I Give In: Following My Heart to My New Care Home #31Days2022

Hi everyone. The optional prompt for day 2 in the 31-day writing challenge is “give”. Again, this is a bit of a freewrite as I prepare for the move to my new care home on Wednesday.

You see, when I originally moved to my current care home in 2019, it was the first place that wanted me. I also had some rather odd preconceived ideas about the kind of place I needed to be in to get my needs met. I thought that, in order to get a high staff/client ratio, you needed to be in a home for severely or profoundly intellectually disabled people. After all, places I’d known before in the psychiatric system, had a much lower staff/client ratio and so did so-called “supported housing” facilities for those with milder intellectual disabilities. (I did already know that I wanted to be in a place for people with intellectual disability rather than mental illness even though I’m not intellectually disabled, because the intellectual disability services approach is far less training-focused than that on the mentally ill.) At the back of my mind, I did know about a few homes on the care agency’s main institution grounds that catered towards those with mild or moderate intellectual disability with severe challenging behavior, but I couldn’t get the right “care profile” (on which your funding is based) for that. Not at the time, at least.

So I accepted the room at my current care home. It didn’t feel that good right from the start, but what else could I do? I was hardly getting by living with my husband. And, indeed, I don’t know what I’d have done had I had to survive lockdown while living independently. Unsuitable as this home may’ve been, it was a much-needed step on my journey.

Once I lived in my current care home, where all my fellow residents have profound intellectual disability, it became apparent pretty quickly that I needed more intensive behavior-related support than my care profile would allow for. I was first very scared when I heard that my support coordinator was applying for the highest care profile – the one I would’ve needed for the homes still at the back of my mind. After all, at first, my funding had been denied altogether. Not just the highest care profile – any long-term care funding. Were they going to re-assess me all over again? It turned out not: either I’d get the higher care profile or I’d remain in the lower category, but my funding couldn’t be taken away. Within a month, we heard the good news that my funding got upped to the highest care profile. Five months later, my additional one-on-one support got approved.

Still, I didn’t dare give in to my wish to move to one of the “intensive support” homes on main institution grounds. Not consciously, at least. When no-one was looking, I did look all over the care agency’s website to see the descriptions of their homes, all while saying I didn’t want to move.

In fact, at my care plan review last year, I said I was 95% sure I wanted to stay here and those other 5% were because of the distance to my husband. My husband said I needn’t worry, as it’s not like there are dozens of places for me to choose from. Then again, I don’t need dozens to choose from.

The home I’m moving to on Wednesday, is again the first home that wants me. However, it is also the home that stood out to me on those searches on the care agency website. It is most certainly not perfect – I know that before I’ve even moved in. However, I have my hopes up that I won’t regret having given in to following my heart.

Meh #SoCS

Hi all. Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS) is “me”. We’re supposed to either use the word as it is or find a word that starts with “me”. The first word that came to mind somehow was “meh”. And how fitting! I am sick to my stomach again. I will spare you the details but it’s not pleasant. And I’m supposed to write lots of things, as it’s the start of #31Days2022 and Blogtober and all. Oh well.

Last Tuesday when I was sick too, it lasted only a couple of hours, so I am hoping it will go away by the evening. That way, I could write a proper post once my one-on-one leaves at 8PM. That’s of course not the main reason I want my sickly feeling to go away. I mean, if I remain sick until Wednesday, will I be able to move that day?

Of course, I’m hoping I won’t give my sickness to anyone else either. I’m not running a temperature, thankfully. My husband thinks it’s food poisoning. My staff think it’s stress. I hope in any case it will leave my body soon (and not in the way it’s leaving my body now, honestly). Oh wait, that’s a bit TMI. Oh, see, writing it down either helps or it’s indeed getting better. Let’s hope.

TGIF: October

Hi all. It’s the last day of September (duh!) and I haven’t written enough posts this month. That is, if I want to aim for 300 posts in 2022, I’ll need to have written 225 now. I’m not sure that’s entirely true, since both October and December have 31 days and September has only 30, but oh well.

In any case, today’s optional theme for Paula’s TGIF is “October”. Paula asks us what our plans are for the month.

Of course, October’s main theme for me is moving to the main institution care home and settling in there. Today, I packed my first box. I also told all fellow residents I’m close to. The one in my own home at first hardly reacted, but now seems to understand to some degree. The woman in the care home down the road became a little emotional. I gave her a matching necklace and bracelet. The guy in the care home next to mine, the one with the chickens, reacted understandingly when I explained that the people in my new home are of a higher intellectual level. “So more like you and me?” he inquired. Yes, like that. I gave him the polymer clay sun, because he’s usually in a sunny mood. He gave me an egg he’d collected from one of his chickens this morning.

