat or shower or... basically do anything.... left to his own devices dad doesn't wash, eat properly, do washing... anything. Up until this point, Charlotte is the best person in the world at getting him to do anything like this however with added pressures and the success of her own recent projects she is extremely busy and we can't be there as much as we would like. Certainly not daily.

The mental health services, the occupational therapists and the ward all assured us that dad would be ok under their home care and set to discharge him today at 10.00 with the care team in place at 12.o0 to asses him at home and provide what would be needed to help him further.

What actually happened is that they sent him home in the hospital transport at 10.00 with a plastic bag full of medicine (He already has in a nomad system with all his medicine in - a daily labeled box which he is capable of taking) which he had no clue of what he was supposed to take.

At 2pm Charlotte called him to see if he was ok. No care had turned up. So we called the hospital to be told that they never provide care on a Friday and that they don't know where this information would have come from. From then on it was a case of me calling round the various departments (This picture was on the way to the ward dad was staying in at the time) to find out where the problem had occurred and to try and sort it out. What I found out was that none of the departments actually speak to each other, have any correct information about each other and that information is not passed on between members of staff on shifts (even though all this is n dads records) so they don't actually understand he has a mental health problem.... What I DIDN'T find was anyone in the 3 departments of the NHS Northern General Hospital Sheffield to either own up that they had cocked up or willing to take the problem on board and sort it out for me - Between myself, Charlotte, My sister Sarah and brother in law Antony we managed to find some help and care for dad at about 11pm that night after much stress and anxiety....

Dad is home now with some care - which now he doesn't want or feel he needs. He's playing the care teams for fools and wrapping them round his fingers... So perhaps it was all futile anyway... ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!