Shouts From Down Under

Motivated writing- all the difference or too little too late

The most challenged person, who may normally show no sign or interest in anything, can morph into a skilled workaholic, given a specific reason, or the right desire stimulated.

I'm constantly amazed what people with severe mental and physical disabilities do, often suddenly and unexpectedly, if they want something bad enough. You can so easily assume their heads are effectively empty, and their understanding limited, until that moment that either shocks the observant, or is overlooked by the apathetic.

I like to think I'm the former-- the guy / support worker who energetically focuses on every gesture, signal, facial expression and body movement-- any activity-- indicating how they think and what they want to communicate.
While it is unacceptable to consider people with disabilities some sort of "plaything" or an exhibit, or some macabre human lab-rat research participant, we can learn so much from them and be constantly surprised by their hidden intellect.

I like to feel some sort of extra closeness to each one, by careful observation, attentiveness, awareness of their limited ways to put across that universal language of humans that we can so easily dismiss; belonging. Self worth. Purpose. Cleverness. Competitiveness. Curiosity.
This language also consists, obviously, of those basics that every human requires to live. While it should be common sense, we are all mere humans, failings and all. Warts and all. I'm the same as anyone else. I try, but sometimes it's so obvious how far short we fall in our care for another. Our support can just be surface, appearance, justified, employed, paid. These people are like all of us, and their existence demands deep care, love, support, respect. Most people lead busy lives that are overloaded with the problems of living, eating, paying bills, raising children, dodging problems, and finding purpose.

However, as support workers, we are responsible to not only get off our butts in our own lives, and have our own motivation nailed down, but also caring for another human, and recognising their needs. We are (SHOULD BE) walking through daily life in tandem with them. We are like a driving tutor, or flying instructor, with our hands on that extra set of controls, so that we can gently nudge or guide the other person in a safer direction, or take care of their basic needs. They can't tell us they are thirsty, or ask for food if they are hungry. They can't tell us if their throat is sore, or they are frightened, or that their back is driving them insane (joke not intended) from itching, or that they have a huge gall stone, or that someone else is giving them sneaky emotional, physical or psychological grief.

There is a predatory side of humanity that we'd prefer not to think about, much less discuss. But in this industry, healthcare and suchlike, there can be no shadow, no excuse, no hypocrisy, no procrastination, no blame shifting, no apathy. This is not an easy stance to contemplate for someone with anxiety issues, but I feel that by turning my weaknesses into a positive, and using the personal experience of these problems to show empathy towards others, then it has to be a good thing, be useful.

Zero Tolerance is a vital key, of course. We cannot tolerate the faintest whiff of neglect, abuse etc of those who cannot defend themselves, or even those who can.

But I'm talking about stuff beyond the obvious. What if people are living ok, getting by, and are reasonably healthy and calm on the surface. What if they are quiet, appear unworried, seem to be satisfied, and to the casual observer, there is nothing wrong with the picture.

We can all be unpaid support workers. It just needs education, plus a desire kindled in each of us; a desire of loving kindness that goes the extra mile, that gives, freely.

Sometimes motivation can be misdirected, with dire results. And people who can't talk or communicate beyond very limited means, are no different than the Thylacine was, back in the 1800's.

The Thylacine. The Tasmanian Tiger.

There are many claims of sightings, and legendary rumours of some bushmen, particularly in the south of Tasmania, who insist these still exist, but will never tell the location. You can understand why they would have that attitude.
What would be the chances for the extinct Tasmanian Tigers today, if people knew where they were? About as much chance as a person with severe disabilities suddenly speaking, and asking for a drink.

As much as we might try, imagine, dream and strive, sometimes we cannot find a way around Zero.





What motivates people the most is the love of money. Isn't it? There is no denying the feeling of security when we can pay our bills, eat, and clothe ourselves, heat our homes in winter, and help our kids get through college and those difficulties when they set up their own homes.
But I'm not here to talk about money, but the other human motivation.

Lots of people with disabilities I come into contact with have no concept of the value of money that I know of, and they need help with paying for their purchases, making sure they receive the right change etc. Sometimes their understanding can present extra challenges when they don't have enough money in exchange for what they want. Frustration about this issue = screaming loudly at the checkouts. Not helpful for anyone.

You don't notice anyone rushing to buy the stuff they can't afford, and that's right. Sometimes life has a way of limiting people that cannot be changed, made easier, or softened. There can be alternatives, but the value of currency is as set in concrete as the orbit of planets.

So I find myself transposing a lot. Yes, almost mathematical balance. On one hand, every person has those minute by minute desires, needs, wants, whatever. On the other, you have people who cannot say so. They remain silent, so much so, that people assume everything is OK.

I am not superior in any way. But this is an issue I have noticed, and want to express it to others, draw it to THE WORLD'S attention. (Trumpets blasting out in warning announcement)

Ezekiel Ch 33 springs to mind, but that takes the assumption that someone IS an instrument of the Lord. I wouldn't dare, except to say that we can make a difference to others by what we say, more so what we do.

What's your next move, after reading this? Late for work? Need the toilet? Feel like poking in the fridge to see what's appetising? Phoning your Mum? Still in bed because you didn't feel well today? Oh, the wind's up a bit so perhaps you'd like a coat on, and your phone is buzzing again with messages from all your friends. Your red coat, not the blue one today, because today isn't a blue day. You like the softer material of the red one too.

That's not how it is for these little ones who cannot speak. Adults can be little ones too. Frightened. Worried. Anxious. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. Hungry. Thirsty. Have dirty hands. Feel like a hot shower.

Or just be bored with the able bodies who have all their faculties, have all their greatness, have all their friends, have all their opinions and social standing, and yet don't notice someone's silent primary needs.

Elementary Dear Watson.

What piece of these living puzzles can we support them to solve today?


Sparky