Crisis

One thing that frustrates me beyond all reason is people coming here to “check in” on me who haven’t read my notes.  I get it.  It’s busy.  There are many service users and few actual workers.  But come on!  On the drive to my house, at least have a cursory glance over my notes.  Don’t come here asking me what my diagnosis is: you should know!  I have a lot of patience for the fact that you do have to ask the same bloody questions every bloody time.  I do.  But it starts to wear thin when you ask me how old I am, whether I have a diagnosis, what kind of help I might like in the future- and this is the third time I have heard each question.  It is wearing very thin, indeed.  I get so irritated by this.  To me, it shows a lack of interest, a lack of care and an inadequacy when it comes to actually being able to help people.  I get it- it’s the first and probably last time you meet someone from the Crisis Team every time they come.  I don’t expect to have my eye colour recalled, or my history pinpointed.  But I DO expect somebody to have read my notes and know a little about me before entering my personal space at a difficult time and asking often intrusive questions that make me feel uncomfortable.  I know- the questions have to be asked.  So I swallow my discomfort.  I know- resources are limited.  So I make allowances.  But if there is ONE thing you can do, it is at least skim the notes before you ask me to swallow or allow or be patient once again.

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