Looks like nothing changes.

It is now only 10 days since my last post.

It feels longer.

The last doctor call out, was just over a week ago.

Yet  another stranger, a tall attractive young Asian lady, with a dark green designer hand bag, lipstick, leggings.

With an assertively, confident, professional attitude, honed, no doubt, in her GP role play exercises.

The lady appeared to know nothing of the last 5 doctors’ visits, but professionalism allows no apology.

It must be ever confident, and in control, and adept at handling patients.

As usual we went through the refused examinations, symptoms, food, and hydration.

She knew nothing of the urine sample, left in earlier that week, and did not have a pooh sampler, but did proffer a list of causes-  food allergies,- unlikely as  not eating properly for weeks, and at 17 would have already kicked in.

– irritable bowel syndrome, which I proclaimed  a symptom not a cause, which surprisingly disarmed her.

Appendicitis was again my suggestion, and I promised to examine for pain.

Eventually, she left, no one the wiser.

Me promising a pooh sample.

Her appearing to realise she had forgotten to show compassion,

’ I know it’s not easy’, she said with a pained look, of sympathy,  and patrony, obviously in need of more practice.

We have heard no more from the doctor.

Isabel appears better, is not wrenching, but still not eating very much.

Last week in desperation, and as my husband was now home,  I asked for 4 days without the workers in the kitchen, to see if this would improve Issy mood, and get her out.

Unfortunately, the days coincided with that time of the month, when the bathroom  looks like a Psycho production, and the ibuferon is out.

But I really enjoyed the freedom of not having the awkwardness of the workers in the kitchen.

And the increasing inhumanity of having any pertinent comments I made, ignored or diverted.

No criticism of them, I feel  sorry for the position they are placed in, only of their prescriptive agency employer.

Again the workers are a service, forced to be professional.

Our social worker and her manager both want a meeting, I assume separately, re my formal complaint to the LA, which was eventually acknowledged, and now must be investigated by an ‘independent’ investigator, presumably more meetings.

We are certainly keeping, a lot of people gainfully employed in ticking boxes, increasing our stress, and as ever, wasting our time.

And more importantly achieving nothing for Issy.

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