Exploring “Safe Ground” in a Less Than Optimal Care System

Posted on by Astrid

I’ve been exploring the concept of “safe ground”. This is a buzzword in the long-term care sector, particularly in the care of people with severe challenging behavior. It is used to describe the idea that people are unconditionally accepted in their care homes and will not be kicked out for their behavior.

I’ve been feeling drawn to this idea, because I’ve been kicked out of services, or out of the particular service I used, for my behavior several times.

One video I watched on the topic of “safe ground” explored a care home for the most severely challenging individuals. As in, there are only 24 places in the entire country. I don’t know why I was drawn to this video, because I’m not nearly the most challenging resident on grounds here, let alone among the top 24 of the country. In fact, I would say that at least one of my fellow residents here at my home is more challenging than me.

There are two concepts to unpack here, which may or may not be related. The first is, why do I identify so strongly with the most difficult of clients in the care system when I’m probably somewhere in the middle? The second is, is “safe ground” only the idea that people won’t be kicked out for their behavior, or is it more generally speaking unconditional acceptance of clients with their unique needs?

I’ll explore the second concept now. I think “safe ground” means more than just not kicking out clients, and in this respect, it’s relevant to me. I think it means (or should mean) seeing the unmet needs behind challenging behavior. Seeing the person rather than the client. I still think that, even if I don’t end up being kicked out of here for my behavior, there’s still a world to win here. I am hopeful that, when the things we discussed a few weeks ago at the meeting between my support coordinator, behavior specialist and me, will be implemented, we’ll get close.

That being said, it’s still 2024 and this means no optimal care for anyone. I think one of the things I wish people would admit is that they’re having to deal with a strained system rather than blaming the client for their challenging behavior.

I ran into this yesterday, because there’s yet another change in staff hours, and yet the other support coordinator claimed everyone gets the attention they need. No, that’s not true, or it depends on how you define “need”. After all, most of us do mostly get our needs for physical care met, by which I mean we get dressed, showered and have something to eat. Most of us however are still routinely left to fend for ourselves when we’re struggling emotionally. I and the more challenging fellow client are the lucky exceptions to this rule. Even so, I would not call my care optimal. That isn’t going to happen and that’s sort of okay, but it makes a massive difference whether staff blame me or they blame the system. In other words, are we talking about things we as clients shouldn’t expect or things they cannot offer? The end result is the same, in that we have unmet care needs, but the latter is a lot more empathetic towards us.

Attention Is a Valid Human Need

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. One of the prompts for this week’s Writer’s Workshop is to write a post based on the word “attention”.

This immediately brings back a flood of memories of my time at the intensive support home. On one particular occasion – but I’m pretty sure there were many more -, a staff said to her coworker about a client in crisis: “It’s all attention.” She said “attention” in English, not Dutch, apparently hoping the client in crisis or his fellow clients (including me) wouldn’t understand. One of my fellow clients immediately chimed in by translating her comment into Dutch.

The idea that challenging behavior is “for attention” is often not entirely based in truth. However, even if it is, attention is a valid human need. And especially at the intensive support home, clients routinely didn’t get it.

You might think we did get more than enough attention, since the staff/client ratio is 1:2 to 1:3 at this home. But more often than not, staff were doing stuff on their phones, chatting to each other and on at least one occasion, I caught two staff playing a board game together and the third cheering for them. That third person was my one-on-one for the moment, but, because I was also playing a game with a fellow client, the staff thought it not necessary to pay attention to me. Then when I started showing signs of distress, he missed them until I ended up in a meltdown, then told me I could’ve said in a calm voice that I wanted to go to my room. Well, guess what? One of my first signs of distress is an inability to communicate effectively.

On another occasion, the fellow client about whom the staff felt the need to communicate his “attention-seeking” in English, was having an outburst again. I told my one-on-one for the moment that I could see why, because he’d been left to his own resources, often locked in his room, for most of the day. My one-on-one told me he’d had more than enough attention, since he had been having a cup of coffee with the client and had created his day schedule. As if a fifteen-minute coffee chat means you can be left alone for the rest of the day.

Remember, I and my fellow clients have a developmental disability. Most of us cannot participate in everyday conversations among non-disabled people, so when the staff are chatting to each other, most of us will feel left out of the loop. And just because staff are in the same room with us, doesn’t mean they’re attending to our needs, as my example of the board game illustrates. At that point, I needed someone to pay attention to the subtle signs that I was going to land in a meltdown.

And like I said, attention is a normal human need. Staff aren’t telling each other that they’ve had more than enough attention because they’ve had a break (that usually lasts for 45 minutes, four times a day) together. In my opinion, honestly, they should.