Worries

Hi everyone. Today’s Sunday Poser is about worries. What worries you about the future?

Unlike Sadje, I mostly have personal worries occupying my mind. Most of them also aren’t long-term. I mean, I do sometimes worry that the sweet and high-fat foods I consume today will lead to an untimely death ten or twenty years from now, but that worry isn’t as all-consuming as my worries about the next few weeks, months or the next year. I joke that, in 2034, everything will be okay. I got that from the book titled 2034, which I still haven’t read and is about World War III erupting that same year. I think it’s more likely that World War III is going to break out that year than that the care system will be any closer to ideal. However, in reality, I can’t look that far into the future, so I know I should care, but really I don’t.

This is probably the same reason the state of the planet doesn’t keep me up at night. That is, except when I read a news article detailing that the magical 1.5 degrees of warming have been hit in some parts of the world in 2023. Then I did worry: will the planet catch fire (not even sure whether I’m talking hyperbolically with all the wildfires we’ve had) next year?

Still, most of my worries concern my personal life. That doesn’t mean the news doesn’t effect me, but it only does when I think it relates to me personally. For instance, when I read that policy makers were talking about reintroducing 24-hour diapering for elderly people who can still use the bathroom but need assistance with it, I was intensely worried. It was said in the same article that the phrase I repeat many times over and over again when talking about my care was: “It’s better to have reasonably good care for two people than excellent care for one person.” Did they mean me? Was my care, with (at the time) nine hours of one-on-one a day, “excellent”? Apparently, because now I have just seven. But I’m still worried they mean me. After all, I still cost considerable money (far more than elderly people needing an hourly assisted bathroom break) and aren’t sedatives cheaper than one-on-one, just like diapers are cheaper than nursing assistants?

It isn’t really a clear thing I do worry about though. I mean, yes, I do worry about my care being cut, but then again, I can’t look far into the future. When I try, I’m always wrong on so many levels. So they remain mostly vague worries that keep me up at night.

Sometimes though, like recently, they’ve been more short-term, concrete things that worried me, such as over the past week the fact that my support coordinator, behavior specialist and intellectual disability physician had a meeting on Friday. The positive news is that the explicit compensatory system, by which every minute I’d come out of my unsupported time in distress had to be compensated for at my next one-on-one moment, was discontinued. Rather, from now on, staff will again discuss with me once I’m calm whether they can come back at a later time for my next support moment since they needed to spend more time on me. I am so happy I no longer have the compensatory system hanging over my head, even though some staff said the end result would be the same. I don’t care about the end result (which, by the way, will probably mean I’ll need slightly less support, honestly); I care that this makes me feel much more comfortable.