My youngest daughter is working in a system that provides in- home care for people with disabilities. The system provides each disabled client with a home, job, social life and care givers who are on site to administer meds, help with driving, cooking and bill paying and to see that nothing seriously dangerous happens--like sunbathing when it is 104* outside.
My daughter has worked this type of job since 2007. She has worked in three different "provider" systems. Most group homes in Kansas were phased out years ago. The goal of the provider is to give each disabled adult a home and a job. It takes a huge amount of "care giving" workers to do this.
The job is a tough one and the turn over is big. My daughter should work two 17 hour shifts on the weekend and one six hour evening during the week. This schedule should allow her to pay up front for college hours and get one or two days of substitute teaching in when the school year starts. Instead she is going without sleep to fill in for workers who have burned out and don't show up.
This system she is working for now is head and shoulders above the other two. The workers are well trained. The houses are very nice, well landscaped and the clients (many but not all Downs Syndrome) are more capable of doing their own house work. Still it is like being a glorified house maid with the boss always at home. It is a minimum wage job with few qualifications and there are "behaviors." So workers burn out; some don't last a month.
Behaviors are incidents that showcase anger or hostility on the part of the client: cursing, hitting, spitting, smacking. I know that people like to think of DS as a sort of "human angelification" but behaviors are more common than we would like to think. Granted, not all clients have Downs but the ones who do, even the sweetest, can give in to anger and frustration especially in the privacy of their own home.
Who can blame the clients? I can't. It must be hell to have someone always over your shoulder, shoving meds down your throat for a health condition you can never hope to understand, second guessing your every move. If we can make life more manageable for only a small section of the disabled adults in care systems, why wouldn't we do it?