Terms of endearment – The ‘darling’ debate

A couple of months ago the Care Quality Commission (CQC) released a report detailing an inspection of a care home in Harrogate where the language used by staff when communicating with residents came under the spotlight. Care home staff had been using terms such as “sweetie”, “darling”, “handsome” and “love”, and the inspection team were concerned about these being “demeaning and patronising”.

Since then plenty of people have weighed in with their opinion on the use of terms of endearment in social care settings, and I’ve been fascinated at how polarised viewpoints have been on this issue. Some people feel such terms introduce welcome informality and infer kindness and compassion, whilst others have found them offensive and disrespectful.

Given that my dad spent the last nine years of his life in three different care homes, he and us as his family gathered plenty of experience in the different ways staff addressed dad. These ranged from the formal ‘Mr Britton’ and the less formal use of his forename, all the way through to calling him “uncle”, which was intended by staff as a term of endearment.

I can’t say what dad thought of the different ways in which he was addressed, since he never spoke to me about them or reacted differently depending on how he was addressed. I personally never had a particular issue with any of the ways in which he was addressed, which starkly contrasts with other usage of language that I really did have a massive problem with.

The term “change your nappy” when referring to changing dad’s incontinence pad was amongst the phrases I loathed the most, and something I touched on in my blog post R-E-S-P-E-C-T. This to me was a grossly inappropriate use of language, and interestingly given the largely overseas workforce was a phrase actually used by an English care worker, so it certainly wasn’t a case of inadvertently misunderstanding the meaning.

Ultimately of course, all use of language comes down to what the person being spoken to feels comfortable with. I can’t imagine many older people in a care home would want their incontinence pad to be described as a nappy, but I guess it’s possible that some people MIGHT find that phrase familiar to them and be comfortable with it. I just felt my dad would be extremely offended and it was entirely inappropriate for him.

The same of course is true with terms of endearment, and this was the point so clearly illustrated in the fallout from the CQC report. Whatever someone prefers to be called is what they should be called - individual preference should override any viewpoints staff or indeed inspectors have. But the key point here is choice. 

It’s vital to prominently document how someone likes to be addressed from the moment they enter any type of residential care. This should be known by all staff, including any agency staff from the beginning of their shift, and we should never make assumptions. Shortening forenames isn’t something everyone will like – a gentleman called Jonathan might not want to be called John. The formality of calling someone Mr or Mrs may make them feel uncomfortable… or it may be exactly how they want and expect to be addressed. A person may prefer the use of a middle name, or even prefer a name that isn’t associated with their given name at all.

Then of course there is this tricky area of terms of endearment. In some parts of the UK, especially more northern parts, terms of endearment are commonplace amongst the population and are likely to be heard everywhere from shops to hospitals, with many people finding them reassuring and comforting, like the familiar taste of regional foods or beverages.

But they will never be to everyone’s liking. I’ve been called “love” and “darling” before and not minded, but I wouldn’t appreciate being called “duck” for example. Care providers, no matter how heavy their workload, have to ensure that all individual preferences are catered for and not strayed from, no matter how easy it might be for staff members to revert to what is most familiar to them. In the end, it’s all about person-centred care and that begins from the very first interaction.

Of course staff will never get it right all of the time, that’s human nature and a rare slip of the tongue is forgivable, but it is perhaps worth reflecting on the following. Many people who move into residential care feel they lose a huge amount when they make that move, but to lose your right to be addressed as you would want to be is something no one should ever lose.

Until next time...

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Special Measures – My view

Last week's announcement that adult social care providers who deliver sub-standard care face being put into Special Measures from April 2015 proved to be quite a momentous event for me. I was involved in the announcement (details here), and it understandably produced a lot of mixed reaction.

