Dementia bollocks


When the Government finally woke up two years ago to the parlous state of our aged care system, I was not best impressed with their response. Having battled alongside my brother to find even private care for our senile parents (at enormous cost) I had the previous year discovered the depth of cynicism and depravity to which cash-starved State care homes and social workers have descended.
The response of Al Johnson the Chocolate Poltroon was first dishonest (‘£15 billion of new investment’ – of which £12 billion was, um, old investment) and then downright ridiculous: old people would all be treated in their own homes, he said.
Postie Al didn’t elaborate on where the already overstretched social workers would be unearthed to carry out this completely impractical task; nor did he explain who would look after the old folks for the twenty-two hours social workers wouldn’t be there. He merely said the eighty-pluses had been asked where they’d prefer to be, and they’d said ‘at home’.
Old people always say they want to go home. But they can’t: because they’ll blow themselves up or fall down the lift-shaft or pee in the broom cupboard if allowed to.
Johnson knew this full well. All of which was bad enough, except that (as predicted by this site’s predecessor nby) nothing ever happened. Some leaflets were produced with smiling old biddies on them. That’s it.
Today, the aged care activists quite rightly blagued some airtime to ask what had happened to this ‘new dawn’ in geriatric care. Because all they could see was deepening darkness. In an expression of probably unconscious irony, one charity director said that “The scheme has been nationally launched… but not as such rolled out locally just yet”.
Proof positive that most everything (however tragic) is, in the end, hopelessly funny.