Day Four

Posted on by Astrid

Today is day four in my new care home. On day four in the home I moved to last year, I was forcefully “helped” (more like dragged) to my room, left alone for most of the shift and expected to almost completely independently walk around the home because “the more independent you become, the less bothered you’ll feel by us [= staff]”.

By contrast, today, I made my first simple polymer clay creation, a planet charm. I tried my hand at polymer clay at the old care home for the first time after two weeks, but it was discontinued because it took too much time. Then I couldn’t work with polymer clay again until my day schedule was created in December. In other words, I did something today I couldn’t do at my old care home until significant improvements were made.

Should I compare my current experience to the improved experience at my old care home? No, I don’t think so. After all, I’m still adjusting here, something I never did there. Chances are things will improve here too as I learn to adapt or my staff adapt to me or both. I hope so.

Because, to be honest, it’s better than my early days at the old care home, but I’m still struggling significantly. For one thing, my one-on-one, despite what the behavior specialist responsible for my old care home had said, did get cut. It started today and this meant I had to spend a significant amount of the day either in the living room or alone in my room. I am giving it a serious chance of working out, but it’s really hard. Hopefully, I will be able to acknowledge when I turn out to be capable of handling more than I expected and the staff will be able to accommodate me should I not be able to.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (September 16, 2023)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare today. I just had my afternoon coffee, but will probably not finish this post in one go, as I have an activity moment again in half an hour. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. We’ve had pretty nice late summer weather here with temps rising to between 20°C and 25°C during the day. Next week, we’re supposed to get rain and then I’m pretty sure it’s over with the warm weather, although October can occasionally bring days when the temperature reaches 20°C too. I love telling tales of the day, about five or six years ago, when we had a daytime high of 27°C here in mid-October.

If we were having coffee, then I’d talk about my walking and other exercise. I went swimming on Wednesday. It’ll probably have been the last time for now, as I’m moving to the new care home on Monday, although the swimming instructor did say my new home’s clients go swimming too.

I went on the stationary bike yesterday. Other than that, my physical activity has been hit and miss. Some days, I got in over 10K steps, while on other days, I hardly walked at all.

If we were having coffee, I would however share that, on one of my walks, last Tuesday, I visited the institution petting zoo and took some lovely pictures. The first picture shows the petting zoo’s cat, Macho, on a stack of hay.

There also is a large aviary with parakeets in it. Here are two photos of the birds in their cage.


If we were having coffee, finally I’d tell you all about my visit to my new care home. I went there with a staff and my mother-in-law. Since this staff has been pushing me towards independence more than I can handle lately and since she’ll be doing handover too, I was disappointed that she’d be attending the visit too. After all, that’d mean I wouldn’t be able to talk to my new staff about my needs without her overhearing.

When we got to the home, we were greeted by the man who will be my new assigned staff, same one who’d been talking to my mother-in-law about the color paint on my wall. I had thought he’d be my support coordinator but apparently not. I don’t know who my support coordinator will be yet. Not a problem, since in general you have more day-to-day contact with your assigned staff than your support coordinator. When still outside, I heard a loud singing of “Happy Birthday!”. This turned out to come from the neighboring home though, as no-one had a birthday this day.

We were led into the living room, where a number of residents and another staff were having coffee. I initially thought there were two staff, since one of the residents talked in an almost identical voice and said almost the same things as the staff. This turned out to be echolalia though.

The residents in this home are more significantly intellectually disabled than those at my current home. Most can speak a little though. Like, one told me I had a pretty golden ring. When I told my spouse about this, I was reminded of my preference last year for a home with people with mild intellectual disability. Yeah, I replied, but I didn’t know back then what I had to give up to live with people with whom I can have a conversation.

Overall, the staff seemed much nicer than those at my current care home. For one thing, both staff introduced themselves, while back when I went to look around here last year only the staff who would be giving me the tour told me their name.

I was led to my room, which is the closest to the living room. This has disadvantages, in that I may be able to hear living room sounds more, but it has a huge advantage in that I will be able to find it much more easily than my current room. The wall is a nice baby pink according to my mother-in-law. I wasn’t able to get a real impression of my room without my furniture in it yet, but that’s not a problem.

