The Support Worker Paradox

A kitchen bench with huge plastic containers filled with fried rice and chicken soup cooked by a support worker, in front of a bunch of spring onions.

Letting support workers into your life as a Disabled/Ill person is challenging. Not only are you asking them to do tasks you would usually do for yourself, you are inviting complete strangers to your home to view you at your most vulnerable.

What if you don’t get along? How do I employ someone? What if they’re set in their ways, and don’t want to adapt to my circumstances? What if their profile on HireUp talks about how they think children with disabilities are a blessing from God who inspire them to get out of bed every day?

That’s not even mentioning that with ME/CFS, being around people and stimulation in general is my kryptonite?*

Since mum’s circumstances have changed so dramatically due to a new diagnosis, we now have 4 support workers (or PAs) come to us a week, plus garden/yard maintenance. We are lucky to have gathered such an understanding team around us, but it took so much time and energy to accomplish. I’m still not quite comfortable with having new people in my space, and this new life.

*Hence the title of this post: am I so sick that I can’t do things for myself, but can’t stand having people around doing them for me either?

(Moral) Panic! At the Disco: Disabled People Have Sex Too

A full pink rose.

My hero for today is the woman with MS who, in pre-pandemic times, fought NDIA (National Disability Insurance Agency) in court for her right to have a sex therapist funded. Bloody legend. Disabled people have as much of a right to consensual sexual expression as everyone else, and if sex toys and Tinder are physically out of the question (yes, this was assessed in the case) then hiring a sex therapist who specialises in clients with disabilities seems a logical choice.

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2020, a summary

I don’t want to be like every think piece from the past 8 months that begins with “in these unprecedented times”, so I’ll just update you briefly on what 2020 has brought for me. I started with health crises in the family and a whopping concussion, then a massive relapse which led to me needing my powerchair in my own home, a first for me.

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But are you disabled enough?

Hi friends,

Just a quick post to say that after a brief 9 months on the NDIS (National Disability Insurance Scheme), my eligibility is being reviewed. What does that mean? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’d say, “you don’t deserve these services, you fraud, and we’re going to take them away unless you ‘prove’ your disability all over again.”

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Vale Ann-Marie Smith

CW: neglect, death, possible manslaughter of a disabled person

A white woman with abundant curly blonde hair and a smile on her face.
Ann-Marie Smith. Source.

Ann-Marie Smith was a 54-year-old woman with Cerebral Palsy. She lived alone in Adelaide, South Australia. And on 6 April 2020, Ann-Marie died from severe septic shock, multi-organ failure, severe pressure sores and malnutrition.

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Don’t let the bastards get you down

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself when I’m dealing with government agencies. “It’s their job to put you off.” “They make it so difficult you’ll give up – don’t let them.” “The systems are designed to exclude you, you have to fight for your rights.” But sometimes, it’s just all too hard.

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