My blood ran cold when I heard about the vulnerable patients’ deaths at Cawston
Park.
The Challenging Behaviour Foundation emailed me and other member families of adults
with learning disabilities before the story hit the news, warning us that we could find
the details very distressing. I did and they were ..... but I believe the failures
that lay behind these deaths are the tip of the iceberg.
You see, sadly, these failures are familiar to me.
My daughter, Chrissy, who's now 37, spent 4 years in another private
hospital like Winterbourne View and Cawston Park after being repeatedly let down
by inadequate support provision in the community. During her hospital stay, I
reported unexplained bruising on her neck; a safeguarding investigation was
launched, bringing the hospital under scrutiny. However, Chrissy’s injuries were
subsequently attributed to self-injurious behaviour. I had never seen bruising
on her neck before and it was difficult to understand she could have caused
these injuries herself. A year later, the hospital came under fire in the press
for failing all the standards set by the Care Quality Commission, including the
one to prevent abuse.
The 2011 Winterbourne scandal had shone a spotlight on some of the practices that
go on behind the locked doors of these hospitals but still, it seems that little
has changed. What will it take?
These units are run as total institutions, similar to the long-stay hospitals that
were closed during the 1980s, which was meant to herald a new era of social inclusion
for people labelled as learning disabled. The resulting gap in the market provided a
lucrative business opportunity and a number of independent hospitals financed by
private equity companies were set up. A report commissioned by NHS England in
2014 called for an end for the system where these independent hospitals are
financially incentivised to keep patients in for as long as possible. However,
despite levying charges of up to £26,000 a month per patient, basic standards of
good practice are proving remarkably difficult to maintain in many of these
services.
Nevertheless, the hospital was Chrissy’s best chance. Despite its
problems, another group of professionals at the hospital were now challenging
the disempowering funding agendas and professional vested interests that were
preventing Chrissy from getting the support she needed. This knowledge informed
a discharge plan that provided indisputable evidence of Chrissy’s complex
support needs, unclouded by funding agendas. The interventions and support
Chrissy needed should have been available in her local community but they were
not.
Moreover, in our experience, the poor standards in these hospitals are also
reflected in care in the community. When Chrissy was ready to be discharged from
hospital, Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation included her story in
their Out of Sight report (Mencap, 2012). They said the Government is very clear
that people with a learning disability should be supported to live in their own
communities; it is difficult to understand why, when Chrissy was ready for
discharge, there were so many barriers in place and we had to do so much
fighting to overcome them.
Chrissy finally moved into her own home with 24-hour 2:1 domiciliary care support
in 2013. It went well at first as she always had a key worker/team lead in place
but, a year later, it was bought out by a big private investment company and the
quality of care gradually nose-dived. Chrissy’s service was being managed remotely
by managers who oversaw several services and a succession of them left. I was told
by one manager who left that she felt burnt out and unsupported. She said that she
couldn’t do her job effectively because she was always filling other management gaps
and fire-fighting elsewhere. Staff training was minimal, communication between the
office and staff working at Chrissy’s home was dire to non-existent, and morale
amongst Chrissy’s support staff was very low. I reported problems to the CQC,
who gave the service an overall ‘good’ standard of care. Having once worked as
an ‘expert by experience’ with the CQC, I knew what good care looked like and
reported that my main concerns lay in two inspection areas covered – the service
was neither responsive nor well-led. The inspector did not call me and there was
no follow-up. I became exhausted and demoralised by trying to fill in the
managerial gaps myself but was told by various health professionals and some
staff who worked elsewhere as well as with Chrissy that ‘this was as good as it
gets.’ Whistle-blowers raised concerns but did not feel that management had
listened or taken action.
However, there was no way I could give up on Chrissy by accepting these awful standards
of care and support and, thankfully, neither could the case-managing NHS commissioner.
Effects on Chrissy included a long-term refusal to engage in personal care and just
wanting to stay in bed. The NHS commissioner circulated Chrissy’s profile to care agencies
and a local not-for-profit group of charitable enterprise got in touch. One of their
managers knew Chrissy of old and had worked exceptionally well with her. This
organisation now provides her care services. They have far exceeded our
expectations by starting to turn things around in a few months. Chrissy’s first
bath and hair wash in months was a cause for great celebration! She will always
present significant challenges to services but I feel like this new service has
given us our daughter back.
Parenting Chrissy
Thank you for visiting my blog. These are stories of the unique issues faced by people with learning disabilities and their families, inspired by my experiences of parenting Chrissy, who was diagnosed with the rare chromosome disorder, 1q21.1 microdeletion, in her twenties. If you're wondering if counselling could help you with the challenges that you face in parenting someone with additional needs, contact me: info@janealcockcounselling.co.uk
Monday 13 September 2021
Saturday 29 August 2020
Update
Hi, welcome to my blog.