When shown around, I did make it clear what my needs are re help with my activities of daily living and that I’m not ready to grow yet, since that will take me being stable first. The staff who was with me didn’t comment, thankfully. Overall, I feel less stressed about moving to the new home now that I’ve met my new fellow residents and staff.

I have yet to pack my clothes. Other than that, everything is in boxes now and ready to be moved. I’m ready for a new chapter in my life!

My (Second) Favorite September Memory

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I want to write, but honestly don’t feel like sharing about all the stressors of the last few days in my current care home. Instead, I decided to draw inspiration from Marsha’s 10 on the 10th post again and share one of my favorite September memories. My favorite of all time is of course my wedding date in 2011, but I’ve written tons of posts about that already I believe. So I’m going to share about my other favorite memory. This is only a favorite memory in hindsight, as it was intensely stressful back then. I refer, of course, to my moving into the care facility in Raalte on September 23, 2019.

I arrived in Raalte at around 1PM, which was a bit earlier than I’d agreed on I believe, but the staff who would be showing me round had just arrived. She showed me my room and let my spouse move my furniture into it. I remember we had some discussions about things that had to be agreed upon. My spouse clearly stated that I couldn’t manage my own meds, as I’d taken two med overdoses when living in our house. The staff had been kind enough to mark the door handles of my room and the living room with tape, so that I could recognize them by touch when wall-trailing.

I also got a short tour of the day center, that is, the group I’d be attending. I remember they had a hand-made banner with “Welcome, Astrid!” on it. The guy who came here in crisis last November also got a welcome banner, but I got nothing when I got here.

In the evening, when the other clients got home from the day center, we had dinner. After that, one of the staff said she was going for a walk with one of my fellow clients. I was tempted to ask whether I could join them, but can’t remember whether I did.

I remember feeling quite a bit in shock when first coming to this care home. I asked my spouse: “You don’t think it’s all stupid, do you?” I referred to the fact that the other residents were severely intellectually disabled. Maybe I’d also noticed the poo smell. This was one of the first things my spouse asked me about when I went to have a look around my current care home. Truthfully though, I don’t care about poo smell if I get proper care.

I Am My First Priority: Intentions for Focusing on My Quality of Life

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I paged through The Goddess Journaling Workbook again yesterday and saw the first prompt: “I am my first priority”. Okay, I did write about it already back in 2020, but I think I need to revisit it and set intentions for putting myself first. I know, we are often taught, especially in more conservative circles, that we need to put others first (or after Jesus, but ourselves last, in any case). Then some more leftist folks teach us about self-love as if it’s about essential oils and vegan smoothies. Which it could be, but this is not what I mean. Rather, self-love means being true to our own values over those imposed upon us by others. And that doesn’t need to be selfish.

Now of course I need to determine my values. I’ll narrow those down to what my major point is for being in care, ie. my main goal. This is quality of life. This may be obvious to most people who aren’t involved in the care system and it should be obvious to those who are too, but for many, the presumption of competence or the need to manage daily crisis behavior clouds their vision towards quality of life. In fact, I’ve even seen one care agency state that their aim is to “maintain and where possible promote” quality of life in their clients. Well, this is wording I’d expect to go with “independence”, not “quality of life”, since truthfully, quality of life can always be promoted.

So what does quality of life mean to me? It means that I decide what I spend my limited energy on. This doesn’t mean lazing around all day doing nothing and it doesn’t mean I won’t ever improve on my ADLs at all either. What it means is that I take the lead, focusing on my daily level of energy. I told one of my staff the other day that I would prefer if she doesn’t tell me to do something independently, but rather invites me by asking me whether I want to do it independently. In that case, she’s much more likely to get me to actually do it, as I don’t feel the pressure of her expectation, because I can say “No” if I don’t have the energy at that point.