I already have two visits from my family planned in the first week of my stay at the new home. On October 8, my sister and her family will be coming by and my mother-in-law will visit me on October 11.

Besides settling into the new home, October will be a busy blogging month. I am participating in the 31-day writing challenge once again, although I won’t even attempt to do a landing page this time around. I usually just sign up for the prompts and to have some reason to blog everyday, even though I haven’t completed the challenge in years. There is of course also Blogtober, for which there are prompts this year too. I am not sure what I’ll do with those. All this to say, my cares about not having written enough during September, are really not all that important. Besides, no-one is going to come after me if I don’t write 300 posts in 2022.

Gratitude List (September 30, 2022) #TToT

Good morning everyone! I was up at 7AM today and am ready to blog. Today, I am writing a gratitude list. As usual, I’m joining in with Ten Things of Thankful (#TToT). Here goes.

1. I am grateful I was able to break the cycle of compulsive exercising before it got too bad. Last Saturday, I didn’t meet my exercise goal on my Apple Watch and, now that I didn’t have a perfect month anyway, I was able to let go of the need to meet all my goals everyday and just do what feels good.

2. I am grateful for my health. I’ve been having a sore throat for a week or so. It isn’t bad, just slightly annoying. In this regard, I am grateful I don’t have COVID. And yes, even though I don’t have any other symptoms, I took a test on Sunday just in case.

3. I am grateful for a comforting talk with the manager for my current care home. She was able to answer some of my more important questions about the new care home.

4. I am grateful my husband was content with the new care home and quite happy to see me move in there. In his own words, it is a “significant improvement” over my current care home.

5. I am grateful for muesli rolls. On Tuesday, we couldn’t find anything to eat for lunch that I like, so my staff offered to drive to the supermarket. I chose muesli rolls, which aren’t what I usually have. I am grateful my staff felt that these were within reason so the care facility would pay for them.

6. I am grateful for blueberries. On the same trip to the supermarket, we bought blueberries too. They were still reasonably priced even though I think blueberry season is over here.

7. I am grateful for the support of my staff as I navigate the stress of transferring to the new care home. I still had some worries on Wednesday and even on Thursday after I’d made my decision, but my staff are able to support me through them. So is the behavior specialist.

8. I am grateful my sister reacted positively to me moving to the main institution. She, in fact, said she will now be able to visit more often, as the main institution is close to Apeldoorn, where her in-laws live. She enthusiastically planned a first visit for October 8, the Saturday after I move in.

9. I am grateful for a somewhat relaxed text convo with my mother. I informed her that I’m moving, to which surprisingly she reacted pretty supportively. She did put in a few comments about the possibility that I could learn to walk around grounds on my own (which I might at some point, but it isn’t a given) and that I could help prepare food, but oh well. Both of these comments wouldn’t have bothered me had they not come from her, actually.

10. I am grateful for some weight loss when I stepped onto the scales today. I lost 0.3kg compared to last week, which is pretty much what I’d expected.

What are you grateful for?

Joy in September

Hi everyone. How is it the end of September already? I pretty much forgot the month is almost over, but since it is, it’s time for me to write an update on my word of the year: “JOY”. I am linking up with Lisa’s One Word linky. I am also joining the Word of the Year linky.

September started out with good news, as, on the very first day of the month, I heard that I was first on the waiting list for what I now refer to as the prospective new care home. This gave me some renewed energy, but also stress. I was warned that the wait might still be six months or so. “That’s super quick,” my husband said. Well, those who’ve read my blog over the past couple of weeks, know that it’s gone even quicker: tomorrow, I am to decide whether I want to move to the home and, if I want to (which I do), I’ll move next Wednesday, October 5.

Considering this, the whole month of September flew by in a bit of a haze, in which I was both hyper with excitement and overwhelmed with worry. I am still both as I type this post, in fact. Consequently, I hardly found any clear moments of joy that were just that. After all, things I did feel delight or joy over, were also laden with some level of anxiety or anticipation. For example, at my husband’s and my visit to Ikea, I was thinking about what to buy for the new home.

