Tag: True

  • Here’s What Happened When I Said Bloody Mary

    Here’s something to brighten your morning at my expense.

    Does anyone remember that urban legend about Saying Bloody Mary in the mirror in a dark room/bathroom? We all were shit scared to do in like primary school??? (I was).


    Well I was going to bed turning the lights out and it just randomly popped into my head. I thought ‘I am a grown ass man in my mid 20s it’s finally time to try it, I am fearless.’
    So I actually did It!!


    AND I SHIT YOU NOT MY AIRWICK TIMED AIR FRESHNER WENT OFF NOT A SPLIT SECOND AFTER THE LAST BLOODY MARY “TSSSSSSSST!”
    AND ITS GOT A FUCKING RED GLOW FOR AMBIENT EFFECT. SO MY ROOM LIT UP LIKE THE ENTRANCE TO HELL
    I SCREAMED SO LOUD I ACTUALLY PISSED MYSELF. PISS LEFT MY BODY! AND I FELL SMASHING MY CUP HOLDER AND DRAWS.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/KJayCultureNewYork

  • Horrific Care Home Abuse Please Help Us Get Justice

    The police have confirmed we are entitled to share our story about Mona Cliffe Care Home, Littleborough and the main abuser Lesley Hainsworth. I will warn you, this may make you cry. No one living with dementia, or vulnerable in anyway, should have to go through this.

    Please help us with our call to action and share this story far and WIDE. Thank you.

    You can help by signing the petition, here: https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/258498/sponsors/new?token=OktxwPDveFuoiJguB1QP

    “Help me! Help! Help! Help! Help! Help!” he cried over and over again, shouting to try and raise the alarm. “Shut up you idiot! Shut up!” was the only response he got as he was roughly assaulted, and pressure placed on the existing sore.

    “Get your legs in bed! Get your legs in bed! If you don’t, I’ll take you downstairs and leave you alone in a dark room. Now get your legs in bed!” The woman eventually storms out the room shouting “Oh bog off” leaving him sat alone in the dark.

    Alone in the dark, he calls out for help “Freda, Fredaaaaaa!” No response. The man takes off his wet underwear, grabs a towel and attempts to clean himself. Eventually someone arrives “Get your legs back in bed!” The man listens and gets his legs back into his wet bed.

    A few moments later he is in such discomfort he gets back out of bed. Another person enters the room and asks if he wants to get up. “Let’s get this wet t-shirt off you” she says, and carefully puts a clean one on. No washing or bathing involved. The woman asks what happened when he was on the carpet and hurt his back. He responds,” She pushed me”. The woman says, “no one here would you push you”. He responds, “You weren’t here when it happened”. As she gets him ready to take him downstairs for breakfast, he says he needs the toilet, the woman tells him to urinate where he is “you won’t leak, you have a pad on”.

    Its 7pm, the man is weary, he is distressed, he is cold and can’t get warm, sat alone in a room with no heating as the snow falls outside. He has no drink, no means to call for help, and he cries when his granddaughter walks in “I need to go to hospital”. His granddaughter touches his hot face, his head hangs low, he brings his cold hands and little blanket up to his chin trying to get warm. He shivers. His granddaughter asks if he needs a drink? “Yes please”. She seeks out help and a drink and asks for the GP to be called, she is worried her Grandfather may be displaying signs of wound infection. The carer expresses concerns that the man may have had a TIA. She refuses to turn the heating on, saying “I don’t do heating”.

    That night the GP arrives at 10pm. He enters the bedroom of the man, with the same woman who shouted at him the previous night. She suggests that the GP was only called to appease family and they have no concerns. The GP checks temperature and pulse and leaves. He doesn’t check the red raw sore covering half of the mans back because the woman tells him its already been checked.

    The man wakes, mutters his bed is wet through and begins calling for support. Forty minutes later the woman arrives. Does she slap him? We’re not quite sure. Her arm is just off the edge of the video footage. The man says he doesn’t want her there. “You can lay in pee for all I care” is the response. She instructs him to move, her colleague suggests using the proper equipment, the woman threatens the man “I’ll get the hoist, shall I?” Eventually he is able to make his unresponsive body, do as he is being asked. “It’s hurting me” he says. “You will hurt!” She responds, “I’m not pissing about anymore, everyone’s too andy pandy with you. Ridiculous!” and she instructs the other woman to ensure the head of his bed is put down “he’s not getting up again!” and they leave him alone in the dark, restrained, once more.

