I head straight to a care home to complete a recommendation for continuing health care funding. The patient is in his 90s and in poor health. I meet with his family, and together with the specialist nurse, complete the assessment. Having worked with his family for years, it is an emotional morning.
Afterwards I head back to the office where I start panel applications, update records, return calls and make appointments.
The morning is spent with a Pakistani family caring for an elderly relative with dementia. They request some information in Urdu. However, when I get back to the office, I’m shocked at the lack of any leaflets written in any other language than English. I’m based in a multicultural city, so this feels like a real omission. I ask the local council publications team for help.
I complete the panel application I started yesterday, check my spelling and submit it for approval.
The daughter of a client calls, anxious about finding a care home for her mother and how she will fund it. She’s under pressure from other family members, none of whom are supportive and she’s feeling overwhelmed.
After our team meeting, which goes on forever, I rush off to a hospital for a Care Programme Approach review. This patient is settled, and the care team there is dedicated and skilled, so it feels like a good start to the day. I provide feedback to the family (who couldn’t attend) and return to the office to write up the details while they’re still fresh in my mind.
The local police public protection unit phone me and ask for details about a safeguarding referral. It’s a complicated case, with difficult family dynamics involved. They invite me to a multi-agency meeting next week and I hastily re-arrange other appointments to fit it in.
Then it’s time for yet more paperwork. As I start to write up some notes and tend to a tribunal report the computer crashes. There is loud and spectacular swearing from my side of the office.
I call the Office of the Public Guardian for advice about lasting power of attorney. It’s a useful conversation and they are helpful and supportive. I speak to this patient’s care coordinator and we arrange to meet to discuss our next steps. We are concerned that the attorney is not acting in their relative’s best interests. We plan a meeting and I update my manager on the situation.
A new member of staff needs guidance about best interests meetings, and a student asks me about capacity assessments. Just then, a nursing home calls to demand I move my client from their home as they say they can’t meet his needs. Next, a call comes through from the hospital team about a patient who’s a delayed discharge. The computer system crashes again. If I had a cushion to hand, I would press it to my face and scream into it.
This week feels longer than usual. I call different homes to find vacancies for the two clients from yesterday. I ask for information about costs and vacancies. I finally find two which may be suitable and arrange for them to assess my clients.
I speak to the local Admiral nurse about support for the daughter trying to find care for her mother and she agrees to see her later that day.
Funding has been approved for the care package I requested so I email the brokerage team to find a care agency as soon as possible. I update my notes and call the family.
Finally, I call IT and log the issues with my computer. I try very hard not to swear.