I have worked at a senior centre-cum-boules court in a park in the past, with most people there being the sort you could actually have decent conversations with.

But, of course, not everything was idyllic: there was one man, claiming to have been a hunter of sorts, who was rather rude to staff and a few regular visitors alike, whose antics ultimately pushed me to quit.

The most egregious thing he did? One day, in the same park, a children’s birthday party was going on: the party was not particularly close to the centre, and while loud, it could be heard only if you stayed outside the building itself anyway.

This old guy went for a smoke on the outside, finished his cigarette, then came back in and had the audacity to tell me I “had” to go to the party and tell them to stop because “they were disturbing the elderly here”, even if, again, nothing of the said party could be heard from the outside.

Being diplomatic didn’t work, showing him that nobody else in the place was bothered didn’t work, telling him to deal with it didn’t work, and suggesting to just leave for the day didn’t work: HE was bothered by the children’s party on the other side of the park, and by God was he going to get it shut down somehow, complaining about it for a long time. And even when the party eventually ended, he wasn’t entirely happy because it “took them too long”.

No wonder he was never directly invited to any events we organized.

I worked the night shift as a senior carer. One morning, I had a spasm through my neck and shoulder and couldn’t move my head at all. I needed help to stand due to pain. I hoped it would ease through the day, but by 3:00 pm, I still couldn’t move.

I contacted the off-duty seniors to see if I could cover the shift and got a possible yes. I called work at 4:00 pm — my shift was to start at 8:00 pm — and spoke to my superior.

Supervisor: “Can’t you just come in?”

Me: “I can’t physically f****** move without help. [Husband] is having to help me go for a f****** piss. How the f*** do you expect me to assist anyone with anything? I’ve tried to sort cover for you. Next time, I won’t f****** bother.

And then, I hung up. I expected to get written up but surprisingly didn’t.

I was due to start an afternoon/evening shift as a care worker, but I had to take my phone to be fixed that morning. It was raining heavily that day, and I slipped in the street and whacked my ankle hard on the way down. I called work.

Me: “Hey, I just took a hard fall, so I’m going to go get my ankle seen by a doctor.”

Boss: “No, you need to come in for your shift!”

I went to get it checked out anyway, and it turned out that it wasn’t broken, just badly sprained. I was sent home and told to put my leg up and try to stay off it for a day or two. I’d just gotten back home, and work called.

Boss: “How late are you going to be?”

Me: “I physically cannot do the shift. My ankle is sprained and I have to stay off it for a couple of days.”

I got written up for not telling them in my weekly availability that I intended to slip and sprain my ankle!

I work in assisted living as a carer. Our setup involves a collection of bungalows that are rented out to people who can’t live independently and an office that we are based in at one end of the lot.

One of our service users is a severely disabled man who is non-verbal and doesn’t have the capacity to manage his own bills, so his sister and social worker make decisions for him. I am allocated to him one morning when I hear a strange beeping.

I start looking but it stops, and I give up only for it to start up again a little later. Eventually, I realise that it is coming from a strange phone I hadn’t noticed before by the door. I pick it up and someone answers.

Caller: “Hi. I wanted to pay a bill, but your office is closed.”

Me: *Slightly confused* “Oh, I don’t handle bills. Is this for Mr. [Service User]—”

Caller: *Cutting me off* “Yes, but this was the number to call!”

Me: “Well, this is a private phone, so you would need to call the office directly.”

Caller: “But the number to call was this one!”

Me: “I’m not sure why that is but I can’t process bills.”

Caller: “Then transfer me.”

Me: “I can’t; this is a private number.”

I see a manager walk past toward the office.

Me: “Hold on, I’ll ask a manager. Is this about Mr. [Service User] or someone else?”

Caller: *Silence*

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Are you transferring me or what?!”

I decide I’m not dealing with them anymore and go outside to call the manager over. The manager is as confused as I am but picks up the phone.

Manager: “Hello, I’m the service manager. What is it you are trying to pay?” *Pauses* “And is this in relation to Mr. [Service User] or one of our other service users?” *Pauses* “I’m sorry, but you’ve called a private number—”

The caller’s voice audibly rises.