    One hour later he begins to try and get up, but it is a huge struggle because of the position the bed is now in. The restraint of the bed however is not enough to stop him and eventually he manages to sit up. This time the alarm does not sound. He calls for help, but again, there is no response. He uses all of his energy to muster up the courage and coordination to stand, and he stumbles to his door, again calling for help. No response. He falls into his chair, and then sees his commode. He tries to get to his bed, nearly cracking his head against the wall as he crash-lands backwards onto his mattress. Recovering he leans towards the commode, but he cannot open it. Eventually he gives up. He attempts to get himself dressed, spending 20 minutes trying to get his socks on, both socks end up on the same foot.

    After 40 minutes a woman eventually enters the room. “What are you doing?”, “Drying myself” he says wiping his body with the bed sheet. The woman who told him to ‘bog off’ the night before enters and tells him to stand up “You can when you want to!” After several attempts to stand she shouts, “You’re going in that hoist, we’re not messing about!”

    Confused the man says, “Take your glasses off”, “No I won’t take my glasses off, you’re not bossing me around! I’m telling you!” The man tells her to get off “No, I won’t get off” she shouts, as he cries out in pain. He shouts “get off me” again and is ignored as she roughly pulls a hoist across the bottom half of his back that is still weeping from the huge sore he has. He cries out again “Give me a minute?”. “No, you won’t do anything we tell you so you’re going in the hoist!”

    The hoist is carelessly and roughly attached. Nothing is placed around his legs to aid his standing and take pressure away from the sore on his back. He cries out in pain over and over again. “Shut up you idiot, shut up!” he begins crying for help. “Help me! Help! Help! Help! Help! Help!” he cried over and over again, shouting to try and raise the alarm. “Shut up you idiot! Shut up!” was the only response he got as he was roughly assaulted, and pressure placed on the existing sore.

    Now she pulls and pushes him using the hoist strap wrapped around his painful sore back that is still a large open wound, a category two pressure sore. She grabs his wrists forcefully and her colleague grabs his legs with no warning, and they swing him around on to the bed. He calls out in pain again. “Shut up idiot!” is the only response. He gives up crying for help, resided by the fact that no one will come. They turn the light off and leave the room in silence. Again, he is left alone.

    He gets up right away. The woman comes back “We’re fed up of you. Everybody here is fed up of you! Get in bed! You’re waking everybody up. GET IN BED!” She leaves and the other woman returns. He gets his legs back in bed, she pulls the cover half over his body and he says, “thank you”. She leaves. “They don’t realise what they are doing” he says to an empty room.

    Much later he is in so much discomfort he calls out in pain. He calls for help, calls for his wife. After 40 minutes someone comes and says she will be back. Another 15 minutes and they return. “Is he asleep, friggin’ leave him!” then immediately pulls all of his bed covers away from his body. He lays there unable to move half sat up, half lay down skewered across the bed with nothing, not even underwear on the lower half of his body. It is dark outside. She turns the tap on “Oh its bloody cold! How are we meant to clean them with cold water” and then proceeds to roughly scrub the man a with the freezing cold flannel. He cries out in shock and discomfort. He is lay on the sore part of his back, his calves hanging over the edge of the bed, his head lifted off the mattress, but he can’t get up. He cries out in pain “Oh shut up! You’re having a wash, because you stink! Because you peed everywhere”. “I didn’t” he proclaims. “Yes, you did!” She proceeds to wash him with the unrinsed and cold flannel, on his face.

    She raises the bed and continues to move him. He calls out in pain, he is in so much discomfort. He cries “you’ve got to get off” almost as if using his last ounce of effort. “No, I won’t get off!”. She surprises him with cold deodorant sprayed near his under arm and he calls out in shock. “Are you a man or a mouse?” she laughs at him, the colleague laughs at him too, and they both laugh at him together while he sits undressed in front of two strangers he doesn’t know with no dignity or energy left in him. “I think the more you andy pandy with him…You’ve just got to get it done, haven’t you?” The colleague agrees. “It’s freezing downstairs” she says as they get him into his wheelchair and shout at him to “SIT” he calls out in pain again and again.