I started this blog when I was a freelance journalist (It was called 'Sharing Stories' and I wrote as 'Jane Gregory'), and many of my posts relate to my work raising awareness of parenting someone with complex additional needs.
I then changed direction to train as a counsellor and my interest in working with the unique issues faced by parent-carers and family members of children/adults with additional needs continues. I also work part-time for The Challenging Behaviour Foundation co-delivering Positive Behaviour Support workshops and supporting parent-carers online during the pandemic.
I then changed direction to train as a counsellor and my interest in working with the unique issues faced by parent-carers and family members of children/adults with additional needs continues. I also work part-time for The Challenging Behaviour Foundation co-delivering Positive Behaviour Support workshops and supporting parent-carers online during the pandemic.
Most important update is that Chrissy's doing fine, still living in her own home in her own community with support, and is far more stable in health and mood.
Visit my website www.janealcockcounselling.co.uk if you are interested in finding out more about how counselling could help you with the challenges of parenting/being a family member of someone with additional needs, or with any other issues that you're struggling with, or email me:
info@janealcockcounselling.co.uk
Sunday 18 June 2017
3 Years On
Thought it was time for an update.....
Chrissy has now been living in her own home for over 3 years. Her life is as about good as it can get with all the complex challenges she presents with. Her family are thankful for the citizenship-promoting policies that eventually enabled her to live on her own. I never thought it would happen and, at times, doubted it would work - I wondered if Chrissy was too complex, too challenging, to live in her local community. She still has ups and downs, and we've recently put a higher fence in her garden to minimise any disturbances to her neighbours. Luckily, they understand the difficulties Chrissy has, and are patient and sympathetic.
We make the most of Chrissy's good days and get on with her lives when she is too unwell to visit us.
I am at peace, no longer fearful of another traumatic 'placement breakdown' or what will happen to Chrissy when her stepdad and I die. There's great freedom in that.
Chrissy has now been living in her own home for over 3 years. Her life is as about good as it can get with all the complex challenges she presents with. Her family are thankful for the citizenship-promoting policies that eventually enabled her to live on her own. I never thought it would happen and, at times, doubted it would work - I wondered if Chrissy was too complex, too challenging, to live in her local community. She still has ups and downs, and we've recently put a higher fence in her garden to minimise any disturbances to her neighbours. Luckily, they understand the difficulties Chrissy has, and are patient and sympathetic.
We make the most of Chrissy's good days and get on with her lives when she is too unwell to visit us.
I am at peace, no longer fearful of another traumatic 'placement breakdown' or what will happen to Chrissy when her stepdad and I die. There's great freedom in that.
Tuesday 26 July 2016
My Research Study: Autoethnography of Parenting a Daughter whose Complex Disability was Diagnosed in her Adulthood
I completed an MSc, The Applied Psychology of Intellectual Disabilities, at Portsmouth University last year. My dissertation is an autoethnography on my experiences of parenting Chrissy. It received a Distinction and has now been published by the Centre for Welfare Reform http://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/uploads/attachment/532/parenting-chrissy.pdf
Here is the abstract:
ABSTRACT:
This autoethnography explores my journey as a mother of a woman with intellectual disabilities whose complex needs and behaviour has presented significant challenges to services. My biographical accounts include the experiences of receiving my daughter’s diagnoses of a rare chromosome disorder and autism in her adulthood. The former allowed a unique story which emerged from phenomena that is being swept in by the tide of the technological revolution in the detection of gene mutations and structural genomic variations causing learning disability. Within the theoretical frameworks of critical disability studies, social constructionism and family systems approaches, I weave 31 years of autobiographical accounts with cultural and structural factors that influence the experiences of parents of children with learning disabilities. Included in the investigations were the uncovering of new knowledge about the culture of intellectual disability and an examination of the events leading up to my daughter’s four-year incarceration in an institution. Evidence of oppressive, dehumanising social policies and practices intersect with new themes, including the journey from asking ‘why?’ to knowing, and chasing new ‘fixes’ to the liberating possibilities of policy changes and transformative validation.
Here is the abstract:
ABSTRACT:
This autoethnography explores my journey as a mother of a woman with intellectual disabilities whose complex needs and behaviour has presented significant challenges to services. My biographical accounts include the experiences of receiving my daughter’s diagnoses of a rare chromosome disorder and autism in her adulthood. The former allowed a unique story which emerged from phenomena that is being swept in by the tide of the technological revolution in the detection of gene mutations and structural genomic variations causing learning disability. Within the theoretical frameworks of critical disability studies, social constructionism and family systems approaches, I weave 31 years of autobiographical accounts with cultural and structural factors that influence the experiences of parents of children with learning disabilities. Included in the investigations were the uncovering of new knowledge about the culture of intellectual disability and an examination of the events leading up to my daughter’s four-year incarceration in an institution. Evidence of oppressive, dehumanising social policies and practices intersect with new themes, including the journey from asking ‘why?’ to knowing, and chasing new ‘fixes’ to the liberating possibilities of policy changes and transformative validation.