It also means that I decide what activities to do during my allocated activity time. In my current care home, I have been sometimes not even consciously adapting to staff’s preferences for activities way more than I feel comfortable with. For instance, I’ve been taken on grocery shopping trips for the staff’s personal needs under the guise of an activity more than a few times. I eventually put a halt to that, saying I would only go if I too needed something from the supermarket. Another, even more frequent, example is my playing endless card or dice games because I’m assigned a new temp worker who comes across like they’re just here to pass the time. Yesterday, I was assigned one of those and had had it with dice and card games, so I thought, screw it, we’re making a smoothie. It turned out absolutely delicious!

It also means being intentional with my unsupported times. This means rather than mindless scrolling, doing actual reading, watching or listening online. I fully intend on blogging or at least journaling more often. If I can stop caring about my stats, maybe I can post here more often based on self-help journaling prompts. I didn’t collect those books for nothing, after all.

It means being constructive in my relations to my staff. It means being honest about my needs. For example, if a staff member (usually a new temp worker) causes me emotional flashbacks with something they do or say, rather than just telling them I feel in distress, I will hopefully be able to ask for a more trusted staff to intervene for a few minutes (which isn’t the same as demanding I be supported by all trusted staff).

Finally, I will also be constructive in contributing to my crisis signaling plan once it is revised at the new care home. My plan dates back to sometime in 2021 I believe and was immediately thrown out by my former support coordinator here because “it doesn’t work at this home”. What “works” here, however, doesn’t work for me, but that doesn’t mean my plan will be fully useable at my new care home. I will try to understand the staff’s perspective when updating the plan, but will still put myself first.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (September 2, 2023)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone on this first Saturday of September. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare, even though it’s waaay too late for me to have coffee. That is, I don’t usually feel the energizing effects that strongly, but I am sure the staff won’t let me have a cup of coffee anymore. Or anything to drink except for water, truthfully. So let’s have a glass of water and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee (or a glass of water, but I always start my paragraphs like this and even my saying that is a cliché), first I’d share about the weather. We’ve had rain, clouds, some sunshine and daytime temperatures usually around 20°C. Today, the daytime high was 23°C and next week, we might even get temperatures as high as 28°C.

If we were having coffee, next I’d tell you about my movement. I haven’t been exercising as much this past week as I did last week and today I saw in my trends in the fitness app that my exercise has decreased. Of course it has, you’d say, if I haven’t been exercising as much this week as last week, but the trends compare the past 90 days to the past 365 days. I try not to care, even though I did sign up for a month-long challenge in the Challenges app for September.

Yesterday, when on a walk with my assigned staff, we compared data, since she also has an Apple Watch. I’m glad my cardio fitness level wasn’t much lower than hers. I mean, I would’ve felt bad for her if both of ours were low, but mine is in the below-average range.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that, on Thursday, my assigned staff and I went out to have lunch together. She’s off on vacation for the rest of September and I’ll (most likely) move this month, so we won’t see each other again. We both had a large salad, mine one with chicken, of course. We both also had a heavenly caramel coffee.

Today, I decided to gift my assigned staff the blue polymer clay unicorn with Hotfix rhinestones on it. I remember creating my very first unicorn here at the institution with her. I originally hadn’t intended on giving my polymer clay creations away, like I had done when moving out of the care home in Raalte, but then again if I take them with me to the new care home they will probably break during transport. I’ve seen a little too many staff come and go here to have a piece for everyone, but I have something for the ones I see most often.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I’ve been collecting books of journaling prompts once again. Amazon.nl now allows customers to pay for Kindle books with their bank account, for which I’m extremely grateful. Until last Monday, you could only pay for digital products with a credit card, which I don’t have, so I only downloaded free Kindle books. Now you still need a credit card for other digital products, but eBooks are an exception. And, of course, the first book I bought was a collection of journaling prompts. I also bought a collection of essential oil diffuser recipes. Each book cost under €3. I do need to make sure I won’t spend my money compulsively, as a search for “journaling prompts” in the Kindle store returns over 3,000 books. Then again, a lot are free at one point. For this reason, I acquired three new books of journaling prompts over the past few days, only one of which I paid for.

Lastly, if we were having coffee, I’d ask you all to cheer on my oldest niece as she starts school on Monday. She will be four on the 10th. I need to pop into the toy store tomorrow to buy her a present, as ordering something online won’t get it here on time for me to send it on to her.

How have you been?

