Taking Care 6 (iii)

      After three months in the job, I had my first supervision.  Malcolm was my appointed supervisor.  I was dreading it.

       "It's just a formality, really," he said. "A few questions to see how you're getting on, whether there's anything you want to bring up."

       I didn't have a lot to say.  Just that I was enjoying things so far, and felt that I was fitting in okay at the Centre.  I told him I felt quite pleased with progress, and mentioned the thing with Greg - how I'd managed to get him to do a few different things since that day with the ball game.

       "Well, I can tell you something about that," he said.  "Greg always takes a bit of cracking.  I should know as I'm his key worker.  You have to work with him a long time.  You might have noticed he's been wearing a new coat to the Centre this week."

       I had.  It was a smart yellow zip-up puffer jacket.

       "I took him out last weekend and bought it," Malcolm went on.  "He spent ages choosing it.  We came back, and he took it straight upstairs and hung it in his wardrobe.  And there it stayed until Monday morning, when he was getting ready for the Centre.  He refused to put it on or even get it out of the wardrobe until then.  He wanted you to see it the first time he wore it."

       I chuckled.  I half-thought he was kidding.

       "Straight up," he said.  "He wouldn't even wear it for me.  Now... that's respect, in my book."

       I was quite taken aback.  It brought a lump to my throat.

       "I didn't know that," I said.  "We have been getting along pretty well, though."     

       He gave a nod of acknowledgement.

       "Well, that's a big bit of progress in a short time," he said.  "So full marks."

       I was chuffed to bits.  It felt like such a validation.  A personal one.  And this time, there wasn't any pretence about it.  I knew enough about these folks now to know it was geniune.  It was a sincere form of loyalty, and one I'd rarely encountered before.

       We finished up with Malcolm setting me a task to complete before the next supervision in three months' time.  He wanted me to learn about the residents' medications: what they took, how often a day, dosages, etc.  Also to find out what conditions they took them for.

       "Oh, and Andrea said that you've been here three months now, so you're alright to give Ian his tablet at lunchtimes at the Centre.  You know his usual dosage, anyway."

       "Okay," I said.  I was a bit surprised.  I'd expected to need proper training before administering medication.  But nothing was mentioned.  I assumed, then, it was based purely on length of service and trust.  So that was that.

       "Anything else?" he said, closing his notebook.

       I decided to bite the bullet.  The things he'd told me had given me a boost.

       "Andrea did ask me a short while ago if I wanted to do any extra shifts.  But I'm happy with what I've got.  I need to keep weekends free for my study work."

       "Okay," he said.  "I'll pass that on.  I don't suppose it'll be a problem.  Just keep on doing what you're doing, and I'm sure she'll be happy enough."

       That evening, I went home feeling much lighter than I'd felt those last few weeks. 

       I was buzzing, in fact!

*

      During the summer, we got out on more trips from the Centre.  The heat made a few people fractious, so it was good to go for a drive in an air-conditioned bus.  Sometimes we'd just drive around the countryside.  Other times we'd go somewhere special. Capstone Park in Gillingham, Mote Park in Maidstone or Kearsney Abbey near Dover - places where we could sit in the shade and have a picnic.  The folks always enjoyed these outings and looked forward to them hugely.  The logistics could get tricky sometimes, with just three staff to manage eighteen people (including a few who needed medication or personal care). There were occasions, though, when Maggie and Laura had to work in-house to cover staff shortages.  So it would just be me and my folks.  Those were days when we'd definitely go out.  Perhaps take a few quid from petty cash so that we could have a drink or an ice cream

       One such day, I had my regular crew - except Ian, who'd been replaced by Richard.  Richard was the older man.  He had moderate learning disabilities, and a slightly disabled leg, which meant he couldn't walk far.  He liked to keep active, though.  He got along very well with Lizzie and they often did activities together.  He was very chatty, too - far more so than any of the others.  He loved to talk about music or films, and would often dominate conversations with the subjects.  He especially loved Elvis Presley, and would sing along if ever I played an Elvis CD.

       I'd reached the stage where I knew enough about these people - their favourite activities, food and drink preferences, moods, triggers, etc - to be confident that I could handle most situations.  I knew what I could and couldn't do.  I'd never had any serious problems, and had been on several trips out alone with them.  Usually - as with that particular day - I'd take Jamie's wheelchair, which made it easier to manage everyone in a public space.  Malcolm and Andrea had told me that Shirley was quite capable of pushing the chair if needed. It was good for her self-esteem to help staff, they'd said.  I knew no better, so I didn't argue.

       We'd spent the morning driving along the coast, and everything had been fine.  We'd been singing along to the radio, discussing activities, things like that.  Everyone was in good spirits.  At lunchtime, I pulled up by a stretch of grass near a local beach. It was a quiet road - a few houses, not much traffic. I turned and looked at them.

       "How about a picnic here?" I said.

       "Y-Y-Yes!" piped Shirley.