Wednesday 9 March 2016
Moving Chrissy into Suitable Housing: How we Overcame the Barriers
Our update on overcoming the barriers we faced in finding suitable housing for Chrissy when she was discharged from the assessment & treatment unit was published by The Centre for Welfare Reform
The Government’s personalisation agenda offers people with a learning disability greater choice and control over their lives, which include more opportunities for community-based living but Jane Gregory had to overcome many barriers to achieving this for her daughter Chrissy.
Chrissy, who is 31, has moderate-severe learning disabilities, autism and complex needs caused by a rare chromosome disorder. For most of her adult life, she had been expected to fit in with the group home services that were available. In January 2010, she was admitted into an inpatient unit due to an escalation in her challenging behaviours, which can be extreme and unpredictable. Four years later, when she was ready for discharge, it was agreed that she needed a ‘bespoke’ supported living package in the community… but whose community?
Chrissy’s local community proved too expensive to be viable for the home ownership schemes that were left after Government cuts in benefits, grants and services, which Simon Duffy suggests cost people with severe disabilities 19 times dearer than most other citizens (Duffy, 2013). Government cuts have further reduced the already limited housing options of people with intellectual disabilities.
Moreover, the Primary Care Trust (now a clinical commissioning group) which was funding Chrissy’s care ‘without prejudice’ while she was an inpatient, suggested that she needed to move into an unfamiliar urban community, because housing is cheaper than in the small rural community where her family live. There, the close bonds she has with her family and community links formed by regular visits to her parents’ home could have been built on to improve her quality of life; they would also be on hand to provide back-up in emergencies. We feared that Chrissy would struggle to form community relationships in an unfamiliar area, even with the best of carers.
The PCT raised cost as a potential barrier with every local housing option we suggested. A further barrier was a five-year funding dispute over Chrissy’s eligibility for continuing healthcare, which delayed discharge planning. The PCT reasoned that, if it turned out not to be the responsible commissioner, it was potentially open to a challenge that it had fettered the relevant responsible commissioner’s discretion by agreeing to a placement that was outside that body’s policies and/or resources.
While the main barrier is cost, Chrissy’s experiences demonstrate that the infrastructure isn’t there to enable people like her to move into successful community placements. The various housing options are incredibly complicated and family carers have to become experts as they’re left to do most of the research. We looked at raising the funds to buy Chrissy a house ourselves and renting it out to her but new, confusing rule changes preclude renting to relatives. We also looked into shared ownership schemes but there weren’t any in our area.
Nor does Housing Benefit cover the cost of rents in Chrissy’s local area and the Housing Benefit caps made renting through Registered Social Landlords unaffordable. Chrissy’s claim should have been ‘exempt’ or excluded from the ordinary rules that cap Housing Benefit but this is discretionary and it isn’t made clear whether someone is eligible for an exemption until they apply for the benefit – which is only possible once they’ve secured a property. Mencap suggested that the PCT should underwrite the risks because they are responsible for the whole care package, but the PCT wouldn’t agree to this. Instead they offered one of their own two-bedroomed properties, which Chrissy would have to share with another vulnerable adult. In the past, Chrissy’s behavioural challenges have had a huge impact on others she has lived with, and resulted in traumatic placement breakdowns. Chrissy’s verbal abilities are limited and she frequently expresses herself in severe challenging behaviours; she may disrobe, self-injure, thrash about violently and scream for long periods.
The need for Chrissy to live on her own was supported by a person-centred plan (PCP) that an independent advocacy service helped her and her family to develop. In all its rich, pictorial and anecdotal detail it gave Chrissy a ‘voice.’ The PCP informed decisions to be made in Chrissy’s best interests that, due to the inter-related complexities of her mental and physical health, she needed to live on her own.
Social housing via the local council was Chrissy’s last hope. We registered Chrissy on the waiting list but she wasn’t considered to have a priority housing need, unlike most people who are leaving hospital and need housing. A housing officer said Chrissy was “hardly going to end up on the streets”.
I spearheaded a campaign, lobbying MPs and contacting learning disability charities, to highlight Chrissy’s need for accessible housing to allow her discharge from hospital. In 2010 Raising our sights (Department of Health) Mansell states that only by the efforts of their pioneering families, who had to overcome discrimination, prejudice, and low expectation, did we start to hear about how people with more complex and severe disabilities manage to make the most of the opportunities presented by the government’s personalisation agenda.