I'd like to use this blog post to clarify some of my thoughts around this issue in more detail. The singularly most important thing to stress in this debate is that the majority of care is good care. I have written extensively about the amazing care my father received from many dedicated and caring professionals (for examples see: 'Continuity is key', 'Sense and simplicity', 'End-of-life care - A very personal story') some of whom are still good friends of my family. The coverage I have given to the positive aspects of my father's care on D4Dementia and elsewhere far outweighs coverage of our negative experiences.

It is widely known that adult social care has a poor reputation, badly tainted by the actions and culture of a minority whose conduct hits the headlines in a way that the many positive stories of wonderful care never do. Yet, as I said in my statement in the press briefing for the Special Measures announcement, "Most care is excellent. Most care workers are dedicated, and often undervalued, professionals". 

I am the first to acknowledge that there are huge issues in the recruitment and retention of good care workers (see this blog post), and that the terms and conditions that many work under fall well short of the professional standing and associated remuneration that I would like to see given to care work. But none of this is an excuse for poor care. Many good care workers have terms and conditions of employment that do not fairly reflect the work that they do and yet they still deliver great care, and of course the many volunteers who help to prop up services earn nothing at all and often make an amazing contribution to the lives of vulnerable adults. 

None of that in any way belittles the issues around employment of care workers, but aligning debates about employment with debates around poor care almost gives the impression that unfair employment conditions are an excuse for poor care, when there can never be an excuse for poor care. I know for a fact that the many wonderful people who cared for my dad weren't paid enough, or valued by their employers as they should have been (one of my dad's care homes had 4 different owners in the time he lived there), but they were fundamentally dedicated and caring people who did amazing work in often very difficult circumstances.  

In terms of the proposals about Special Measures, many people have asked me what will be the difference between Special Measures and the powers CQC have now to issue warning notices and if necessary take action to remove the registration of a provider and close a service. To clarify, CQC have been asked to develop a Special Measures regime for adult social care by the Secretary of State. That process will begin in autumn 2014 and be done via the Adult Social Care Co-Production group that I am a member of. At present, the in depth details of what Special Measures in adult social care will look like are still to be decided on.

In the meantime, I have my own personal 'wish list' that draws on the experience of poor care that we had in the last 6 months of my dad's life. This list includes:

1) Timely intervention - Often vulnerable people don't have weeks and months to wait for improvements to happen. If the 'care' they are receiving is acutely failing, it could cause serious injury or premature death.

2) Targeted intervention - A Special Measures style intervention should, in my view, directly address particular concerns by signposting to resources that can make an immediate difference to the lives of the people receiving a care service. There are loads of great resources available, and accessing them doesn’t necessarily require a provider to spend a lot of money. We are very fortunate in the UK to have The Social Care Institute for Excellence and Skills for Care alongside many other innovative and highly effective national and local organisations, businesses, charities and community interest companies that can provide guidance, practical resources and be catalysts for change. Indeed, independent of regulation some care providers work with me in a consultancy capacity to evaluate, improve or change aspects of their service, so there are many proactive and forward-thinking providers out there already.

3) Sensitive intervention - It is vital to be mindful that a care home is the home of the people that live there. In my view Special Measures must do everything possible to turn a service around in a timely and targeted way without the people that live there having to find a new care home, unless of course those people want to find new care home. Having to move can be very distressing, and again possibly hasten a person's death is they are particularly frail or have advanced dementia.

4) Public accountability - I hope that, like with hospitals, Special Measures will provide clarity for families about the status of a service. Families aren't stupid - they know when care isn't good enough, but generally they are often too afraid to speak up. They need to see CQC taking firm but fair action that addresses shortcomings if a service isn’t safe, caring, effective, responsive and well-led. As part of that process, I would like to see all providers actively working with families in a renewed effort towards teamwork and inclusivity in the day-to-day life of a care home.

So how are care providers likely to react? In my view, if you are a good care provider you have nothing to fear. If you are a provider who is found to have a service that is delivering sub-standard care but you are prepared to work hard on turning that service around you have nothing to fear. If, however, you are a provider of a sub-standard care service and you are complacent and disinterested in improvement then you are a danger to the people who rely on you (people receiving your care, their families and any good care workers that you employ), and anyone who may come into contact with your service in the future. It is then the role of CQC to take action and it would be indefensible if they didn't.

