News

The care worker
Sylvia Johnson, 49, looked after disabled people in their own homes for seven years for North Tyneside Council. She was forced to retire four years ago because of chronic back problems, which she believes were brought about by her work. She says: "I was working mostly with wheelchair-bound people - usually sufferers from multiple sclerosis or arthritis. I loved it, it was really satisfying work. It involved doing everything, getting people up, bathing them, dressing them, getting meals, and taking them out shopping. So you'd lift them into your car, and lift their wheelchair into the boot. I feel that's what did a lot of the damage, because you are not lifting things close to your body.


"When I started doing the job my back was fine. The problem built up until I was getting up at 4am for work at 7.30 because it took me two hours just to get moving in the morning. One day I'd taken an elderly lady shopping, and I was carrying all her shopping up to her third floor flat, hauling myself up the stairs by the hand rail. It just dawned on me that I was in a worse state than she was. So I went to the GP, who sent me to see a hospital consultant.

"He looked at my x-rays and said he couldn't see how I was even walking. All my discs were fused at the top and the bottom of my spine. They tried a lumbar epidural [a painkiller injected into the spine] which made me feel like Wonder Woman for two weeks, and then it wore off. Then I had a plaster cast from under my boobs to the top of my legs for four months. The idea was to straighten me out. But when it came off it hadn't worked.

"Now I live on painkillers. Everything has to be at waist level or above - I'm sowing seeds for the garden at the moment, and my husband has to put the soil on the chair so I can reach it. I can manage the upright hoover, but it stays at the bottom of the stairs until he moves it for me.

"I don't feel bitter about it, not now. And in the beginning I expected to get better - never in a million years did I think I'd end up like this.

"One chap was 16 stone, and he'd sit on a plastic sling with handles, and two of us would have one handle each, and we'd lower him into the bath. I didn't think it was doing any damage, and it was needed. Everyone else did it, so you did too.

"I would definitely tell people not to do it. But when you get someone and they can't move on their own, what do you do? Do you stand there and say 'I can't help, it's against regulations'? No carer in their right mind would say that to people, would they? You put yourself in their place. I never even thought about what it would do to me.

"What would make a difference? Hospital beds, because you could raise them to the level that you wanted. Hoists aren't always the answer. Lots of people have thick pile carpets - you try manoeuvring someone in a hoist across that. Pushing and pulling someone can be just as bad as lifting them.

"I did have training. In fact, I trained other people how to 'move and handle' - after a while they stopped calling it lifting. I know things have drastically changed at work since I left. The council is being very careful now because there are so many injuries - they are really protective. Nobody's allowed to do any lifting at all.

"I haven't heard a word from my employer since the day I left. I went off sick at the end of January 1998. They sent me to the works doctor, and after a year he said I couldn't return to work. I got three months' notice with pay." CC THE DISABLED PERSON

The diabled person
Helen Speight, 53, was born with a condition called arthro-gryposis, which affects her joint mobility and use of her muscles. She has been married to Alec for 11 years, and has a personal assistant, Kathleen. She says: "I've been a wheelchair user more or less all my life, but I didn't have any community care input until I got married. Before then my mum and dad used to manage.

"I found out about the Independent Living Fund, and in a sense that's where the problems started, because it was implied that unless I could use a glide sheet [rather than being lifted] I wouldn't be able to have a personal assistant.


"So, when the occupational therapist brought a glide sheet for me to try, I was a bit naughty and said 'oh yes, that'll work fine once we've got used to it'. So they gave me the go-ahead and I advertised and employed a personal assistant.

"The truth is that I can't get out of my chair unless my husband lifts me. In the house I don't sit right back in my wheelchair, I perch on the edge. But when I go out I have to sit right back for stability, which involves someone pulling me back.

"I asked about training for lifting and handling for Kathleen, but was told they (Bedfordshire social services and the local NHS trust) operated a no-lifting policy. Which means, effectively, that if I need to go anywhere for more than an hour or two, I have to take my husband with me. Kathleen and I have devised a way of getting me back into the chair if Alec isn't available, but it really is a palaver. We have to take the sides of the chair out, take the back down, and then Kathleen puts her arms around me from the back and we have to rock from side to side, while I shuffle back. I don't get right back the way I would like to be, but it's better than nothing. It does feel ridiculous, really.

"In hospital the same thing applies. The nurses put you on a cotton sheet and they grab the sheet and lift. From my point of view there's no difference, they're still lifting you. But rather that than use a hoist.

"You've just got to mention hoists to me and the red mist comes down. They should be put on a big bonfire and burned. I detest and loathe them. People get this idea that everyone can sit in the correct position, but I can't - I end up almost lying down. The edges dig into your flesh, and its extremely painful. Plus it's totally undignified - you end up swinging about like a dead animal on a butcher's hook.

"It infuriates me when people keep discussing disabled people as 'loads'. I am not a filing cabinet - I am a living, breathing person.

"Kathleen has lifted me slightly at times, but, because she hasn't been taught properly, I'm nervous about it and we don't do it often. If we went into Newcastle I have to be careful what I drink in case I need the loo. It's easy enough to get out and to the toilet but, to get back into the chair again, we have to go through this silly ritual of taking the chair to pieces.

"I feel extremely angry about it. Having a personal assistant should mean independence, but the no-lifting policy has such a restrictive impact on my life, and on Alec's. It means that he's got to come with me whenever I'm doing something - whether it's visiting my mum or going shopping.

"I do realise that people need to be protected - they only have one back. I really believe training is the answer. Physiotherapists have devised ways that minimise the risks, and if people are properly trained and follow the rules, they should be okay. And there are lots of dangers in life. A blanket no-lifting policy is like saying lifeguards shouldn't be required to swim, or firefighters shouldn't be required to go into burning buildings."