Opening Up About My Trauma

Posted on by Astrid

Last Monday, I was going for a walk with my one-on-one for the moment when we saw a few clients and staff she knew (she’s a temp worker). She wanted to “say a quick hi”. That turned into a fifteen-minute conversation between her and one of the other staff, which eventually turned to clients with severe challenging behavior being taken on outings off grounds and then, when they act out, staff being filmed by bystanders when restraining the client. This discussion triggered me, because it led to flashbacks of the times I’ve been “guided” (as staff call it) to my room. More like physically moved by several staff at a time, and the fact that I wasn’t officially restrained (because that probably only counts when you’re pinned down to the ground), is solely due to my lack of physical strength.

I asked the staff, admittedly more curtly than I should have, to not have these discussions in my presence in the future, as it was triggering me. She told me I was making it all about me and if I wanted to offer an opinion I should’ve made sure I listened to the whole thing because now I was twisting the truth. I told her about the time I was shoved to my room and staff threatened to lock me up in there. “You probably deserved it,” was her response.

This led to a whole chain reaction of triggers, in which I started to doubt the validity of my trauma-related symptoms. Didn’t I deserve the harsh punishments my parents gave me? I know at least back in my day an “educational spanking” was legal. In some U.S. states, child abuse isn’t even child abuse if it’s used as punishment.

I can’t go into the details of the punishments I endured as a child, and I’m pretty sure they’re not necessarily illegal. Does that mean they can’t have caused me PTSD?

That evening though, I was having intense flashbacks and decided to open up to my staff for that moment. She happened to be one of the staff who’d shoved me to my room on Friday and threatened to lock me in there. I had to admit – even though I don’t believe it – that I deserved to be physically moved to my room. I mean, the reason was my dropping the F-bomb while in the communal room (and then refusing to go to my room on my own when told to), which, well, truthfully staff do all the time.

After I’d given examples of the way my parents treated me, my staff seemed quite shocked. I honestly don’t understand this, as she restrains clients everyday and never even cares about the impact this has on them. I mean, I know, staff restraining clients is legal, but then again does something have to be illegal to be traumatic? And if so, where’s the boundary between an “educational spanking” and child abuse? Or does it have to be unwarranted? In that case, I must say, my parents acted out of a need to show who’s boss because they’d felt powerless over my behavior. I did, indeed, try to excuse my parents’ actions by explaining about my own behavior. The staff didn’t seem impressed.

I know, in my heart, that the truth is that restraints can and do traumatize clients too. I know I experienced trauma while in the psychiatric hospital because of being locked up in seclusion against my will. I know I still experience emotional trauma. And, of course, I’m more sensitive to this due to the trauma I endured as a child. But it isn’t black-or-white. And this is confusing.

Decisions Made for Me

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all. I’m joining Denyse’s #WWandPics once again. This week, she talks about the letter D words that relate to her, among which “decisions”. I wanted to write about decisions too, but this time, about the reality of decisions being made for you. This may not happen to non-disabled adults much, but it happens to me all the time.

Like with my upcoming move. I know next to nothing about my future care home and, when I told my assigned staff that this frustrates me, she pointed out that I’ll move there anyway so how would giving me more info help?

Honestly, I wish I were given some way to have any level of input into the process. I know the reason the powers-that-be have decided to give me no choice is probably because they feel I’m too critical anyway. They believe I’m looking for the perfect home, which they and I know doesn’t exist given my rather complicated care needs.

They always tell me that I wanted to leave the care facility in Raalte, which was near-perfect compared to my current one. I did, in a way. That is, I wanted to have a discussion with the behavior specialist to explore the possibility of me finding another care home. That’s not the same. And they were the ones not being up front with me about all the things I’d lose if I wanted to live on institution grounds and have fellow clients with whom I could speak. They may’ve technically allowed me to make the decision to move here, but they gave me the bare minimum amount of information to make that decision.

Now they’re not letting me make a decision at all. It makes me feel intensely powerless and that’s a really distressing feeling. And who will be in trouble if my behavior doesn’t improve? Yup, me. Some staff have come to call me spoiled, in fact, so the burden is on me to show them I can handle whatever this new home has to offer. If I can’t, well, too bad, then I either have to learn to live with the decisions made for me or find myself another way to cope.

