Happy Independence Day Everyone!
Today I share a story about a special needs brother by Sabrina, a German blogger of the wonderfully creative site, CoffeeRocketFairyTale. Below I share Sabrina's "Monday Morning Message" posted this morning.
Yesterday I got a
call from my brother.
It was
about 10.30 am - a time he usually doesn't call because that's when he is at
work.
When I
answered the phone he told me he had just discovered two holes in his socks and
now didn't know what to do about it.
He is 28
years old.
My
brother was born with disabilities, something the doctors called "trisomy 8"
- meaning he was born with three copies of the eighth chromosome (instead of
two).
If you
see him you wouldn't be able to tell.
If you
speak to him you wouldn't be able to tell.
But
maybe you would notice if you spent more time with him.
Until October 2010 he lived with my parents.
We all
knew that it was time for him to move out because we realized that he wouldn't
make any more progress as long as he stayed at home.
He
relied on mum and dad doing things for him he could have been doing without any
help, but you know how things are in "Hotel Mama" as we call it: you
get your mum/dad/brother/sister to do it for you.
But one
day he mentioned that he would like to live in his own place one day.
It took
my mother more than a year and countless visits to the authorities before they
had found a convenient flat and developed a way that allows my brother to live
in his own place but still receive the special care he needs.
Compared
to other people with disabilities I know, there's not much he needs.
His time
management is pretty much non-existent, so he needs someone who tells him to
hurry up.
He can't
judge if it's warm outside and he could wear just a shirt to work or if he
needs to put on a jacket.
Also, he
needs help with the "official" stuff. Letters from authorities,
paying bills...
And
apparently he doesn't know what to do when he finds that there are holes in his
socks, either.
Good job
though that he thought about asking someone - I told him to get himself some
new socks and not to worry.
Despite
the little problems he sometimes encounters, he thoroughly enjoys living in his
own flat which he shares with another man of his age who has similar special
needs.
Both of
them knew they wanted to live in such an environment.
When we
all sat together and thought about the possibilities
they have, both of them made it very clear that they did not want to live in
the sheltered workshop there is for people with disabilities.
It would
have been too much care for them.
The
other options was to live in a flat (just as they are now) but with very little
care - only once a week a caretaker would pay a visit to check on them.
Again -
it wouldn't have worked out because that would have been too little care.
That's
the problem we have here in Germany at the moment: you either have too much or
too little care!
So my
mother and the other guy's mother got together and thought about the situation
- and came up with a system that suits their purpose: my brother and his friend
moved into their own flat, but a caretaker would come in twice a day to get
them ready for work in the mornings and make sure they get something to eat in
the evenings, get their grocery shopping done and get some help with their
paperwork.
Most of
the time, this works pretty well.
But it's
still very important for my brother to know that he can call my parents or me
if he has a problem.
Like
when he discovers holes in his socks.
Sabrina
