Letters to the Editor
The value/necessity of taking
care of all
In 2008, three Americans traveled
across Egypt. They visited city slums and rural towns, eating elaborate
meals and conversing with locals. On their way out of Egypt the travelers
stopped at a Bedouin village, the home of a tour guide who had taken
them up Mount Sinai. In the desert, near a town called St. Catherine’s, dozens
of men, women and children joyfully crowded the travelers’ taxi
where they were handing out vitamins, shoes and toys.
Just as their
gifts were running out, a Bedouin woman wrapped in black linen
across her face motioned one of the travelers toward her. She led
that traveler—who was I—past stone huts,
chickens and goats to a schoolyard, with a few books in the dirt.
There I saw a grown boy, obviously developmentally disabled, and
the woman pointed to his bare feet. I took the boy, stumbling and
covered in saliva, to the taxi to find him a pair of shoes, but by
that time none were left.
Even these villagers—in
one of the most primitive of communities—understand
the value and necessity of caring for their most vulnerable citizens,
even if society as a whole is struggling. A good society is measured
on how the disabled and other needy groups are prioritized. Minnesota
has been a shining example in the area of social services, but if
Gov. Tim Pawlenty cuts funding for the care of the disabled, thousands
of vulnerable people will experience a dramatic and dangerous diminishment
in the quality of their lives.
Governor Pawlenty’s
proposed cut to disability services is three percent, which is inline
with what was proposed in the now-rejected MN House of Representative’s
Health and Human Services Funding Bill. The governor, who is now
solely responsible for fixing the Budget, also wants to increase
licensing fees in this area.
Because of the recession,
every sector of society fears possible tax increases or budget cuts.
Many much needed programs will be negatively affected, not just in
social services, but the proposed cuts to disability programs does
not make sense. Why is this sector receiving the bulk of proposed
social services cuts? Why is there an inequality between nursing
home cuts—which
are zero—and disability cuts?
In order to adjust to a decrease
of $72 million in disabilities services, companies such as Phoenix
Residence, which has 18 homes, may have to cut worker hours and house
budgets. The implications of this are huge. As a support professional
with Phoenix, I believe Governor Pawlenty and those who are helping
him make budget decisions must understand the danger of doing this
to Minnesota’s most vulnerable
adults.
A cut in funding will eliminate
opportunities for Phoenix residents to learn life skills and achieve
personal development. These include counseling, learning to use electronic
speaking devices, and providing opportunities for residents to work
and find meaning in their lives.
When funding is cut, hours
are cut and staff is forced to do more with less time. There is no
time for teaching residents how to care for themselves with such
activities like hand-over-hand feeding or face washing. There is
no time to do daily stretching to prevent residents’ limbs from stiffening.
Safety and health measures such as frequent hand washing, checking
on residents, labeling food and cleaning houses will be neglected.
More errors in medication passing could occur also, especially in
houses that have over a dozen different medication times and residents
who take upwards of 32 different medications
Doctor appointments
get pushed back, because house budgets are too low to pay over time
to staff for staying at home and attending appointments with residents
during the day.
Wages in this sector are unequal
to the responsibilities of this job already, which weaken worker
morale to the detriment of the residents. Not being able to pick
up more hours only worsens this.
Finally, my ability to be
focused and gentle with my residents is strained. In a shift, I bath
two residents and feed and clean for a total of four. I can get through
two loads of laundry, fill a dishwasher and sweep a floor in a hurry,
but I cannot clean oozing sores on a man’s bottom without being
aware of him as a person—not
just as a task. I cannot undress a woman, lift her into a shower
and help her wash her hair and body without talking her through it.
More than “care-giver,” I am a guest in my residents’ homes
and a helper they need to rely on.
My residents may never go
without shoes, like the Egyptian boy I met last summer, but they
will go with less personalized care, untimely appointments, fewer
outings, and no life skills development if the budgets they depend
on are slashed. They cannot pull themselves up or work more to replace
cut funding. Their legislators and society must do that for them.
Tiffany Corrine Dow, St. Paul