Colors, Changes and Connections

Posted on by Astrid

Today, I am joining Denyse’s #WWandPics link-up. Denyse apparently has been sharing posts following an alphabetical theme. Today, she talks about the letter C. I could do this alphabet thing too, but then I’d have to start at A. Instead, I’m taking inspiration from her “C” words to write my post.

Denyse’s first “C” word is “change”. Of course, things are changing in my world too, though I’m not yet sure when. I got informed last Saturday that my new care home will keep my current day schedule for now. That’s in spite of the fact that it apparently indeed does cover two hours more care a day than I get funding for. I still don’t fully understand the technicalities, but I don’t really care, as the number of support hours I get according to my day schedule was never the problem. It was how cut up into at most 60-minute activity blocks it is. It’s okay though. Better than the alternative my staff have been suggesting, saying I need to find a way to cut back on those two hours and go down to 30-minute activity blocks.

I asked my support coordinator about having a care plan review. We haven’t had one in nearly two years due to my moving to my current home right when my last review was due. My support coordinator is going to get the new one to schedule a review once I’m settled there and he will attend too.

He also finally sent my mother-in-law an activation code to access the daily reports on me and my care plan. As far as my mother-in-law is concerned, they mostly report really superficially. For those who are wondering, back several years ago it was agreed upon that I wouldn’t get access because it might cause distress, but I did want someone in my family to have access especially now that I’m struggling significantly. Most daily reports apparently go something along the lines of “mostly had a good day, slightly stressed over ___”. I don’t know whether it’s deliberate, but that’s certainly downplaying my distress.

The support coordinator for the new home did ask my current support coordinator to confirm what color paint I want on my wall, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure I already told him through my mother-in-law. It will be pink, since lilac wasn’t available. Truthfully, all other colors except maybe blue sounded awfully ugly to me. And yes, despite being blind, I do have some concept of color from when I could still see a little.

Through all this change, I am happy about my online connections. I have multiple disabilities, so am in Facebook groups for various conditions. I am also in a few Facebook groups for former preemies or NICU babies in general. The Dutch one is organizing a get-together in September. I sent the organizer an E-mail to sign up, then decided to ask some further questions in the Facebook group. As far as I’m aware, the get-together will be held in a café-style meeting room, so I’ll most likely be able to get the ParaTransit taxi driver to get me right to where I need to be. On the one hand, I’m reminding myself that I used to attend the DID charity meetups independently each month from 2011 till 2013 and even rode the train there by myself. On the other hand, it’s 2023, not 2013 and I’ve probably declined cognitively at least a little. Then again, if I don’t try, I’ll never know if I can do this. I would really love to connect to other NICU survivors, as honestly I’m beginning to realize I might not be alone in experiencing significant attachment issues and they might in fact have started this early on.

Can’t Wait to Leave

Posted on by Astrid

Today’s prompt for Five Minute Friday is “leave”. I am pretty sure this or a similar prompt came up before when I was in the process of finding what turned out to be my current care home. Maybe not on Five Minute Friday but on Stream of Consciousness Saturday or the like. Well, now that it came up on FMF, even though I’m not an actual Christian like most of the participants, I thought I’d join in. So, here goes.

I can’t wait to leave this nightmare of a care home. Today, a fellow client was being severely out of control right in front of my room and my would-be one-on-one had to leave me to attend to him because her colleague was alone attending to “the group” (ie. everyone except another one-on-one client). I felt it was unfair, because that other client’s one-on-one is non-negotiable, while my staff keep claiming I need to cut back on my hours. Well, I could not do any activity at all with how long it took the staff to attend to this other client and then bluntly tell me, once melting down, to calm down, etc.

I can’t wait to leave this nightmare of unclear and mostly very harsh treatment that I receive here. I mean, I’m not aggressive, but I get treated like I am.

I am hoping to find out when I’ll be moving to my new care home real soon.

I sometimes feel left alone on this journey. I try to turn to God, even though I no longer subscribe to traditional Christian beliefs. I really do hope that, even if (which I’m pretty sure is a “when”) I’m left all alone in this world, there’s someone out there who cares.