Manager: “This is a care facility. I don’t know why this number is on your bill, but we can’t help you.” *Pauses* “I just told you this isn’t the right number. I’m hanging up now; please don’t call again.”

The manager hangs up and passes the phone back, shaking her head.

Me: “I asked her if it was about Mr. [Service User] and she said yes.”

Manager: *Shaking her head in exasperation* “I’m sure you did. I don’t know how she even managed to call that phone; that should be impossible!

Turns out the phone was installed a decade ago so that if someone rang the doorbell you could answer it and speak to them. That’s why I never noticed it before and why it beeped instead of a normal ring. We never did figure out how she called it.

I work for a multi-national care company. I say care, but they do everything — adult care, child care, schools, hospitals, rehab, celebrity rehab, etc. — and it’s worldwide.

I work in the UK. Our area is in adult care. These are adults with learning disabilities which range from severe, needing twenty-four-hour support including personal care — washing, dressing, shaving, toilet, etc. — to those who only need minimal support like checking on their progress through the day.

I am working on a site with tenants who have their own bedrooms and share all the other areas of the house, including the toilet/shower room. The staff has to use the same toilet facility as the tenants; there’s no separate area.

One fine day, a message goes out to all the staff by text and email from our management team. Now, remember, this is a multi-billion-a-year company and a major provider of various types of health care, education, and child services. We even have sites in Dubai! This message went out, effective immediately, that the company was now making cost-cutting decisions and would no longer supply toilet roll for staff use.

Toilet roll! I mean, toilet roll? Come on! We were told to bring our own or ask the tenants to use theirs.

Now, in the UK, as staff, you cannot ever use a tenant’s property for your own use. This includes food, drinks, or other items, including toilet roll. It’s classed as theft and also can be covered under various types of abuse, unless there is a proviso in place, which is fully covered in writing, in detail. There were no provisions like this in place at any of our sites.

I was just dumbfounded at this directive, and I was annoyed. It’s a simple thing, but when you have no toilet paper, it’s no longer a simple thing!

For the first week, I took my own paper.

The following week, I forgot. Oh! Oh! Now I had a problem.

We had two tenants at this site, and one of them didn’t like me very much as I’m not the type of worker to just sit on my butt like so many others do in care. I do my best to support my clients in every way I can. This one didn’t like having boundaries and tried to get me moved out by making false allegations! Thank God for other staff as witnesses. I was not going to ask him for toilet roll; he would enjoy saying no.

I couldn’t ask the other one as he had limited understanding, and trust me when I say that you shouldn’t touch anything in his room without gloves on. Anything! So I was not going to use his toilet roll, either.

For the whole day, I clenched like you wouldn’t believe until I got home. I was angry. To be honest, all the staff was angry at this no-bog-roll mandate.

I decided to check out this management decision on toilet roll and see if it was legal. First off, I call ACAS (Advisory, Conciliation, and Arbitration Service). They were wonderful people, always handy with advice, and of course, once I explained the situation, we both had a laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They weren’t sure but advised me to check out the HSE (Health and Safety Executive) website to see if there was anything there. This HSE laid out all the legal requirements of employers and employees in the UK.

Eureka! I found what I needed. The HSE listed it as follows under workplace facilities that employers are required to supply:

“Employers have to provide:

• Enough toilets and washbasins for those expected to use them — separate facilities for men and women — failing that, rooms with lockable doors.
• Clean facilities — preferably with walls and floors tiled (or covered in suitable waterproof material) to make them easier to clean.
• A supply of toilet paper.
• For female employees, somewhere to dispose of sanitary dressings.
• Facilities that are well lit and ventilated.
• Hot and cold running water.
• Enough soap or other washing agents.
• A basin large enough to wash hands and forearms if necessary.
• A way of drying hands, such as paper towels or a hot air dryer.
• Showers where necessary, for particularly dirty work.”

I emailed the managers — all of them, from the operations director all the way down — explained the situation, and quoted the HSE, pointing out that it was a legal requirement to supply toilet paper. I was very professional.

Within two hours of my email, management sent out a staff-wide text and email stating that they would be supplying toilet roll for all staff at all sites.

You cannot imagine how relieved I was — no pun intended — and how big my smile was.