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2018 has not been kind to me. My Mum went into hospital in January with severe jaundice and then was transferred to Manchester Royal Infirmary. She came out for a week for her birthday in March. At the start of March I was told my shop was being closed at the end of the month and I was being made redundant. I had only worked for the company for 12 months so wasn't entitled to any redundancy pay. Mum went back into hospital in Manchester. The person who opened the new haberdashery and yarn shop in the indoor market employed me at the end of April and I spent a week there (all 7 days) to get it set up and started. (He also made promises of proper lunch breaks and breaks throughout the working day, as well as knowing that Mum was seriously ill in hospital and that I'd be able to take phone calls as and when I needed to, he used my business plan and my accounts paperwork). On the following Wednesday, I drove up to Manchester Hospital, I was feeling guilty that I hadn't seen Mum the week before, but she was really unwell. Much worse than before. She had developed bed sores and this was painful but it turned into sepsis. I stayed at the hospital that night, in the chair next to Mum's bed. I was persuaded to go home but I didn't go until my uncle had arrived at 2pm. I had a quick shower and returned, with a bag of night clothes. Mum was worse. I stayed at the Travelodge across the road from the hospital. At 2pm on the Friday, after my uncle (Mum's brother) and her partner arrived, I was persuaded to go home. Mum was due into the operating theatre again to put in a new drain into her liver to try to get the jaundice to reduce, but she became upset and told the doctors to stop as it hurt her too much. They had to follow Mum's wishes. I received a phone call as I got out of the shower telling me that Mum had refused the operation, and unfortunately screamed at my son. It was his birthday the day before and I was in Manchester with mum. I raced back to the hospital at rush hour, this time with my son. Mum perked up a bit when she knew my son was there, but she was barely conscious. I tried to make her drink her juice and keep her hydrated but it wasn't working and they had to put a catheter in to see if her kidneys were working. They weren't. She was not drinking enough and her kidneys started to fail. I went home that night after being persuaded by the nursing staff that I needed a good nights rest. I was assured that they would look after her. The following day, we were all back at the hospital, and Mum was being moved into a side room. We spoke to the consultant, who told us that after the 5th lot of tests, they confirmed Mum had cancer of the bile duct and that she was not going to last the day. I ran out of the room and to Mum's bedside. My uncle called my sister (I wasn't happy about my sister being there because she had refused to come and visit Mum in the 4 months she was in hospital), and my nephew and they brought my son and we spent the day holding mum's hands, telling her we loved her and watched her pass away. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. My son, myself, my uncle and mum's partner were all devastated. My son ran into the corridor and refused to talk for 2 hours. It was 2 days after his birthday. I'm crying as I write this. It still hurts so much. The nurses were very kind to us all but they were looking to me to make decisions as I was the person they knew. My sister wasn't happy about that. I rang my friend and he drove to the hospital just to give me and my son a hug. He made us stop on the way home to eat at Burger King. He knew that if we didn't eat something, we probably wouldn't do for days. My sister had kicked off and shown her true colours again. She thought that she should be in charge of everything and I didn't because she hadn't been there for Mum until it was too late. She'd made promises that I didn't have to do everything alone any more but quickly changed her tune when she realised I didn't have enough money to pay for everything, although she demanded that I did. It was me and my uncle who went back to the hospital to register Mum's death because my sister didn't feel she could do it. I paid for the flowers for the funeral and the catering for the wake. I organised with Mum's bank to pay for the funeral. My sister did not pay a penny to it all. Even though I was the one paying for everything, it was my sister who decided everything and I just went along with it to try to keep the peace, but then she saw the list of people I was inviting to Mum's funeral and complained that I was only inviting my friends. These were people who were Mum's friends as well and they wanted to pay their respects. On the day of the funeral, two people that had never met Mum were there to support my sister, while I was feeling bad for inviting our mutual friends.