Hello Monday (August 7, 2023)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone on this first Monday of August. How are you all? Let me share about my weekend. I’m also sneaking in a bit about today, because I don’t think I can devote a separate blog post to the topic and it needs talking about anyway. I am joining in with Hello Monday.

Saturday started out pretty good. My assigned staff came to do my one-on-one for the morning. My schedule did get somewhat distorted because she came up with the idea of us clearing out my wardrobe. I didn’t mind at first, but I didn’t realize until it was too late how overloading this was.

Then eventually, after having had a shower, getting dressed and having had breakfast, I realized I’d forgotten the steroid cream I’d been prescribed for my eczema. I asked my assigned staff to help me apply it. “I’ll show you how, then you can do it yourself,” she said. Fair enough, you might say, but by this time I was well and truly overloaded. I sighed, to which my assigned staff made a comment about me being a “big girl” and that I could stomp my feet all I wanted (I didn’t). Once she got down to showing me how to apply the cream, she kind of curtly told me to relax my hand (which, well, having mild cerebral palsy, I simply can’t), then asked why I can’t. I got quite thick layers of cream on some parts of my skin and nothing on others, but in the end it didn’t matter, as the cream she’d grabbed was the oily lanette cream rather than the steroid. I do understand my staff meant well, in the sense that she’s trying to encourage independence. However, I often don’t realize how overwhelmed I am until it’s too late and at that point, any further demands will lead to me shutting or melting down.

Saturday evening was pretty good. We had home-cooked macaroni for dinner, which I loved! I actually was allowed a second helping.

On Sunday morning, my one-on-one arrived 25 minutes late, claiming it was only 15 minutes and that it just was what it was and deal with it. Then at lunchtime, she wouldn’t leave my room after I’d finished my drink (I wasn’t eating because I’d be having lunch out with my spouse), claiming she was making up for the time she’d been late in the morning. Well, it isn’t just sitting in my room that helps me. If she could’ve taken that time to help me with an activity that needed doing rather than just “chilling”, that would’ve been appreciated, but she couldn’t.

Thankfully, my spouse arrived around 1PM. We drove to Apeldoorn once again and, after a stroll around the city, decided to have lunch at Backwerk once again. I had the same old chicken barbecue baguette. Hema was closed, so we just had a drive around, then stopped by Aldi in the town next to where my institution is (I’m pretty sure those who live in the Netherlands know which town I’m referring to, if I haven’t shared it already). I wanted to get some nuts and Tuc (a kind of salty biscuit), which my dietitian allows me to snack on later in the evening. My spouse also got apricots, so I also bought those. And of course the perpetual Kinder Bueno. Then my spouse drove me back to the institution.

Once there, it turned out one of the staff had car trouble, so didn’t arrive till 4:30PM. Of course, it was my one-on-one that got cut. One of the other staff made it sound as though they were buying us French fries and a snack to make up for it, which I considered rather lame. Then after we’d finished our fries at 4:50, the staff informed me bluntly that my day schedule would be followed from there on, so I would have one-on-one again at 6PM. I felt this was ridiculous, but had no choice, as the staff were using stupid emotional reasoning to get me to agree with them.

In the evening, I did show my one-on-one how to make beads out of polymer clay.

Now on to my cheating by sharing a bit about today: this morning, my support coordinator informed me that he was going to attend the team meeting for my new care home to answer some questions about me, but that he thought I could answer those questions perfectly well myself. I agreed and went with him. Some of the questions made me feel a little uncomfortable.

The first question I got, in fact, referred to my drinking excessive water. That happened exactly once and was an impulsive act. I decided to broaden the topic and explain about my preference for how staff deal with my impulsive or self-harm tendencies, ie. by not giving more attention than needed to the behavior but to stay supportive of my emotional needs. I did forget to mention that wounds do need to be checked, something that doesn’t always happen here.

Overall, I mostly felt validated, in the sense that at least the team didn’t respond negatively to my comments. I did find it hard to walk the fine line between being too bluntly honest about my needs and delivering a sales pitch of myself. I hope I did okay though.