The month of September, of course, was also the month my iPhone and Apple Watch got their updates and I got really used to my Apple Watch. For the first few weeks of the month, I was compulsively moving to get far beyond my activity goals. This past Friday, my dietitian did caution me against it. The next day, with some emotional struggle, I let a day go by when I didn’t fill all my rings. That seems to have broken the cycle, as I’m now able to be a bit easier on myself. For example, yesterday I was sick to my stomach all day, so really didn’t feel like exercising. I am relieved I am able to permit myself these days now too.

For the month of October, I am of course looking forward to enjoying real food, as the staff at the new home cook homemade meals everyday there. I am also hoping to enjoy visits from family, as I have a few planned already for the first week at my new home. Other than that, I am expecting to have a lot of getting used to at the new home, so I’m just hoping to enjoy some everyday pleasures.

My New Home? #SoCS

SoCS Badge 2019-2020

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS) is “home”. How timely! As those who’ve read my blog over the past week or so will know, I may move to another care home in a week and a half. The choice is up to me.

It is indeed the first home that wants me, like when I applied for long-term care and landed here. Well, no, in that sense it isn’t the first. My current care home isn’t kicking me out, after all. If I don’t want to move to the prospective new home, if I don’t think it’ll feel like home to me eventually, I don’t need to.

It feels liberating to be able to make this choice. I have been able to ask quite critical questions, some of which were answered already and some of which I’m waiting on being answered soon. For one thing, I want to know about the staff/client ratio. This is important should my one-on-one ever be reduced, but also for those times when I don’t have one-on-one support. The support coordinator told me there are three staff each shift, but I’m not sure that’s just for my group of eight or for the entire home, consisting of two of these groups. I so far only saw my group’s home and that’s quite large already, so if the three staff are for the two groups of eight, that’s going to be quite difficult for me.

Other questions have been of lesser importance, such as whether they serve decaf coffee or the regular kind, whether we need to pay for treats such as chips on weekends, etc. I feel quite satisfied with most answers and am pretty positive I’m going to make the move. With my visit on Monday in addition to last Wednesday’s, I should be able to make an informed decision about whether this will be my new home.

What Will I Leave Behind?

If
Or should I say “when”
I move to the new care home,
What will I leave behind?

I’ve been pondering my legacy should I leave for the prospective new care home in less than two weeks. I’ve been thinking of gifting every staff member and a few of the residents who I’m close to and who will remember, something out of my collection of handcrafted sculptures and jewelry. The polymer clay dolphin will go to the one resident in my home I can talk with, because he always carries a stuffed dolphin with him. He may or may not fully understand what it means that I’ll leave (since I’m not sure he’s ever witnessed a fellow client move out), and in any case it’ll likely make him sad. I’ve already decided to appease him with French fries the weekend before the planned moving date. This man has his 50th birthday next year, and I’ve already told several staff I’m going to come back to celebrate it with him.

One of my regular one-on-one staff is getting a matching blue bracelet and necklace that she’s told me countless times would complete a great beach outfit. I had thought of giving it to her for her 50th birthday last March, but decided against that eventually.

Then, besides the physical gifts I’ll leave behind, there’s of course the memories. I wonder sometimes whether some clients will secretly be glad that I’ll have left, as my challenging behavior could come across quite threatening to them. I wonder whether the staff will be happy I’m gone, as then they can house a client with severe/profound intellectual disability here. Then again, we still have another empty room now too.

In all honesty, I have no idea what people will think of me if I do move. Is out of sight, actually out of mind? With my psych hospital staff, it pretty much was, as they didn’t even say goodbye when I was discharged. Then again, this staff, particularly those I’ve known from the beginning, are different. At least I hope so.


This post was written for Reena’s Xploration Challenge. It is a one-word prompt this week: “legacy”.

Moving to the Care Facility Soon!

As regular readers of this blog know, I’ve been planning on moving into long-term care for nearly a year. That is, that’s how long it’s taken me to decide I for sure want to apply for long-term care funding, to apply for it, to appeal the decision denying me the funding, to win the appeal and then to find a place. Honestly, this whole journey has been going on much longer. Twelve years ago this month, I told my support coordinator in Nijmegen that I wanted to get into one of their living facilities for people with mobility impairments. Due to my psychiatric hospitalization, this idea got trashed and we ended up looking for places for people with mental illness or “high-functioning” autism. That took many years and was unsuccessful in the end. I got kicked out of the mental hospital in May of 2017 for supposedly wanting to remain institutionalized forever. Well, the psychologist was right in that I feel I need 24-hour care for the rest of my life, but I most definitely didn’t intend on staying in the psychiatric hospital forever. I’d much rather go into a facility for people with developmental disabilities. Thankfully all this time of battling the system that says that an IQ above 85 means you should be pushed towards independence forever, ultimately paid off. I will be moving to the care facility in Raalte on September 23.