I took two weeks off from work but had to go back the week of the funeral. I only had the day off for the funeral and was back the day after, I wasn't ready to go back, I was still crying at the drop of a hat. I was worrying about my son. I was pushed into going back by my boss even though I didn't feel ready and we hadn't even had the funeral yet. A couple of times, my son came to meet me from work and my Mum's partner came in and had a quick chat with me. My boss complained that they shouldn't come in while I was at work. Then he complained that I was talking on my phone. I was not talking on my phone while there were customers. I was not allowed to take phone calls and as you can imagine, there were some. I was made to put my phone in the cupboard but then my boss would ring it repeatedly on his day off, then when he couldn't get hold of me, come in and complain I wasn't answering the phone. I was confused. Was I meant to leave it in the cupboard and not answer it or keep it on me and answer it if it rang? I tried to make all the calls on my day off but sometimes I couldn't speak to the right person and they would ring me back the next day. It made organising things even harder. I was still having to sort out Mum's possessions and her house. The landlords needed to be informed and meetings made for my day off. One Saturday, my boss came in and swapped some notes from the till for change so I could make the float. I was serving customers so wasn't watching what he was doing closely. He poured some £2 coins into the working part of the till. At the end of the day, the float was made up and the till balanced with the till reading. This was all noted into the daily accounts sheet. On the following Monday morning, (my day off), I received a text message from my boss asking where the £2 coins were. I told him that they had been given out as change. He got annoyed with me at that point and told me that he had said not to use them as change for customers on the Saturday (he hadn't). He asked where the extra £10 was, saying that he hadn't taken a £10 note out instead of the £2 coins. He was accusing me of stealing it but I thought he had taken a £10 note out of the till to swap it. I hadn't stolen the money and this was the first I knew of him leaving an extra tenner in the till. He didn't accept my attempts to say where the £2 coins were. I had no reason to steal any money. I had not stolen any money from my previous employer there and I have no intention of stealing any money from anyone. I can and do budget well. I've never had a credit card or loan and don't even have an overdraft facility on my bank account as if I don't have the money then I can't spend it. If I want something, I save up for it. I don't steal to enable me to do it. I work for it. I was given a written warning for not stealing the missing £10, which I thought was unfair but I had stated what had happened and the boss didn't like it. He has no proof that I stole anything and I stand by my statement that he swapped the £2 coins for a £10 note and forgot that he did so. I continued to work there (now if he really thought I'd stolen it, he would have been right to sack me on the spot but he didn't), although he complained if I took a fifteen minute break to eat my lunch after teaching someone to crochet for the morning. I only did that twice and and then gave up taking a proper break. He complained that I needed him to come over to that unit if I needed to go to the toilet. A couple of times, my Mum's partner came in and had a quick chat with me. He waited until there were no customers before coming over. My son met me a couple of times after work to go do the weekly food shopping. My boss complained that I shouldn't be talking to my friends while I was at work. It was a shop. I couldn't stop them coming in. My son would only turn up at 4pm when I finished for the day and closed up. One day, another friend came in and we spoke for 2 minutes, making arrangements to meet up after work. My boss complained again, that I was talking to my friends and not working. The person I was teaching to crochet was happily crocheting and didn't need constant supervision so I didn't think this was a problem. How wrong I was. It was another couple of weeks and I was fired on the Thursday. I had been getting increasingly unhappy there, afraid to chat to customers, had told my son to only meet me outside the market, told my Mum's partner that he couldn't come into the market to see me. A few weeks later, I was fired. He said he didn't want to do it but his solicitor was making him do it. He still expected me to go into the craft stall and teach people to crochet and design a Crochet-A-Long for him as a volunteer. I refused to do this. I was not going to spend several hours designing a crochet along, testing the pattern and then having him make all the profit from it, while I'm sitting there as a volunteer. That shop wouldn't be there without the business plan I wrote for a new haberdashery and yarn shop. The daily accounts paperwork wouldn't exist without me working for 30 hours at home designing them for clarity. I was not paid for that either.
I've been ill myself. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, and working full time was taking it toll. I now have to see a neurologist as I am having other symptoms that can't be put down to fibro. I have poor circulation, caused by the nerve pains which means my feet and hands go very cold, even with 2 pairs of fleecy socks and furry slippers on. I also have depression and this year has made it difficult to manage it but I haven't upped my dosages. I have to grieve, no matter how long it takes. I miss my Mum every day. I try not to let my illnesses affect any work I do. I manage the nerve pain effectively and I am on medication for both illnesses although sometimes it can leave me too exhausted to get up. I get up and dressed every day even if that's all I do.
I was forced to apply for Universal Credit. This took 6 weeks for the first payment and I got £584 a month. This was to cover my £100 a week rent and all my bills as well as buy food. I don't know where the extra money I need for the mobile phone and internet (which I need to look for a job on Universal Credit, their rules) is going to come from. I've had to give up my 10 pin bowling team as I just don't have the money to go to it. This was my one evening out a week. Christmas is cancelled as I can't afford the dinner let alone gifts, and we'll stay in bed as it's warmer when I can't afford the heating for the day. The first month, it didn't work and we ran out of money before the month was out. I had to use emergency electricity. I've been really strict this month and I think I've not had to do that but I have another week before the next payment. I'm not sure if I'll make it without running out of electricity. We still haven't put the central heating on and it's freezing in the house. We are struggling. Emotionally and financially. I can and do make items to sell. I have an abundance of yarn (it's taking over my house). I've made crochet baby blankets, bootees and hats, crochet teapot cosies and toys, knitted scarves and I am taking orders. I am not asking for charity, or sympathy, at my dire financial status on Universal Credit, just that you think of me and will come to any craft fairs I do, or buy online the things I make, or commission me to make something for you. I will literally do a happy dance, and be able to put the heating on for a couple of hours. I'm sorry for the long post, but I wanted to put my story of this year out there, to explain why I haven't organised my sewing course and why I'm asking you to buy handmade items from crafters this Christmas. It will literally mean I can put the heating on.