Living next door

Only few friends have known why I've been so sad recently.  Only a couple know that I live next to an old lady with dementia.  She lives alone.  She has carers come in 4 times a day which she thinks is too much and everyone else thinks is not enough.  She's never gone out much when well and when they did, would phone the other neighbour sometimes 4 times a day to make sure their home was still okay..  She's never liked people, or the countryside, or healthy food, or life basically.  Her husband was the same until he died   he would put out his bottom lip against many, many things.  They had their own way of doing things and we would clash often but, surprisingly, were quite good friends and they loved the pups.  I took them around often.

He died a few years ago.  She had a fall and now this is a lady, with dementia, that shouts all day.  She shouts at night.  She shouts in the morning, afternoon and evening.  Every breath has a shout at the end.

When she falls asleep, or just shuts up for a while, her neighbours on all sides listen intently to see if she's still alive.  she's taken over our lives.

One neighbour goes in and washes her hair, being berated all the time she's there.  She has this neighbours phone number and one day phoned her 80 times demanding she go around.  When we do she shouts.  Constantly.

Finally, after a long time of not being able to live properly, no peace and quiet at all, (I live in my bedroom as you cannot do anything in the living room without her getting worse) we asked the housing managers to step in and help.  We didn't make a complaint, we asked for help.

That was ages ago and nothing has changed apart from the fact she's now louder.  The housing managers have had reports put into them of abuse from people going past hearing her screaming.  She's not being abused.  She just shouts and screams.....a lot.

So all of us have to live with this noise, day in and day out.   The heartbreaking cries of, 'help me! Help me!' even whilst the carers are bustling around her, helping her.  She hates the carers.  They are black, she is old style racist.  I was there one day whilst she told me how thick they were and how they did everything wrong.  I told her they put up with her and that she should remember that!  I've not been back.  Does that make me bad?

So if sometimes I appear crotchety, I'm sorry.  I'm putting in for a move.  She has a home waiting with nurses on hand but she won't go... So she shouts and sometimes I cry with frustration.  I need to move.

Watch this space.