The house I will be placed in, has room for twelve residents, divided between two groups of six. There’s always at least two staff in the house during the time the residents are home and awake. During the time we’re supposed to be at the day center, there’s an on-call staff for the entire living facility, but of course there’s staff at the day center. During the night, there’s a sleeping staff at my house, but there’s also a staff who is awake and serves the entire facility.

I will get a room with its own bathroom. This room is a bit further down the hall than the other currently available room, but that room has a shared bathroom. At first, I said I didn’t mind, but the staff warned me that the other clients don’t clean up after themselves. I will get a call button to alert a staff member, so if I can’t get out of the rooom for whatever reason, I can still call the staff if they don’t hear me shouting.

On Thursday, the staff will be discussing what day center group I’ll be placed in. The day center manager did say, after I asked it, that my elliptical can be placed there. They have day activities Monday through Thursday and on alternating Fridays.

They will make sure they have an extra staf available on the 23rd when I move in. They asked my day center’s coordinator whether either she or my support coordinator can come the next day for proper handover.

After a month, we will have a review of how things are going. They made it clear that this is not for the staff to decide I need to be moved out again, but for us to discuss ways the staff could possibly better accommodate me.

I am very excited to go to Raalte! My husband may ask for time off work to move me, especially since this week is also the week we’ll meet with the solicitor for property handover on the house we’re buying. It all is a bit stressful still, but I”m so glad I’ll finally find a place that’s not for independence training or treatment or the like. Finally, I’ll be able to stop merely surviving and start living.

A Time I Ignored My Intuition: Moving Institutions

I haven’t written at all this past week. It was an eventful week, but I feel reluctant to disclose details. I have also been feeling uninspired to write about anything that isn’t just a diary-style entry starting with the phrase “Today I did…”. Well, that’s not what feels right to me.

I was talking to my assigned day activities staff this afternoon. We were casually discussing places I’d lived in before and I mentioned having moved from one institution to another to be closer to my husband in 2013. That was a big mistake.

The memory came back again when I read a journaling prompt in one of my many collections of prompts. It asked me to reflect on a time I had ignored my gut feeling or intuition. This was a time I did. Let me share.

In late 2012, my husband and I had accepted a rental home in a town near Arnhem, Netherlands. I was at the time living in an institution in Nijmegen, about 30km away. There was a lot of turmoil going on about the unit I resided on. For example, there was talk of us moving to another building. We’d just moved from an old building to a newly-built one in September of 2012 and I didn’t like yet another move. Unless it was closer to my husband. So even when the plan for yet another move was canceled sometime in April or May of 2013, I still said I wanted to move to the other institution, which was in the town next to the town in which we’d rented our home.

I had an intake interview in June of 2013. The psychologist was quite mental if you ask me. I’d come from a unit with 24-hour care and he was expecting me to move into a house with a few other patients and staff dropping in once or twice a day. Well, no way! He said that’d be better preparation for my moving in with my husband than going to another unit with 24-hour care and the in-between unit was full. He gave me the choice though, but I had to be quick. It was Thursday and I was expected to move before the week-end, because if I waited till Monday, the bed on the 24-hour care unit may have been filled already.

I felt rather off, but I reasoned my feelings away. I wanted to be closer to my husband, after all, and I wanted to ultimately live with him. Or so I thought. So I moved the next day.

Let me explain that my staff at the ward in Nijmegen had been as supportive as psychiatric care staff can be. I mean, they were sure I needed a lot of support at least. They had denied me the opportunity to go into a housing unit for people with visual and intellectual impairments in 2011, but it takes a lot for a psychiatric professional to go beyond their expertise and see that a person might be best served in developmental disability services even if they have a high IQ.

The staff in the new institution were not so supportive. Even though they allowed me to stay there for nearly four years eventually, they were adamant that I go live with my husband and eventually kicked me out with almost no after care, reasoning that I had refused to go into any home with more care they’d offered. Which, frankly, was none.

Now, nearly two years into living with my husband, I”m facing the pain. I’m still feeling angry towards the staff at the last institution and regret that I decided to move. From now on, I’ll twust my gut feeling when something doesn’t sit right with me.