Tag Archive: Living with David


The Sunday Roast – British Talent has Gone to the Dogs.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 14 Comments
May 13, 2012

Not – Living with David (for a week).

Yippee! David is going away on an outward bound course to Bryntisillio in Wales next week. He’s gone there every year since 2006 and it’s going to be sad with him leaving school in July; this will be his last trip.

Fortunately for me, it is also the last occasion I have to contend with the little extra’s he brings home as a result of his expedition. You see, David is a kleptomaniac in terms of souvenirs picked up from the floor. Check his pockets every day and you will find, combs, pine cones, feathers … I even found a key belonging to some woman called Jane, the other day.

Really sorry, Jane that you can’t get into your house but David has your key and not only that, I don’t know who the hell you are.

The thing with him going to Bryntisilio, as I said, he comes back with far more than I pack in his case, namely pieces of Bryntisilio itself. I’m not sure they notice at the centre that their rear garden wall is missing half of its bricks. If they do and are puzzling over what has happened to them, I can explain. David visits you – regular. Last year, there was an entire carrier full of Welsh rock, and I don’t mean the candy variety either. It’s in my garden now, adorning the rebuilt patio.

It’s not just bits of Brynty he brings home either. I think I have mentioned on Living with David posts in the past, that anywhere he goes, he does the same. This is none more so that at the Black Country Living Museum in Dudley. That museum is one where old houses and buildings from the industrial revolution and the 19th century are restored and you walk around the re-created village. In his last two visits, he’s come home, coat pockets weighted with brick, stone and slate from the said museum. It’s got to stop or one day I’ll come home to find a fully functioning Victorian Chemist shop, standing in my back garden.

Who the hell put that there?

Take notice.

The other week, I reported that it was local election time and that stiletto heels had been banned from the vote count in the event of proceedings getting a little fractious. Well, as far as I know, there was very little bloodshed spilled and Walsall Council, as a result of the election, is in no overall control.

Oh dear. Does this mean our officials will find it harder to push through their intelligently debated and rational decisions.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa!

Anyway, I jest as you see but the election did get my back up about one thing though. On the campaign trail, candidates come and canvass at peoples houses. However, if they come to mine, they will see this on the door.

Despite the notice, knock on my door, they did. Now please, tell me. If you cannot read a bloody sign, why the hell should I trust you to run a local council?

And talking of local authorities …

This one is Sandwell NHS, but it could easily be any local health authority hospital.

Took my mum to an appointment for a serious condition and despite being 84, she was made to wait over an hour in pretty uncomfortable and squalid conditions. Then, when we got out and tried to leave the car park, we found as usual. you have to pay for the pleasure of waiting.

As you can see, the first 20 minutes is free.

 

Yeah right. Don’t you start again. As if you’d be seen that quick. But anyway, after 20 minutes, you can see the cost starts to jump. We went into the second hour and had to pay more, but only because the hospital kept us waiting. It seems a bit rich when you are charged more due to the fact the hospital itself cannot keep a better schedule for its appointments.

Is there a talent contest going on?

Yes, thank goodness for that. Britain’s Got Talent has finished and I can channel hop once more without fear of confrontation from insipid dross which passes for entertainment.

I’m happy to say, I’ve not watched any on TV but did have to look it up on YouTube when I heard that final included synchronised swimmers.

Like what???

It’s true. Onto the stage, it seems, four women get into swim tanks and try to recreated the image of a 1960’s Butlin’s swimming pool.

Yes, those are the ones. Underwater windows where perverts could sip their milkshakes and peer at the young girls in the pool without getting their goggles steamed.

Anyway, enough sordid stuff and back to the main subject. Just like a Butlin’s talent contest, Britain’s Got Talent champions the ordinary, weird and wonderful, and none more weirder than the winner, a dancing … dog?

No, it’s not Snoopy, but give me strength. Talk about bottom of the barrel being scraped. Thanks a lot, Simon Cowell.

Still, it’s not the first time a dog has done well in Britain’s Got Talent.

Mind you, I shouldn’t be too hard. I have a lot in common with Susan Boyle. Let’s face it, we both look ridiculous in a dress.

Spooky nights ahead.

I’ve only gone and booked myself a place on one of these overnight ghost investigations which will happen in a couple of months. I was also looking to see the various venues the company have on offer and was intrigued by the title of one: The Lost Souls of Smethwick Baths. Why are they lost? Could they not find their way back to the changing rooms?

On the subject of ghosts …

I watched Amityville III, made in 1983, the other night. It was truly awful and before I started, I didn’t think I’d seen it before. However, as each scene appeared, I realised I had but still could not recall any of it until I had experienced it all again. Does that make it the most forgettable film I have ever sat through?

Best get packing then.

With David off to Bryntisilio tomorrow, I have loads of packing to do for him. I have also had a nasty surprise too. Handed to me on Friday, three days before he goes, was a letter. It stated that while away, the kids will have a themed party and he needs a costume.

Right, and the theme is … American Indians.

Are they having a laugh? Where the frig do they expect me to find a Native American costume at this short notice – off the rack at M&S?

Jesus! The things we parents have to cope with.

Cheers.

