Genuinely scared

The woman I love dearly is in the shower. She was hoisted into it by our PA Marta. A short while ago, Marta helped her eat, then go to the Loo. Marta also helped me eat, and finish dressing. She also helped us phone the council over concerns about a letter Lyn received yesterday. Without the support of people like Marta, we could not do such things; we cannot live as we do without our PAs. The level of support Lyn and I need is quite high, but according to this article, that support cannot now be guaranteed. Due to the abolition of the Independent Living Fund, ”Users are unlikely to receive the same level of funding after reassessment. This may undermine care packages and may mean that some users, such as those with particularly high care packages, may not be able to live independently in their own homes.” Never has a statement filled me with so much fear, so much worry: I love life with Lyn, in our little house together. It has already brought me so much jou, and I hope it continues to do so for a very long time. But a drop in support would mean institutionalisation, which would almost certainly mean the end of our life together. No more coffee together in the morning; no mor drinks in our little back garden; no more Bob Lawrence on radio Caroline; no more snuggling up at night. I hope to hell I’m worrying needlessly, but after what I’ve seen and heard today, I am genuinely scared.

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