The breakthrough came when a local MP I had contacted highlighted Chrissy’s case to someone at a high level in the housing department. Chrissy’s housing category was re-assessed to top priority banding because she required urgent hospital discharge as the accommodation in the assessment and treatment unit had become unsuitable for her needs. (The unit has since been permanently closed down after the Care Quality Commission reported multiple, serious safeguarding concerns).
I checked the social housing list every week and in November 2013, a two-bedroomed bungalow in a location near Chrissy’s family came up. My bid, on Chrissy’s behalf, was successful.
Thanks to the campaigning efforts of Chrissy’s family, stakeholders finally shelved their funding differences long enough to act in Chrissy’s best interests to plan her discharge.
I was invited to take part in the tendering process to appoint a domiciliary care agency and the selection of care-workers who would support Chrissy. In March 2014, Chrissy moved into her new bungalow, where she now lives alone with full-time support.
Moving into her own home has allowed Chrissy more autonomy and self-determination. Moreover, she receives important benefits from living alone in that, for the first time in her life, her support is completely personalised. She can have all her own things around her and any autism-related needs can be met, i.e., the need for her own space. Crucially, given her history of residential placement breakdowns, she has the long-term security of her own tenancy. I have peace of mind because there is no reason why she shouldn’t be there for life now.
It hasn’t all been smooth-sailing. Probably as a reaction to another upheaval in her life, Chrissy destroyed many of her new furniture and belongings soon after she moved in and they had to be replaced. However, the destructive behaviours gradually reduced as she got used to her new environment.
Our struggles to empower Chrissy to lead as settled a life as possible have been worthwhile. She now receives pro-active, personalised, collaborative and strength-based approaches that fit with her needs. When she is feeling well and gets the right care and support, Chrissy can be a delight – funny, joyful and loving, with a great sense of the ridiculous.
The Government is very clear that people with a learning disability should be supported to live in their own communities; it is difficult to understand why there were so many barriers in place and Chrissy’s family had to do so much fighting to overcome them. Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation included Chrissy’s story in their Out of Sight report (Mencap, 2012).
Read more about the family’s experiences on Jane Gregory’s Sharing Stories blog.
References:
Duffy S (2013, January). A fair society. How the cuts target disabled people. Sheffield: The Centre for Welfare Reform. Retrieved from http://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/uploads/attachment/354/a-fair-society.pdf Duffy 2013
Mansell J (2010) Raising our sights: Services for adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. London: Department of Health.
Mencap & The Challenging Behaviour Foundation (2012) Out of Sight. Mencap, London. Retrieved from http://www.mencap.org.uk/outofsight
The publisher is The Centre for Welfare Reform.
The Search for Suitable Housing © Jane Gregory 2016
The Government’s personalisation agenda offers people with a learning disability greater choice and control over their lives, which include more opportunities for community-based living but Jane Gregory had to overcome many barriers to achieving this for her daughter Chrissy.
Chrissy, who is 31, has moderate-severe learning disabilities, autism and complex needs caused by a rare chromosome disorder. For most of her adult life, she had been expected to fit in with the group home services that were available. In January 2010, she was admitted into an inpatient unit due to an escalation in her challenging behaviours, which can be extreme and unpredictable. Four years later, when she was ready for discharge, it was agreed that she needed a ‘bespoke’ supported living package in the community… but whose community?
Chrissy’s local community proved too expensive to be viable for the home ownership schemes that were left after Government cuts in benefits, grants and services, which Simon Duffy suggests cost people with severe disabilities 19 times dearer than most other citizens (Duffy, 2013). Government cuts have further reduced the already limited housing options of people with intellectual disabilities.
Moreover, the Primary Care Trust (now a clinical commissioning group) which was funding Chrissy’s care ‘without prejudice’ while she was an inpatient, suggested that she needed to move into an unfamiliar urban community, because housing is cheaper than in the small rural community where her family live. There, the close bonds she has with her family and community links formed by regular visits to her parents’ home could have been built on to improve her quality of life; they would also be on hand to provide back-up in emergencies. We feared that Chrissy would struggle to form community relationships in an unfamiliar area, even with the best of carers.
The PCT raised cost as a potential barrier with every local housing option we suggested. A further barrier was a five-year funding dispute over Chrissy’s eligibility for continuing healthcare, which delayed discharge planning. The PCT reasoned that, if it turned out not to be the responsible commissioner, it was potentially open to a challenge that it had fettered the relevant responsible commissioner’s discretion by agreeing to a placement that was outside that body’s policies and/or resources.
While the main barrier is cost, Chrissy’s experiences demonstrate that the infrastructure isn’t there to enable people like her to move into successful community placements. The various housing options are incredibly complicated and family carers have to become experts as they’re left to do most of the research. We looked at raising the funds to buy Chrissy a house ourselves and renting it out to her but new, confusing rule changes preclude renting to relatives. We also looked into shared ownership schemes but there weren’t any in our area.