 

Nick

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Living with David (Coping with an Autistic Adult) – The Fight with the DWP

Filed under: Autism — 12 Comments
February 16, 2012

David is my teenage son and autistic. When first diagnosed at the age of three, the doctor told me he would never develop mentally. However, over the years he has evolved within his own world. Here I hope to tell of some of the strange but sometimes wonderful things about him and hopefully give a little insight and understanding into living with autism.

November 7 2011 – David turned 19 years of age. Being at the top end of the autistic spectrum with severe learning difficulties, he gets Disability Living Allowance (DLA) with a mobility component which funded the car. Without that car, we would have to use public transport. With David having temper meltdowns at the slightest noise trigger, the thought of travelling on a crowded bus filled me with dread. Still, all the DWP (Department for Work and Pensions) had to do was read the huge amount of evidence sent to renew his claim after him getting the benefit for the previous 10 years. I mean, they haven’t changed their qualifying criteria and unless I’m mistaken, nobody has found a cure for autism in that time.

I put the claim in, waited for his birthday and the response. What I wasn’t expecting was David to fall victim to our coalition government’s purge on blasting the disabled by demanding the DWP cut the amount they pay out, by 20%.

David’s mobility allowance was slashed; the car was taken back.

Now I understand, in these times, the need for cuts but you have to make sure you get the decision right. Two months I fought, every day asking for review while sending in further supporting information – all to no avail. After a huge cloud blighting Christmas and the surrounding time, the car went in January and we were stranded. I found out that the decision was made on the recommendation of a health professional (employed by the DWP), misreading a document sent by the school. The school said, “David’s learning age is at National Curriculum Level 2,” and they put it in capital letters. That level is what you expect of a seven-year-old – at best. David is 19. Despite that and the fact the school also supported the evidence of his violent outbursts, the health professional sided with the DWP by saying David wasn’t severely mentally impaired for his age and that his behaviour wasn’t an issue. Tell that to the three people he’s attacked and the damage to my house he’s caused since they made the decision.

I suppose doors can be replaced but it’s a pity that the health professionals at the DWP aren’t as rigorous in meeting their customers as they are misinterpreting secondhand information.

I appealed their wrong decision, as is David’s right. I sent in supporting evidence from people who have been affected by his outbursts, a strong letter from his school regarding his age-related learning, another letter from his doctor and finally, a statement from our Member of Parliament who took one look at David and saw what anybody else that meets him can see – He IS severely mentally impaired.

I was totally confident of the appeal but needn’t have worried. Today, I received a letter from the DWP regarding the appeal. They have changed the decision in David’s favour and therefore, his appeal is not necessary.

Yes, not only have they now accepted what everybody who supported the claim has said all along, they have backdated it in a full admission of their error.

The pity is, the damage is done. Three months we have had this – lost the car and now have to re-apply for another. It’s more than a car anyway, it’s what it stood for. People persecuting David for a disability he never asked for and one I certainly never did either as I continue to give up my life to be his carer.

The message is simple though. Never give up. If you have children and loved ones with autism, or any kind of disability and find yourself victims to cuts and government bureaucracy, fight it all the way.

We have won this one but do I feel like celebrating? Not really. Not when it concerns something he should never have been penalised for in the first place.

 Nick


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Living with David (Coping with an Autistic Adult) – Last Friday

Filed under: Autism — 13 Comments
February 6, 2012

Two different sized bags are packed, both filled with clothing, balloons and A3 laminates as I wait for the taxi to take him to school. The balloons and pictures are in his school bag along with other things necessary to help maintain order during the day. In addition, he has a digital camera around his neck, hanging from a lanyard and huge headphones blasting sound from his MP3. These are not music recordings but his own creations, accompanied by the strains of him shouting and clicking. I laugh; even when he’s quiet, you get to hear the pre-recorded version.

An extra-large holdall containing clothing for the weekend also has his playstation and as many Thomas the Tank trains and track he can get away with taking. You see not only is he going to school, for the next few days, he will be in respite too. This is my chance for a break, the opportunity to relax and rebuild a bit of strength in order to start again next week in the ongoing battle to maintain the support he needs. Not many people do help either. He is 19-years-old now and built so big, most shy away.

Respite is good though; he enjoys it and I get a break. It’s been a while since a similar scheme under the children’s service. There he would have regular temper meltdowns and I would be called to come and collect him, rendering the respite useless. Now he is an adult in an adult respite home. Things have gone smooth so far and I have begun to relax. He’s in his eighth stay with no problems and it couldn’t be better. I wave him off to school, bags and all.

I go into town, eating out for breakfast then enjoy a lovely day with my partner. We plan to go out in the evening too, free of any thought of the hurdles involved in a carers life.

Five o’clock, I get the call. He went into the yard at the respite home, hoping to film a helicopter he could hear flying overhead. He did this and even though smiling, something in that instance triggered a temper meltdown, culminating in him attacking a member of staff.

They say everything is okay and will only call me again if there are further problems, but the damage is done. David is heavily autistic; he has serious behaviour issues and even though I do not have to collect him on this occasion, respite in my mind … is cancelled.

Living with David - Every day a new challenge.

Nick

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