There is some disquiet that putting a service into Special Measures will mean that the provider cannot maintain their revenue stream if one of the conditions of Special Measures is to prevent the provider from having new admissions to their care home or new clients to their homecare service. This, however, isn't new - there was a period when one of my dad's care homes was closed to new admissions due to safeguarding. In my view this actually helps providers; it enables them to focus on their service and the improvements that are needed without the added responsibility of caring for more people, and it safeguards the public from anyone else coming to harm whilst the service implements improvements.

Is privatising care the reason poor care exists? In my view poor care can occur whether the provider is making a profit, is a not-for-profit or indeed is a public sector organisation. The causes of poor care practices are, more often than not, centred around the culture of an organisation, its leadership and in some cases individual staff teams or members. Can hospital-style Special Measures work in social care? No, because clearly there are significant differences between hospitals and social care, but there are certainly some positive examples of hospitals turning themselves around as a result of being placed into Special Measures.

Can CQC be trusted with this? As is well known, CQC didn't provide us as a family with the support we needed when my father was alive, but arguing about the regulator isn't going to change the fact that they are still the regulator. Working with them to improve social care, celebrating the outstanding examples of care and uncovering inadequate care is the only option in terms of the regulation of UK health and social care services. As I have said in the past, inspection - however rigorous and informed with intelligent monitoring - will still only be a snapshot of a service. Whistleblowing is as vital now as it has ever been, whether you are a person receiving care, a family member or a social care worker.

I believe as a country we owe it to every person who needs social care and their family to ensure that care is the very best it can be. I will always champion that regardless of who is in government and who the regulator is. I feel passionately that we must be the change we want to see, and constantly strive for improvement and the eradication of poor practice.

Until next time...

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Caught on camera

CQC’s launch of their document ‘A fresh start for the regulation and inspection of adult social care’ has created a barrage of debate. Amongst the raft of changes and proposals to overhaul the inspection and regulation of care services for adults are some ideas that CQC want to discuss with the public, including the “Potential use of mystery shoppers and hidden cameras to monitor care”. Concerns have been raised about whether hidden cameras are ethical, if their use would be legal, and whether we even need them.

To begin to illustrate my views, I want to pose a scenario to you:

A man of 84 is living in a care home. He has advanced dementia, and requires all of his needs to be met by a skilled team of care professionals, assisted by his family. His family are not present 24 hours a day, so much of his care is provided by different care professionals. His family become concerned for his welfare when the ownership, management and staffing of the home changes . The home is frequently short-staffed and running on agency staff (who don’t even know who each resident is). The man becomes more frail, has more infections, begins to develop pressure sores and is being kept in bed more than normal. This is also true of other residents. The few remaining regular staff, including the man’s keyworker, express concerns about the way that they are being instructed to care for the man and how new staff are caring for him. The man is eventually admitted to hospital with pneumonia after aspirating on his own vomit five times. The hospital are so concerned about the condition of the man that they make him the subject of a safeguarding order. He never fully recovers from the pneumonia and passes away four weeks later, less than two weeks after his 85th birthday.

That man was my dad.

I repeatedly raised concerns about my father’s care with the care provider after the changes in ownership, management and staff. Eventually I had to resort to phoning CQC three times before they would take my complaint seriously. They inspected, but then took two months to produce a report. It was too late for my dad. His keyworker, a wonderful care professional who had diligently looked after my father for eight years, was as heartbroken by the way in which the care deteriorated as we were. Indeed that care professional, and his colleagues who had  assisted with looking after my dad for many years, found alternative employment and left the home: they simply could not stand to deliver care in the way that the management wanted it delivered.