Nor does Housing Benefit cover the cost of rents in Chrissy’s local area and the Housing Benefit caps made renting through Registered Social Landlords unaffordable. Chrissy’s claim should have been ‘exempt’ or excluded from the ordinary rules that cap Housing Benefit but this is discretionary and it isn’t made clear whether someone is eligible for an exemption until they apply for the benefit – which is only possible once they’ve secured a property. Mencap suggested that the PCT should underwrite the risks because they are responsible for the whole care package, but the PCT wouldn’t agree to this. Instead they offered one of their own two-bedroomed properties, which Chrissy would have to share with another vulnerable adult. In the past, Chrissy’s behavioural challenges have had a huge impact on others she has lived with, and resulted in traumatic placement breakdowns. Chrissy’s verbal abilities are limited and she frequently expresses herself in severe challenging behaviours; she may disrobe, self-injure, thrash about violently and scream for long periods.
The need for Chrissy to live on her own was supported by a person-centred plan (PCP) that an independent advocacy service helped her and her family to develop. In all its rich, pictorial and anecdotal detail it gave Chrissy a ‘voice.’ The PCP informed decisions to be made in Chrissy’s best interests that, due to the inter-related complexities of her mental and physical health, she needed to live on her own.
Social housing via the local council was Chrissy’s last hope. We registered Chrissy on the waiting list but she wasn’t considered to have a priority housing need, unlike most people who are leaving hospital and need housing. A housing officer said Chrissy was “hardly going to end up on the streets”.
I spearheaded a campaign, lobbying MPs and contacting learning disability charities, to highlight Chrissy’s need for accessible housing to allow her discharge from hospital. In 2010 Raising our sights (Department of Health) Mansell states that only by the efforts of their pioneering families, who had to overcome discrimination, prejudice, and low expectation, did we start to hear about how people with more complex and severe disabilities manage to make the most of the opportunities presented by the government’s personalisation agenda.
The breakthrough came when a local MP I had contacted highlighted Chrissy’s case to someone at a high level in the housing department. Chrissy’s housing category was re-assessed to top priority banding because she required urgent hospital discharge as the accommodation in the assessment and treatment unit had become unsuitable for her needs. (The unit has since been permanently closed down after the Care Quality Commission reported multiple, serious safeguarding concerns).
I checked the social housing list every week and in November 2013, a two-bedroomed bungalow in a location near Chrissy’s family came up. My bid, on Chrissy’s behalf, was successful.
Thanks to the campaigning efforts of Chrissy’s family, stakeholders finally shelved their funding differences long enough to act in Chrissy’s best interests to plan her discharge.
I was invited to take part in the tendering process to appoint a domiciliary care agency and the selection of care-workers who would support Chrissy. In March 2014, Chrissy moved into her new bungalow, where she now lives alone with full-time support.
Moving into her own home has allowed Chrissy more autonomy and self-determination. Moreover, she receives important benefits from living alone in that, for the first time in her life, her support is completely personalised. She can have all her own things around her and any autism-related needs can be met, i.e., the need for her own space. Crucially, given her history of residential placement breakdowns, she has the long-term security of her own tenancy. I have peace of mind because there is no reason why she shouldn’t be there for life now.
It hasn’t all been smooth-sailing. Probably as a reaction to another upheaval in her life, Chrissy destroyed many of her new furniture and belongings soon after she moved in and they had to be replaced. However, the destructive behaviours gradually reduced as she got used to her new environment.
Our struggles to empower Chrissy to lead as settled a life as possible have been worthwhile. She now receives pro-active, personalised, collaborative and strength-based approaches that fit with her needs. When she is feeling well and gets the right care and support, Chrissy can be a delight – funny, joyful and loving, with a great sense of the ridiculous.
The Government is very clear that people with a learning disability should be supported to live in their own communities; it is difficult to understand why there were so many barriers in place and Chrissy’s family had to do so much fighting to overcome them. Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation included Chrissy’s story in their Out of Sight report (Mencap, 2012).
Read more about the family’s experiences on Jane Gregory’s Sharing Stories blog.
References:
Duffy S (2013, January). A fair society. How the cuts target disabled people. Sheffield: The Centre for Welfare Reform. Retrieved from http://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/uploads/attachment/354/a-fair-society.pdf Duffy 2013
Mansell J (2010) Raising our sights: Services for adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. London: Department of Health.
Mencap & The Challenging Behaviour Foundation (2012) Out of Sight. Mencap, London. Retrieved from http://www.mencap.org.uk/outofsight
The publisher is The Centre for Welfare Reform.
