Thursday, 1 May 2014

Celtic Illumination, part 387, Two aspirin and a Mulligan please.

I am sure that some of you are madly jealous at my meteoric rise through the ranks in the world of learning disabilities.  It’s only human nature, so don’t feel bad about yourselves.  And I know that being such a handsome fellow with the loveliest legs in all of Ireland will upset some of your too, but once again, I would say please don’t be jealous.  If it were not for humble people like me, hugely talented geniuses, blessed with good looks, wit and an abundance of charm you would not be able to see how grey and humdrum your own lives are.  But the one thing you must remember is that perfection like me just doesn’t happen; there was a purpose for me, a top dog in the world of the alpha male.  Don’t forget that behind every position I held was a purpose and that reason came from the double top secret cabal who were preparing me to take back the throne of Ireland.
I am sure that someone connected to, or actually a member of, the double top secret cabal became aware of the state of learning disabilities, not just in Liverpool and Manchester but throughout the country and realised that they were in a position to do something about it.  NWCS really were the worst company in the North West of England; however, many companies were on a par with them.  Despite the fact that the company was lurching to one side, badly, they still wanted to increase their business.  I honestly do not know how the company survived because the one key skill, that everyone seemed to have an abundance of was incompetence.  From feeling despondent with having far too many problems to address I was now, ‘firing on all cylinders.’
It wasn’t easy and unfortunately having proved that I was capable and not afraid of a calculator, more work was diverted my way.  Delia called me in and showed me an advert in a newspaper.  Social services were advertising for contract bids for three houses where fifteen people were being supported to live in the community.  I was told to prepare a bid for the contracts.  What they were not aware of was that I had a copy of Richard’s formula for submitting contract bids so was able to sit down and work the whole thing out.  I knew that Richard was a very good accountant so had confidence in his formula.  Normally people would underestimate contract bids and six months after winning the contract realise that they hadn’t calculated something like holidays or sickness absence into their final bid.  There was no going back and money would have to be juggled from one account to another.
The most valuable people or contract to get was of course the violent types.  People like the poor fellow in Liverpool who needed three people with him at all times would find himself, as we had, on a one to one ratio, this is how they made their money.  But sometimes contracts were simply handed over, no questions asked, no bids submitted.  One day out of the blue Delia tells me that a new fellow will be arriving at one of my houses where there is a spare bedroom.  Normally there would be a sort of process that people would follow.  Meetings would be arranged, an attempt would be made to relocate the person into an area where they had been born or had family, usually lip service.  The person would be introduced to their team which would be recruited and built up.  Time would be spent with the person in the area familiarising them with the surrounds.
This time I was told that the fellow was coming straight from Calderstones and was settling in to the house.  There were no files, no history, here he is, and he is now your responsibility.  Two elderly gentlemen lived in the house and it would be difficult to accurately describe their relationship.  They enjoyed having sex with each other, but I wouldn’t say they were lovers, or even homosexuals for that matter.  They had been having sex with each other ever since they had met in the asylum they had been locked up in.  They had sex with each other because there was no one else to have sex with.  There was always lots of inappropriate touching and feeling going on when I would visit and you soon got used to it, like having a wasp at a picnic.  How the new fellow would fit in to all of this was anyone’s guess.
I arrived at the house and with the team leader met the new fellow and a social worker.  I was told that the files were in the system and should arrive within the next day or two.  The social worker claimed not to know much about the fellow, he was acting as a sort of escort for the day.  The only thing we had to go on was his list of medication and neither myself nor the team leader liked what we saw.  The guy himself was fine, a nice, well-presented, twenty five year old.  He was a bit shy but in order to cater for the two old men who lived in the house most of the staff were elderly women who acted like mothers to the guys.  I contacted Delia and told her that I was not happy, I was told to get on with it, I didn’t know what I was talking about.
It was the following day that I was contacted and asked to drive across Manchester at high speed.  The new fellow had freaked out when inappropriately touched by one of the old guys.  The staff were barricaded in the kitchen, with the two old guys, while the new fellow, the one with the carving knife was freaking out in the hallway.  I arrived at the house about twenty seconds after the police.  About six policemen gathered at the gate of the house and I came to stand beside them.  I introduced myself and was surprised to be told that it was my problem.  At the moment this was private property and they had no right to enter the premises.  I would have to go to the main door of the house, entice the fellow with the carving knife out and when they could see him attack me they would intervene.
I know, that’s exactly what I was thinking.  I would see that all of the coppers were taller than me, they all had body armour, truncheons, CS gas and training for such events. I encouraged the loveliest legs in Ireland to carry me forward towards the main door.  The guy saw me and decided to come out and meet me.  Unfortunately he did not open the door and step out onto the front porch.  It would appear that he had forgotten how to use a door handle and made his attempted exit of the property look more like Jack Nicholson coming through that bathroom door in the film, ‘The Shining.’  I was desperately telling myself to think positively, to transmit the thoughts that I wasn’t here to hurt him; I was there to be his friend, to help him.  It was also getting more difficult to believe that a person in a frenzy could not focus on one specific target as he seemed to be making a good job of the front door.
I didn't mind him attacking the front door, I could always get another one, but I knew it was draining the energy from him.  The front hall looked as if Jackson Pollock had been let loose with some red paint and a brush.  I wondered about the best way to handle him when he eventually came out, it would all of course depend on how he chose to attack me.  Whatever way he came at me he was going on the deck until I could get the knife away from him.  It was in those few seconds as I waited for him that you really do begin to consider if you have made the correct career choice.  However I didn’t have very long to consider my options as he managed to get the front door open and charge at me.  Luckily he had tired himself out a fair bit and having to negotiate some steps couldn’t concentrate fully on me which allowed me to move in and catch him.
Basically I grabbed his wrists, put one leg behind his and pushed him over.  Thankfully the police were on us within seconds and I was pulled back to safety.  The poor guy was now handcuffed and taken to the waiting police van.  We needed to get him sedated and taken back to Calderstones.  People now wanted someone to blame but I had more important things to deal with.  The elderly female staff were really shocked, they had never seen anything like it.  The police packed up and moved off.    The two old guys enjoyed the diversion and I asked the team leader to see about getting the hallways redecorated and the front door replaced.  Delia wanted to see me to hear first-hand what had happened.  It didn’t appear that she wanted to complete a report or complain to Calderstones but gossip with her mates about what had happened at work.

Having debriefed Delia on what had happened I gave her the proposal I had worked out for the three houses she had asked me to bid for.  I was secretly pleased as I knew the figure was perfect, there would be no need to worry later in the year if there had been enough money in the contact for us to see it comfortably through.  She worked her way through the set of papers I had given her and then announced that I was asking far too much.  She reduced the whole bid I had calculated by thirty five thousand pounds.  There was neither rhyme nor reason behind her decision; it just looked the correct figure now.  I tried to reason with her explaining that her bid would see us short later in the year but she wouldn’t have it, she knew what she was doing, she had been in learning disabilities for a lot longer than me.  So how wonderful, not only was I sorting out a mountain of problems that existed now at NWCS I was helping create more down the line.  Ah well, at least I could see that there would always be work for me to do.

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