Seemingly brilliant conference speeches are often followed by a hangover, and so it has arguably proved with Andy Burnham’s. It was, it has to be said, something of a triumph, but there is now a familiar sense of nagging angst over how his big idea of a national care service is actually going to work. But equally, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to be more generous and patient.
The policy issues are vast. The new PM’s commitment to serious change is clear. And having been urgently needed for years, the basics of what he wants – personal, home-based care delivered free at the proverbial point of need – will be on their way if Labour wins the next election.
Here, though, is a question that is much less finely balanced. Neither Burnham’s speech nor the much shorter address given by Yvette Cooper, the new health and social care secretary, contained a single mention of what roughly half of England’s social care budgets are spent on: provision for working-age disabled adults. I get the politics: fixating on older people’s care and the pensions triple lock makes everything clear and relatable.
But England’s fragmented, unreliable system for younger disabled adults is in need of the same radical level of reform, and it’s the source of just as much fear and worry for the people who either depend on it, or eventually will do. In fact, I suffer from two sub-types of what we might call Care Dread. My mum is 83, my dad is 90, and they currently pay for visits from domiciliary care workers whose frequency is only going to go up.
My son James – who is autistic and has learning disabilities – has just turned 20. He currently goes to a brilliant further education college, but my partner and I will soon face what special needs parents call “the cliff edge”: a switch from education to adult social care, which will bring on a bucket-load of questions. Could he be helped into employment?
If he stays at home, what support and everyday stimulation is our local council going to pay for? If he goes into supported living, how do we guard against what I have heard about from other mums and dads: long days spent plonked in front of the TV, the odd trip out, and the possibility of housemates with completely different needs? The list of fears goes on; it haunts all parents in our position.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