The Search for Suitable Housing © Jane Gregory 2016
A follow-up to my post about the barriers we faced in moving Chrissy out of an assessment & treatment unit into the community.
The Search for Suitable Housing
Author: Jane Gregory
The Government’s personalisation agenda offers people with a learning disability greater choice and control over their lives, which include more opportunities for community-based living but Jane Gregory had to overcome many barriers to achieving this for her daughter Chrissy.
Chrissy, who is 31, has moderate-severe learning disabilities, autism and complex needs caused by a rare chromosome disorder. For most of her adult life, she had been expected to fit in with the group home services that were available. In January 2010, she was admitted into an inpatient unit due to an escalation in her challenging behaviours, which can be extreme and unpredictable. Four years later, when she was ready for discharge, it was agreed that she needed a ‘bespoke’ supported living package in the community… but whose community?
Chrissy’s local community proved too expensive to be viable for the home ownership schemes that were left after Government cuts in benefits, grants and services, which Simon Duffy suggests cost people with severe disabilities 19 times dearer than most other citizens (Duffy, 2013). Government cuts have further reduced the already limited housing options of people with intellectual disabilities.
Moreover, the Primary Care Trust (now a clinical commissioning group) which was funding Chrissy’s care ‘without prejudice’ while she was an inpatient, suggested that she needed to move into an unfamiliar urban community, because housing is cheaper than in the small rural community where her family live. There, the close bonds she has with her family and community links formed by regular visits to her parents’ home could have been built on to improve her quality of life; they would also be on hand to provide back-up in emergencies. We feared that Chrissy would struggle to form community relationships in an unfamiliar area, even with the best of carers.
The PCT raised cost as a potential barrier with every local housing option we suggested. A further barrier was a five-year funding dispute over Chrissy’s eligibility for continuing healthcare, which delayed discharge planning. The PCT reasoned that, if it turned out not to be the responsible commissioner, it was potentially open to a challenge that it had fettered the relevant responsible commissioner’s discretion by agreeing to a placement that was outside that body’s policies and/or resources.
While the main barrier is cost, Chrissy’s experiences demonstrate that the infrastructure isn’t there to enable people like her to move into successful community placements. The various housing options are incredibly complicated and family carers have to become experts as they’re left to do most of the research. We looked at raising the funds to buy Chrissy a house ourselves and renting it out to her but new, confusing rule changes preclude renting to relatives. We also looked into shared ownership schemes but there weren’t any in our area.
Nor does Housing Benefit cover the cost of rents in Chrissy’s local area and the Housing Benefit caps made renting through Registered Social Landlords unaffordable. Chrissy’s claim should have been ‘exempt’ or excluded from the ordinary rules that cap Housing Benefit but this is discretionary and it isn’t made clear whether someone is eligible for an exemption until they apply for the benefit – which is only possible once they’ve secured a property. Mencap suggested that the PCT should underwrite the risks because they are responsible for the whole care package, but the PCT wouldn’t agree to this. Instead they offered one of their own two-bedroomed properties, which Chrissy would have to share with another vulnerable adult. In the past, Chrissy’s behavioural challenges have had a huge impact on others she has lived with, and resulted in traumatic placement breakdowns. Chrissy’s verbal abilities are limited and she frequently expresses herself in severe challenging behaviours; she may disrobe, self-injure, thrash about violently and scream for long periods.
The need for Chrissy to live on her own was supported by a person-centred plan (PCP) that an independent advocacy service helped her and her family to develop. In all its rich, pictorial and anecdotal detail it gave Chrissy a ‘voice.’ The PCP informed decisions to be made in Chrissy’s best interests that, due to the inter-related complexities of her mental and physical health, she needed to live on her own.
Social housing via the local council was Chrissy’s last hope. We registered Chrissy on the waiting list but she wasn’t considered to have a priority housing need, unlike most people who are leaving hospital and need housing. A housing officer said Chrissy was “hardly going to end up on the streets”.
I spearheaded a campaign, lobbying MPs and contacting learning disability charities, to highlight Chrissy’s need for accessible housing to allow her discharge from hospital. In 2010 Raising our sights (Department of Health) Mansell states that only by the efforts of their pioneering families, who had to overcome discrimination, prejudice, and low expectation, did we start to hear about how people with more complex and severe disabilities manage to make the most of the opportunities presented by the government’s personalisation agenda.
The breakthrough came when a local MP I had contacted highlighted Chrissy’s case to someone at a high level in the housing department. Chrissy’s housing category was re-assessed to top priority banding because she required urgent hospital discharge as the accommodation in the assessment and treatment unit had become unsuitable for her needs. (The unit has since been permanently closed down after the Care Quality Commission reported multiple, serious safeguarding concerns).
I checked the social housing list every week and in November 2013, a two-bedroomed bungalow in a location near Chrissy’s family came up. My bid, on Chrissy’s behalf, was successful.