On the night my father aspirated on his own vomit, we believe he was put to bed too early and given a milky drink in bed without being properly upright – all of those actions going directly against our wishes and the recommended advice for his care from doctors (the management made their own care plans without our consent). The doctors treating my father at the hospital didn’t believe he would pull through the night – aspirating on your own vomit is a bit like pouring acid into your lungs they said. Imagine how that felt.

We will never really know what happened that night, because despite asking the staff on duty, no one could explain. I dearly wish we had had a hidden camera in my father’s room that night, and indeed in the months leading up to that fatal incident. I know it would have proven the poor care my father was subjected to, and it would also have proven some of the good care people like his keyworker provided, often fighting against the management to do what was best for my dad.

Do I think cameras should be routinely installed into care homes? No I don’t. But potentially they do have a value in certain specific circumstances when there are grave concerns for a person’s welfare that only indisputable footage can prove. Currently surveillance is limited to the few families who have installed hidden cameras to prove that their relative is being abused, or places like Winterbourne View that needed Panorama cameras to expose the appalling treatment being meted out.

It must be remembered that some people don’t have a family to monitor their care. People with dementia, learning disabilities and other conditions cannot always articulate what is happening to them. Proving how injuries are sustained can sometimes be one person’s word against another’s. Poor care many only really come to light following a crisis point when a person is admitted to hospital in a condition that no amount of treatment can cure, or it many only become evident on investigation after death.

I want to pose another scenario to you:

A lady living with dementia in a care home, almost completely deaf and blind, begins to lose a dramatic amount of weight and is always thirsty when her family visit. The family suspect she isn’t being fed enough. They often find drinks that have been left out of her reach, and suspect that staff aren’t communicating with her appropriately. She eventually passes away at a weight that would be considered severely malnourished.

I knew this lady, and her family agonised over what happened to her – a camera would have given them answers, and potentially ensured she received better care.

Dignity, privacy and respect are all vital in any care setting, but there is nothing dignified or respectful about elder abuse or premature death from negligence that hides behind a veil of privacy. Such practices – that are in the minority - must be rooted out: they taint the vast majority of wonderful care that is being provided. A hidden camera can prove or disprove allegations and suspicions, and it could potentially work in many different ways. For example: It can prove that a care worker is acting inappropriately. It can prove when a provider is negligent in not giving their staff the equipment or training needed to perform a task or to keep a person safe. It can assist a care provider to root out poor practice that they suspect an individual employee of but need to prove. It can show if a person receiving care has had a harmless accident or is self-harming. It can provide evidence if a family are being abusive, either towards their own relative or towards staff (yes, it does happen).

Cameras could also be helpful in certain specific circumstances in people’s own homes, where they are receiving home care or care from a family member, friend or neighbour.

Consider this scenario:

Two elderly sisters live alone at home. A neighbour ‘befriends’ them. That neighbour manages to persuade them to sign a Power of Attorney and then gets control of all of their money. She tells them that they are now so poor they cannot afford heating. Professional carers often come in to find these ladies cold and hungry. One of the sisters develops hyperthermia. Eventually they end up in care, virtually penniless.

I knew these ladies – could a camera have helped them, and brought the person who prayed on them to justice?

Clearly there are huge ethical, moral and legal issues with the use of cameras in any setting, particularly if those cameras are hidden. Whether a policy allowing the use of hidden cameras in adult social care will ever be created and implemented isn’t yet decided – this is merely an idea that has been put into the public domain for debate. Personally I welcome healthy discussion on any proposal that could help to safeguard our most vulnerable people and stamp out elder abuse. I don’t believe sensitive use of such cameras in a minority of isolated cases would undermine the morale of social care professionals. In my mind, those who are providing good care have nothing to fear.

Until next time...

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Paid to care

When you go into any care setting, either as someone needing care or their family, you naturally expect that everyone who is looking after you or your loved one has been given all the skills that they need to provide that care safely, compassionately and confidently. What you might not realise is that aside from those people who you automatically recognise as being professionally trained and accredited (doctors, nurses, occupational therapists, physiotherapists, radiographers etc), those who assist them in providing care aren’t afforded the same professional status.

