Please put yourself in the position of the disabled people who are losing their ILF support, understand how fearful they are about the future and join them to say no, that's enough. This is one cut we really do not need to carry out. Ask your MP to reinstate the ILF and give dignity back to those disabled people who require a high level of support. It's not too much to ask.
As a young person living with a parent who has a terminal diagnosis, I've discovered a fairly considerable hole in the people-dying-support-system stuff. There is a lot of support out there for children with a close family member who is dying; there is a fair amount of support for spouses and for parents of people who are dying.
I, for one, think the world will be a much less joyful place if we seek to eradicate Down's syndrome. We will lose an honesty, simplicity and beauty that we can ill afford to live without. I will not judge you, whatever path you take, but I know that there is no test for the bright, feisty, gorgeous young lady in our family.
This day each year encourages people to take just five minutes out of their day to hold a conversation about mental health with friends, family, colleagues, or anyone else you can think of. Participants can log their five minutes on the Time To Change website in the hope of gaining an idea how how much time was spent on this day talking about mental health.
They are going to be feeling frustrated, confused and completely overwhelmed sometimes if not most of the time so it is important that you know some hurtful things that they say to you, they do not mean so don't take it too personally as it is just the illness talking and they will most likely apologise sincerely for it sometime after it has been said.
I cannot judge you, though many do. For you are one of the few that braved the storm, paved the way, created change for those of us who came later, whether you realise it or not. Your resolve has taken a battering, you cannot let go of the dream of a simpler life, yet it is precisely this lack of acceptance that has pushed you to your very limits.
Hubby is a patient man. Strong, loving, considerate too, but mostly patient (in the extreme). He has a tough job sometimes - he has me. Granted, I have my good points (too many to list, obviously) but then there's also that nasty cloud/dog/bubble aspect just waiting in the wings, ready to pounce as soon as I let my guard down. And when it pounces on me, it pounces on him too.
The on-line Parkinson's community is a great way of connecting through the Internet with others in the same boat. I was truly touched by a new contact I made with a fellow Parkinson's sufferer. My article this week is about an ordinary Joe, just like you and me, except his name is Kendall Lay and he is far from ordinary.
Today's post follows an interesting interview I had on the radio. The interviewer, through no fault of his own, clearly had no understanding of baby loss. He sadly resorted to many clichéd lines, which are regularly handed out to those who are unfortunate enough to know first-hand the sad reality of losing a much wanted child.
Hubby pointed out once that there may be people reading this who are trying to understand what someone who is depressed is going through, why they are acting the way they are, and I hope I've been able to give you some insight into that. I'm sure it's different for everyone, but for me, this is how it manifests.