Thanks to the campaigning efforts of Chrissy’s family, stakeholders finally shelved their funding differences long enough to act in Chrissy’s best interests to plan her discharge.
I was invited to take part in the tendering process to appoint a domiciliary care agency and the selection of care-workers who would support Chrissy. In March 2014, Chrissy moved into her new bungalow, where she now lives alone with full-time support.
Moving into her own home has allowed Chrissy more autonomy and self-determination. Moreover, she receives important benefits from living alone in that, for the first time in her life, her support is completely personalised. She can have all her own things around her and any autism-related needs can be met, i.e., the need for her own space. Crucially, given her history of residential placement breakdowns, she has the long-term security of her own tenancy. I have peace of mind because there is no reason why she shouldn’t be there for life now.
It hasn’t all been smooth-sailing. Probably as a reaction to another upheaval in her life, Chrissy destroyed many of her new furniture and belongings soon after she moved in and they had to be replaced. However, the destructive behaviours gradually reduced as she got used to her new environment.
Our struggles to empower Chrissy to lead as settled a life as possible have been worthwhile. She now receives pro-active, personalised, collaborative and strength-based approaches that fit with her needs. When she is feeling well and gets the right care and support, Chrissy can be a delight – funny, joyful and loving, with a great sense of the ridiculous.
The Government is very clear that people with a learning disability should be supported to live in their own communities; it is difficult to understand why there were so many barriers in place and Chrissy’s family had to do so much fighting to overcome them. Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation included Chrissy’s story in their Out of Sight report (Mencap, 2012).
Read more about the family’s experiences on Jane Gregory’s Sharing Stories blog.
References:
Duffy S (2013, January). A fair society. How the cuts target disabled people. Sheffield: The Centre for Welfare Reform. Retrieved from http://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/uploads/attachment/354/a-fair-society.pdf Duffy 2013
Mansell J (2010) Raising our sights: Services for adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. London: Department of Health.
Mencap & The Challenging Behaviour Foundation (2012) Out of Sight. Mencap, London. Retrieved from http://www.mencap.org.uk/outofsight
The Search for Suitable Housing
Author: Jane Gregory
The Government’s personalisation agenda offers people with a learning disability greater choice and control over their lives, which include more opportunities for community-based living but Jane Gregory had to overcome many barriers to achieving this for her daughter Chrissy.
Chrissy, who is 31, has moderate-severe learning disabilities, autism and complex needs caused by a rare chromosome disorder. For most of her adult life, she had been expected to fit in with the group home services that were available. In January 2010, she was admitted into an inpatient unit due to an escalation in her challenging behaviours, which can be extreme and unpredictable. Four years later, when she was ready for discharge, it was agreed that she needed a ‘bespoke’ supported living package in the community… but whose community?
Chrissy’s local community proved too expensive to be viable for the home ownership schemes that were left after Government cuts in benefits, grants and services, which Simon Duffy suggests cost people with severe disabilities 19 times dearer than most other citizens (Duffy, 2013). Government cuts have further reduced the already limited housing options of people with intellectual disabilities.
Moreover, the Primary Care Trust (now a clinical commissioning group) which was funding Chrissy’s care ‘without prejudice’ while she was an inpatient, suggested that she needed to move into an unfamiliar urban community, because housing is cheaper than in the small rural community where her family live. There, the close bonds she has with her family and community links formed by regular visits to her parents’ home could have been built on to improve her quality of life; they would also be on hand to provide back-up in emergencies. We feared that Chrissy would struggle to form community relationships in an unfamiliar area, even with the best of carers.
The PCT raised cost as a potential barrier with every local housing option we suggested. A further barrier was a five-year funding dispute over Chrissy’s eligibility for continuing healthcare, which delayed discharge planning. The PCT reasoned that, if it turned out not to be the responsible commissioner, it was potentially open to a challenge that it had fettered the relevant responsible commissioner’s discretion by agreeing to a placement that was outside that body’s policies and/or resources.
While the main barrier is cost, Chrissy’s experiences demonstrate that the infrastructure isn’t there to enable people like her to move into successful community placements. The various housing options are incredibly complicated and family carers have to become experts as they’re left to do most of the research. We looked at raising the funds to buy Chrissy a house ourselves and renting it out to her but new, confusing rule changes preclude renting to relatives. We also looked into shared ownership schemes but there weren’t any in our area.