    This was my Grandad. A few days earlier he had been happy at my Nana’s 80th birthday out with all of the family. He got so upset when we had to take him back to the care home, he had been living in for less than two weeks. We as a family had tried to take care of him at home, but his mobility and large physique meant that we couldn’t physically do it. All those years playing rugby for Littleborough had given him some huge muscles!

    My Grandad went in to Mona Cliffe on Monday 14th January 2019. He was walking, talking and happy in himself. Within a week they said he couldn’t walk, and they wouldn’t allow family to use his walking frame with him. We were concerned and so asked another care home to come out and assess him. Due to the snow, they couldn’t do this for another week. When they came out, they discovered a huge pressure sore across half of his back. They immediately reported it to adult safeguarding and requested a GP come to see him right away. The following day when family asked, the GP still had not been contacted. Family did it on his behalf.

    One staff member said he did it to himself, apparently, he threw himself down on the floor in the lounge and shimmied across the floor and caused a carpet burn on his back. Another said he fell off his bed and did it on the floor shimmying across the floor in his room, laughing with his trousers down. The doctor said it was a pressure sore. You can see the sores in the images below. How had this gone unnoticed?

    Our concerns with the home led me to purchase a hidden camera. We had the hidden camera up for less than 48 hours before removing him from the home and taking him to hospital as we had nowhere else to go. The hospital staff were horrified at the bruising and pressure sore my Grandad had. My Grandad told the nurse he had been hit by the staff there. He was severely dehydrated.

    My Grandad died three weeks later. His death certificate stated he died of Sepsis (Blood infection), caused by a severe urine infection. Secondary cause of death was Acute Kidney Injury.

    My Grandad was a great man. He was on the committee for Littleborough Cricket Club for many years. He used to call the Bingo on a Friday night there when I was younger too. My Grandad was a kind, caring, loving Grandad. He was always singing and smiling; he was a very special man. He was so polite, a gentle giant. He isn’t here anymore, and we as a family blame Mona Cliffe for that. The majority of the staff there were absolutely awful, although there were a couple of nice people working there too.

    The main abuser of my Grandad was Lesley Hainsworth, the woman in the photo below. She was suspended from work and interviewed by police. The police took several agonising weeks to determine if they could prosecute her for her actions caught on camera. Eventually they decided that the evidence we had provided on the video (all of which is written above) was not enough to reach their threshold for prosecution. So now this woman is back working at Mona Cliffe with vulnerable adults. Please do check your loved ones are safe. We do not want this to happen to anyone else. We were informed not to speak publicly about this until after the investigation came to completion. Otherwise we would have done it sooner.

    Three months after our first request, and we are still waiting on Dr Sharma the owner of Mona Cliffe to provide us with my Grandfather’s records.

    What is our call to action?

    1) The Police prosecution threshold should not be so high. The abuse my Grandad received falls under four abuse categories as part of the law provided by The Care Act. Institutional Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, and Neglect. There are more than 25 separate types of abuse reported on my Grandad under the four categories. The Police threshold needs to be lowered.

    2) All care homes should have a booklet provided to families about the minimum expected requirements and who to contact if you are concerned, they are not being met.

    3) Audio recording technology in all care homes to prevent vulnerable people being treated so cruelly.

    4) The CQC should be updating their reports when serious complaints like this are submitted. Apparently, there was a similar serious complaint about Mona Cliffe 12 months ago. If we had known this, we would have not placed my Grandfather in their care.

    https://www.facebook.com/JusticeforGraham/

  • We Need A World Full Of Genuine Amazing Women

    I’M NOT PERFECT

    God only knows that is true.

    I say the wrong things, often.

    I make the wrong choices, daily.

    I overlook life’s important things sometimes and become bogged down in the shallow end.

    I occasionally judge others with the harshness I view myself. And that is wrong.