       "Lovely," Raymond said, taking off his seatbelt and licking his lips. "I'm starvin' 'ungry."

        Lizzie showed me her biggest gap-toothed grin.  Greg chuckled in his own inimitable way.  Jamie's eyes were wide with joy and he gave his happiest "Maah!"

       Steven was the only one who didn't respond, but that wasn't unusual.  He sat there in his corner seat, chatting to himself.  It was amiable chatter, though.  He was the only one, really, I'd need to watch with his moods. But he liked getting out and had always been fine before.  Richard and Lizzie would be okay.  Shirley could push Jamie in the chair.  As for Greg, we were now best buddies.  He was like a right-hand man to me, always willing to help.  He'd push the trolley with shopping, carry bags - even sometimes remind me of anything I might have forgotten.  So I was confident we'd be alright.

       I helped Jamie into his chair, and Shirley and Greg stood with him.  Then Lizzie and Richard got out.  They took a handle of the lunchbox each and walked with it onto the grass.  It was just Steven now.

       "Lunchtime, Steven," I said to him as I released his seat belt.  "Let's go and find a picnic table, shall we?"

       At that moment, it was like a switch had been thrown in his head.  Both his face and his voice changed.

       "Not like that, Steven," he shouted.  "Not going to do it!  NOT GOING TO DO IT!"

       At that, he pushed past me out of the bus and made for someone's garden fence, which he commenced to kick repeatedly and very hard.

       "NOT GOING TO DO IT, STEVEN! NOT GOING TO DO IT."

       It all happened so quickly that I was stunned. I'd never seen him like this before. He was shouting so loudly that people stopped to look.  I went over to him, keeping as calm as I could.

       "It's alright, Steven.  We'll get back in the bus."

       He carried on kicking the fence. Spit was flying from his mouth as he laid into it.

       "BLOODY HELL!" he screamed.  "NOT GOING TO DO IT!  LEAVE IT OUT, STEVEN!  LEAVE IT OUT!"

       I kept speaking softly to him, keeping my distance as I'd been told.  Jamie had now become upset and was crying, though he was safe.  Shirley was standing quietly, holding onto his wheelchair.  Greg was behind her, just watching.  He was clearly perturbed, shaking his head and scowling, but was otherwise okay.  As for Richard and Lizzie - they'd sat down at the picnic table and were happily chatting, like nothing was happening.

       More and more people were turning to look.  I didn't have a clue what else to do, except stand there and keep talking calmly and quietly to him.  And that finally seemed to be all that was needed.  After what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than a minute, he stopped kicking the fence and just stood there looking at it.  His upper body was heaving with the exertion of the meltdown.  He'd used up so much energy that he seemed exhausted.

       "That's it, Steven," I said.  "Good man.  Nice and calm now.  Well done."

       He continued just standing there for a few moments. 

       "Well done, Steven," he said, evenly.

       It was done.  He had nothing more left.  "That's right.  Shall we get back in the bus and go home now?"

       He turned his head and looked at the bus - the door still open - as he thought about this.

       "Go back," he said.

       He turned then and stepped back over to the bus and got in.  I was right behind him, helping him to get settled and put his belt on.  When I got out again, Shirley was still standing by with Jamie. He was calm again now.  Greg came up to me.

       "Alright, mate?" he said, quietly.

       "Yeah.  Come on.  Let's get everyone in and go back."

       I called to Richard and Lizzie, who were both still sitting at the bench chatting.

       "Ooh," Richard sighed.  "But we've only just got here."

       "I know.  But we'll find somewhere else.  I'll put some Elvis on."

       That did the trick.  They grabbed the lunchbox between them again and came back. 

       By now, Steven was back to his amiable chatter.  I got everyone into their seats, folded Jamie's chair and put it in the boot, and we got going.

       "Well done, everyone," I said, as we drove along.  "I'm proud of you all for being so calm."

       "D-Did we d-d-do the right t-thing, W-Will?" Shirley asked.

       "You did.  Thank you."

       "Alright," she said.  Then she settled back.

       "Will?" Richard piped up.

       "Yes, Richard."

       "I'm still starvin' 'ungry."

       "I know, mate.  As soon as we get back, we'll tuck in."

       "Good," he said.

       Jamie gave a happy "Maah!"

       I drove straight back to the Centre and got their lunches.

       And the rest of the afternoon was quiet and calm.

 

       When we got back to Remus Lodge, I went straight to the office and told Andrea what had happened.  I expected a bollocking, but she brushed it off. 

       "It's not the first time something like that's happened, don't worry," she said.

       "But I've never seen him behave like that before," I said.  "And it just came out of nowhere."

       "It does," she said.  "It most likely wasn't anything you did.  He probably just didn't want to get out of the bus, that's all.  I wouldn't worry about it."

       She gave me an incident form to fill in, telling me to make it as complete as possible.  "Just get it back to me as soon as you can."

       I turned to leave the office.

       "And well done for handling it so calmly," she added.  "No one was hurt.  That's always the main thing."

(continued.... soonish!)