Nor does Housing Benefit cover the cost of rents in Chrissy’s local area and the Housing Benefit caps made renting through Registered Social Landlords unaffordable. Chrissy’s claim should have been ‘exempt’ or excluded from the ordinary rules that cap Housing Benefit but this is discretionary and it isn’t made clear whether someone is eligible for an exemption until they apply for the benefit – which is only possible once they’ve secured a property. Mencap suggested that the PCT should underwrite the risks because they are responsible for the whole care package, but the PCT wouldn’t agree to this. Instead they offered one of their own two-bedroomed properties, which Chrissy would have to share with another vulnerable adult. In the past, Chrissy’s behavioural challenges have had a huge impact on others she has lived with, and resulted in traumatic placement breakdowns. Chrissy’s verbal abilities are limited and she frequently expresses herself in severe challenging behaviours; she may disrobe, self-injure, thrash about violently and scream for long periods.
The need for Chrissy to live on her own was supported by a person-centred plan (PCP) that an independent advocacy service helped her and her family to develop. In all its rich, pictorial and anecdotal detail it gave Chrissy a ‘voice.’ The PCP informed decisions to be made in Chrissy’s best interests that, due to the inter-related complexities of her mental and physical health, she needed to live on her own.
Social housing via the local council was Chrissy’s last hope. We registered Chrissy on the waiting list but she wasn’t considered to have a priority housing need, unlike most people who are leaving hospital and need housing. A housing officer said Chrissy was “hardly going to end up on the streets”.
I spearheaded a campaign, lobbying MPs and contacting learning disability charities, to highlight Chrissy’s need for accessible housing to allow her discharge from hospital. In 2010 Raising our sights (Department of Health) Mansell states that only by the efforts of their pioneering families, who had to overcome discrimination, prejudice, and low expectation, did we start to hear about how people with more complex and severe disabilities manage to make the most of the opportunities presented by the government’s personalisation agenda.
The breakthrough came when a local MP I had contacted highlighted Chrissy’s case to someone at a high level in the housing department. Chrissy’s housing category was re-assessed to top priority banding because she required urgent hospital discharge as the accommodation in the assessment and treatment unit had become unsuitable for her needs. (The unit has since been permanently closed down after the Care Quality Commission reported multiple, serious safeguarding concerns).
I checked the social housing list every week and in November 2013, a two-bedroomed bungalow in a location near Chrissy’s family came up. My bid, on Chrissy’s behalf, was successful.
Thanks to the campaigning efforts of Chrissy’s family, stakeholders finally shelved their funding differences long enough to act in Chrissy’s best interests to plan her discharge.
I was invited to take part in the tendering process to appoint a domiciliary care agency and the selection of care-workers who would support Chrissy. In March 2014, Chrissy moved into her new bungalow, where she now lives alone with full-time support.
Moving into her own home has allowed Chrissy more autonomy and self-determination. Moreover, she receives important benefits from living alone in that, for the first time in her life, her support is completely personalised. She can have all her own things around her and any autism-related needs can be met, i.e., the need for her own space. Crucially, given her history of residential placement breakdowns, she has the long-term security of her own tenancy. I have peace of mind because there is no reason why she shouldn’t be there for life now.
It hasn’t all been smooth-sailing. Probably as a reaction to another upheaval in her life, Chrissy destroyed many of her new furniture and belongings soon after she moved in and they had to be replaced. However, the destructive behaviours gradually reduced as she got used to her new environment.
Our struggles to empower Chrissy to lead as settled a life as possible have been worthwhile. She now receives pro-active, personalised, collaborative and strength-based approaches that fit with her needs. When she is feeling well and gets the right care and support, Chrissy can be a delight – funny, joyful and loving, with a great sense of the ridiculous.
The Government is very clear that people with a learning disability should be supported to live in their own communities; it is difficult to understand why there were so many barriers in place and Chrissy’s family had to do so much fighting to overcome them. Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation included Chrissy’s story in their Out of Sight report (Mencap, 2012).
Read more about the family’s experiences on Jane Gregory’s Sharing Stories blog.
References:
Duffy S (2013, January). A fair society. How the cuts target disabled people. Sheffield: The Centre for Welfare Reform. Retrieved from http://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/uploads/attachment/354/a-fair-society.pdf Duffy 2013
Mansell J (2010) Raising our sights: Services for adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. London: Department of Health.
Mencap & The Challenging Behaviour Foundation (2012) Out of Sight. Mencap, London. Retrieved from http://www.mencap.org.uk/outofsight
Tuesday 25 March 2014
Update on Winterbourne View Out of Sight Campaign
Last week I went to Westminster with other families whose loved ones with learning disabilities & challenging behaviour have been supported by Mencap and the Challenging Behaviour Foundation. We told our stories to Norman Lamb MP, Minister for Care.
Another parent has kindly agreed for me to share her blog about the meeting. Please read & support us.
http://www.mencap.org.uk/blogs/my-daughter-s-out-fight-continues
Another parent has kindly agreed for me to share her blog about the meeting. Please read & support us.
http://www.mencap.org.uk/blogs/my-daughter-s-out-fight-continues
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