Although standards have been laid down by the Skills Councils for Health and Social Care, there is no robust system for ensuring that these are met, leaving the training and development of Healthcare Assistants (HCA’s) in hospitals and carers in social care settings (care homes, domiciliary care etc) very much open to interpretation and varying levels of implementation. In addition there is currently no defined path of career progression for those who seek it, and no professional body that offers registration for this huge number of care workers (unlike the RCN for Nurses or the BMA for doctors).

During my father’s time as a hospital inpatient, I would say that the majority of his care was provided by HCA’s. They were the ones charged with checking his vital signs, turning him to prevent pressure sores, changing his incontinence pads, and helping him to wash, eat and drink. Nurses were always on the ward, but clearly not enough of them for the number of high dependency patients, let alone with sufficient time to support their HCA colleagues.

Indeed, such were the tasks undertaken by HCA’s that many visiting relatives actually believed that they were part of the nursing staff. Yet HCA’s, despite the vital work that they do, clearly aren’t valued by our healthcare system. Without the professional standing of their nursing colleagues, HCA’s are effectively a cheap labour source for employers. Many are working on grossly over-stretched hospital wards leading to their duties creeping ever more into the realms of full-blown nursing. In monetary terms it costs far more to employ additional nurses than it does to ask HCA’s to complete some nursing tasks, but this is a dangerous game to play with patient’s health and wellbeing.

The situation is no better in social care, with carers in care homes and domiciliary care again providing vital support to often highly dependent vulnerable people under huge pressure, often inadequately trained or supervised and feeling very undervalued. Whilst some care providers constantly update and evaluate the skills of their workforce, others provide much less effective training for their staff, putting those who are receiving care at huge risk. Training doesn’t need to be complex, degree-style education (see this blog post), it just needs to be logical, natural and above all effective.

How this situation has gone on for so long is a mystery to me. We regulate health and social care services and demand high quality care, and yet that isn’t followed through with a framework that invests in and supports the very frontline staff who are charged with delivering this. I’m not suggesting that training and qualifications are the answer to all of our problems in care, far from it. On many occasions I had to educate both nurses and HCA’s on how to care for my father in aspects such as his swallowing problems, communication difficulties or behavioural issues. I do, however, feel that as patients and relatives we want to know that care provision is considered sufficiently important that it warrants a professional standing within our society, with the relevant standards and rewards in place, adhered to and monitored.

Currently, many HCA’s and carers working in social care earn less per hour than you might get as a cleaner or refuse collector. Whilst the latter two examples are important jobs, surely being in a position where you could potentially influence whether someone suffers pain, harm or ultimately lives or dies as a result of the care you provide is somewhat more important. I also believe that the role of HCA’s and carers in social care settings is one that their more qualified colleagues would also want to carry greater recognition and professional standing.

Nurses and doctors on busy hospital wards would be the first to admit that they would be lost without HCA’s. An effective care team cannot function without people who provide the basic care that is so vital to a patient’s recovery and comfort. Indeed, I would argue that the role of HCA’s goes beyond just providing care, but also moves into the realms of social interaction with patients, and provides vital opportunities to learn more about a patient or to spot changes that could indicate a problem or decline.

Looking at the role of HCA’s in that light, you suddenly realise just how important they are in a care team. So why don’t we train them to a higher, universal standard, give them professional recognition and pay them more money? The simple answer is because it’s cheaper not to. But does it represent good care, or indeed the model of care we want for ourselves or our loved ones? No.

In my opinion, for far too long those who provide frontline care have been marginalised, undervalued and seen as the workhorse of public and private sector health and social care. There has never been a more important time to change this situation if we are truly serious about delivering high quality care across all sectors. I believe most HCA’s and carers in social care would want this, their colleagues would support such a move, and most importantly of all patients and families would know that those looking after them at some of the most difficult and sensitive moments in their life are recognised and valued professionals within our society.

Until next time...

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