These homes house people with disabilities who are unable to cope in the outside world and whose only method of coping is violence. In February, we put our daughter into the hands of caregivers who looked after a group of violent people. It was the most fearful thing to do. Looking back over this year, I can only look with pride at the way she has coped. I would not have been able to live with people like that - who thumped the walls, yelled, threw tables, and were randomly violent. She managed. I know she also responded with violence, and a lot of the yelling kind. But it's what they do - people with disabilities are unable to function in a world which is, to them, scary, unreliable, and punative. Six months into this sentence, she was transferred to a less restricted home, but still with unpredictable clients, this time, all male. Although the setting is tranquil, the house is not necessarily so. There are still rules, but it is more relaxed. Not necessarily a good thing, but it's the way things are done. There are rules for visiting: don't come in unannounced; don't wear a skirt; do not bring children onto the site; and so on.
I have taken her out every two weeks and often brought her home over a weekend. During this time, I worked with the government powers that be to get another home established which would care for at least 3 people with PWS. After many meetings with health officials and disability residential providers, this is now ready to go. It's going to be a challenge, no doubt, but this is one that has to be met.
The biggest low to date, with her, has been when she was bashed and punched around the head several times by one of the other residents who decided she'd been into his room and taken some chocolate. The staff took her to A & E and fortunately there was no concussion or internal bleeding. She still managed to lay a charge of abuse with the police. The irony has not escaped me. And I am pretty certain she did take the chocolate, although she would never, ever admit to that. I have had her home for several days while she recuperates. Her time in the more relaxed home has had the outcome of her now putting on all the weight she lost during the first half of the year, resulting in high blood sugar levels and diabetes Type II.
The next challenge that has been ongoing for most of the year is a personal one which has required much soul-searching and character balancing. When you think that you are doing a good job, and you are getting good responses and feedback, yet are criticised by some board members whose knowledge is less than your own, but whose youth desires to rush forward with new brooms and the hell with what you stand for, it tricks your mind into thinking you are useless. I know. It's the old INFP rising to the bait again. But it is also a reminder of my generation's submissiveness - as far as the women were concerned - when we were just breaking out under the banner of Women's Lib. Although our own mothers were subjected to being part of the Behind the Kitchen Sink brigade, and held mixed views of our desire to 'burn the bra', possibly wishing they could do the same, we were still the tail end of that cultural cringe, and it still comes back to haunt me. There are still a lot of 'shoulds' in my life. Crushing stuff.
So, when the chairman - also a product of his generation and spawned into the male dominated culture - decided to curtail my work and bring forward my retirement by a year, there was a fair fight to be had. It is very wearying and somewhat bruising for an INFP, but at the same time, step on my toes... and be prepared for the unexpected.
Happily, there is much that remains the same, and focussing on what is real is the best cure for the soul.
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