    I am most definitely not perfect.

    I am not a perfect partner, daughter, colleague, friend, parent or lover.

    Some days, it is all I can do to keep swimming, to stay afloat.

    Other days I feel like I could take on the world and win.

    But mostly, I lumber through the days blindly, hoping for the best.

    I may not be perfect, my friends.

    But you know what I definitely am?

    I am myself.

    I am genuine.

    I am kind.

    I am true.

    I am human.

    I am trying to be better.

    Every day.

    And perfection may continue to elude me for evermore, but it really doesn’t matter.

    In fact, perfection may well be a myth.

    For I have never seen it.

    So, don’t judge my imperfection please, unless you have reached that sacred place already.

    Instead, why not join me here in the real world.

    A world full of genuine, ‘normal’, amazing women – getting it wrong every day… and being wonderfully imperfect.

    Credit: ladiepassiton

  • Justice For Lily-My Last Photo Of My Angel

    This is the last picture I will ever have of my baby girl. 5 years ago right now she was eating lucky charms with my dad when I told her we had to get dressed. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said “why mommy?” And all I could do was say “I’m sorry baby.” I held her hand as she cried on the way to meet her “father”. She asked if we could go to splash village and I told her we would when there was snow on the ground. She asked if Barney could come to her birthday and I told her that he would. And the last promise I made her was that one day she wouldn’t have to go to their house.

    We got to the meeting spot and she was crying saying mommy please don’t make me go. I just kept telling her I’m sorry baby and I love you and I will see you tomorrow. He took her and she continued to cry. He let her give me one last kiss and he walked away as she screamed and reached trying to get back to me. You never forget that sound. I went home to get things ready for her to come back. I was going to clean our room and meet my cousin Erica to give her some of Lily’s old toys. And I was going to go Christmas shopping.

    I was at Walmart when my mom and dad texted they arrived at our cabin 3 hours away. They sent me a picture of a 3 foot princess stocking and told me to start shopping for stocking stuffers. I was in the stocking stuffer isle at Walmart at 3:01 pm when I looked at my phone and saw her “father” calling.

    I picked it up and he said to get to the macomb general hospital right now. That there was an accident and Renee fell on Lily in the shower. I asked if she was ok and he said he didn’t know and to just get there right away. I left my cart and sped walked to the car thinking that’s it! She’s not going back. Thinking it was a broken arm or leg. I called my mom and she said to meet my uncle at my house and he would drive me. They were on their way.

    So I pulled in my driveway jumped in the passenger seat as him and my cousin jumped in and we left. He drove as fast as he could trying to get their but it was rush hour traffic. Her “father” kept calling and saying where are you? I told him I was trying to get there as fast as I could but the hospital was an hour an a half away without traffic. I asked if she was ok and he hung up on me.

    This continued a few more times before I called the hospital. I asked the nurse if she was ok and she said the words I will never forget, “I wouldn’t be telling you this over the phone but you need to get here. It’s bad. She’s been back there with the doctors for an hour and she has no pulse.” I don’t remember the rest of the ride. I remember asking my 14-year-old cousin to call everyone and ask them to pray. I should have never put that responsibility on her.

    When we arrived at the Er they made my uncle move the car. Her “father” was standing outside smoking as I opened the door. My knees gave out and I couldn’t stand. I asked him if she was ok and he said no. I asked him if she was alive and he said no. My world came crashing down at that moment. When the detective came in later she asked what type of underwear was Lily wearing and asked if I helped wipe her that morning when she used the potty. I told her I did and she asked if there was blood. I told her no.

    My mom said why are you asking these questions. The detective said because Lily was severely sexually abused preceding her death. We went home that night and sat in the car. How do you go back into a house that the one person who made it a home is never coming back? How do you go on when all your hopes and dreams are taken away? It was just supposed to be 33 hours, not a lifetime. To this day I hate when my parents go anywhere far away because I’m scared something is going to happen.

    To this day I can’t go in that isle of Walmart. To this day I can’t wake up on November 20th and not replay every horrific moment. I miss you Lily to infinity and beyond always and forever and I will never stop fighting for you. So if you are still reading at this point please share Lily’s story today. Please make a choice to be her voice because there is no excuse for child abuse. And please hug your children a little tighter and longer as none of us are promised tomorrow. Thank you all for your support! God bless you! #justiceforlily #lilysvoice #30daysoflily

    Update 11/26/18- It’s been 3 years since I wrote this and this post still rings true. In the hardest days each year I am thankful to each one of you that have shared her story. To know that her supporters have grown and praying that at least one child is saved in her memory. I miss her every second of everyday but coming on here and seeing her story being shared 8 years later has me in tears. God bless each and every one of you! ❤️

    Update 11/27- I have received a ton of messages asking if she got justice. Renee was found guilty of criminal sexual conduct, first degree child abuse and first degree murder. She is spending life in prison without parole. I truly wish I could individually thank each and every one of you who have shared but the shares are coming in at like 3000 an hour. So please know my entire family is so thankful for each of you being Lily’s voice. If you would like to join our fight please go to https://www.facebook.com/JusticeForLily/❤️

  • Things Which Confirm You’re British

    Things which confirm you’re British.

    • Worrying you’ve accidentally packed 3 kilos of cocaine and a dead goat as you stroll through “Nothing to declare”

    • Being unable to stand and leave without first saying “right”

    • Not hearing someone for the third time, so just laughing and hoping for the best

    • Saying “anywhere here’s fine” when the taxi’s directly outside your front door

    • Being sure to start touching your bag 15 minutes before your station, so the person in the aisle seat is fully prepared for your exit

    • Repeatedly pressing the door button on the train before it’s illuminated, to assure your fellow commuters you have the situation in hand

    • Having someone sit next to you on the train, meaning you’ll have to eat your crisps at home

    • The huge sense of relief after your perfectly valid train ticket is accepted by the inspector

    • The horror of someone you only half know saying: “Oh I’m getting that train too”

    • “Sorry, is anyone sitting here?” – Translation: Unless this is a person who looks remarkably like a bag, I suggest you move it

    • Loudly tapping your fingers at the cashpoint, to assure the queue that you’ve asked for money and the wait is out of your hands

    • Looking away so violently as someone nearby enters their PIN that you accidentally dislocate your neck

    • Waiting for permission to leave after paying for something with the exact change

    • Saying hello to a friend in the supermarket, then creeping around like a burglar to avoid seeing them again

    • Watching with quiet sorrow as you receive a different haircut to the one you requested

    • Being unable to pay for something with the exact change without saying “I think that’s right”

    • Overtaking someone on foot and having to keep up the uncomfortably fast pace until safely over the horizon

    • Being unable to turn and walk in the opposite direction without first taking out your phone and frowning at it

    • Deeming it necessary to do a little jog over zebra crossings, while throwing in an apologetic mini wave

    • Punishing people who don’t say thank you by saying “you’re welcome” as quietly as possible

    • The overwhelming sorrow of finding a cup of tea you forgot about

    • Turning down a cup of tea for no reason and instantly knowing you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake

    • Suddenly remembering your tea and necking it like a massive, lukewarm shot

    • Realising you’ve got about fifty grand’s worth of plastic bags under your kitchen sink

    • “You’ll have to excuse the mess” – Translation: I’ve spent seven hours tidying in preparation for your visit

    • Indicating that you want the last roast potato by trying to force everyone else to take it

    • “I’m off to bed” – Translation: “I’m off to stare at my phone in another part of the house”

    • Mishearing somebody’s name on the second time of asking, meaning you must now avoid them forever

    • Leaving it too late to correct someone, meaning you must live with your new name forever

    • Running out of ways to say thanks when a succession of doors are held for you, having already deployed ‘cheers’, ‘ta’ and ‘nice one’

    • Changing from ‘kind regards’ to just ‘regards’, to indicate that you’re rapidly reaching the end of your tether

    • Staring at your phone in silent horror until the unknown number stops ringing

    • Hearing a recording of your own voice and deciding it’s perhaps best never to speak again

    • The relief when someone doesn’t answer their phone within three rings and you can hang up

    • Filming an entire fireworks display on your phone, knowing full well you’ll never, ever watch it again”