The Rest of My Life: Windchimes

            Technically, today is the first day of my retirement!

            Tuesday has always been a regular day off for me, so today would normally have been my next working day of the week.  I half-expected my internal clock (usually pretty accurate) to automatically wake me at 5:05 am.  Instead, I awoke at 6:30 am - just about the time I'd normally be wheeling the bike out and setting off for my shift.  I laid there then, musing my way through what would have been my routine for the day. 

            After the usual cycle ride around town, I'd head up the hill to Windchimes at  6:45, unlock the main gate, then unlock reception and disable the alarm.  I'd check the main diary to see which rooms were being used that day, and whether they'd been used on the day before.  That would give me an order of priority for work and some idea of how much work I'd need to do.  Then I'd head downstairs to the cloak room, park the bike outside the back door, have a quick wash and brush-up, and start in.

            The first job wasn't on the itinerary, but something the cleaners did as a favour to the kitchen staff (who'd be in at 11) and the care staff: check and log the 'fridge and freezer temperatures in the kitchen, empty the dishwasher, then load up the food trolley for breakfast (cereals, jams, fresh fruit, bread, milk, butter) and wheel it through to the dining room - checking quickly that it was clean and tidy.  By this time, I'd usually hear the first thump of feet on the stairs, or the 'ding' of the lift as it was called to bring the children down to breakfast.  When they burst in, there would be cheery 'good mornings', including some Makaton-signed ones for the non-verbal (thumb up, then sweep the hand across the chest from left shoulder to right).  Once the children were settled and eating, I'd make cuppas for myself and the staff (and any children who wanted one) and we'd have a bit of a catch-up and handover.  I'd get details of any rooms that might want special attention, any carpets that might need shampooing, any 'smells' that needed neutralising, etc.

            All of the children who stay at the unit have learning disabilities to a greater or lesser degree, and all are still living at home with parents.  Their stays are usually for 2 or 3 nights.  During term-time, they all go off to their respective SEN schools.  They can come at any age between 5 and 18.  Some come in their teens.  A few have been coming for many years.  There's a long waiting list (as with the other 4 respite units in the group).  At 18, they each have a big leaving party, a card, special presents.  Then they'll either move on to Day Services (if any are available), or - mostly, I think - they'll stay at home.  Some may have to go into permanent care (again, though, if places are available).  We've had some really capable children who could perhaps do some form of work - with support.  It's sad to think that for many, though, the last day at Windchimes is the last bit of extra support and variety they and their parents may ever get.

            The majority of the children are also autistic.  And it's working with people who have both learning disabilities and autism that the differences between autistic and non-autistic people become more apparent.  I tell this to the students I teach at the local medical school.  So often - as with other people I meet - they say "We'd never guess you are autistic."  Well... a lifetime of masking, plus a few things I've learned over the years, helps (I don't mask so much nowadays, mind).  But yes... when you add in learning disabilities, the autism becomes obvious.  Generally speaking, in my long experience, people with learning disabilities are quite gregarious, outgoing and active.  They love things like games, singing, having fun. Add autism and that can change dramatically.  They are more self-absorbed, less likely to mix with others, less likely to want to change their activities too much.  They need a much more individualised and specialised approach with care and support.  Many of these children will have Tablets and other smart devices that they use all the time, and it can be very difficult to wean them away.  That's the case, of course, for many children now.  Adults, too, come to that!  Which is an interesting point, actually.  With the explosion of mass-communication smart devices we've seen in recent years, and the impact it's had on society and culture, non-autistic people are adopting behaviours and traits traditionally (and mostly erroneously) associated with autistic people: self-absorption, rudeness, communication difficulties...

            Once breakfast is done and the school taxis have gone, I can properly start: fill the buckets, load the trolley, grab the Henry, and off!  Resource Centre rooms (sensory room, soft-play room, multi-function room, spa room, bathrooms).  Then upstairs to do the admin offices, meeting rooms and reception.  Next would be the Respite Centre:  night lounge, bedrooms and main bathrooms.  And finally back down to do the dining room and day lounge (where all the toys and games are kept).  And that would be pretty much it for the 7-hour shift.  There was no one to bother me.  No one to breath down my neck.  No real pressure.  It's why I usually sang as I worked. (I don't think I've got a bad voice, but I've been told before 'Don't give up the day job!'  Well... I have!)

            It's a big Centre, considering the average stop-over is for 3 children only.  There's a playground at the back and a large garden area with a trampoline and summer house.  In reception, there's a huge north-facing window wall which (being as the Centre's at the top of the highest hill around) affords a stunning view over the town rooftops and the seafront.  On a clear day, the coastline of Essex stretches lazily across the horizon.  In the heat and shimmer of summer, you could almost imagine you were looking down on a view of the French Riviera! 

            Behind its gate and fences, the place is quite shut off from the outside world - the chateau on the hill, as I think of it (though its modernist design makes it resemble more of a cross between a ski-lodge and an industrial unit - at once stylish and purely functional!)  There's a rarefied atmosphere inside those fences and walls, too.  It feels safe (as it should) and inviting (that, too).  A notice board in the main office contains plaudits from parents and relatives, and sometimes from the children themselves.  There are lots of photos of happy, smiling faces.  The latest Ofsted inspection, in February, garnered an 'Outstanding' result.  The Inspector said it was the easiest such award he'd ever given.

            It's a good place.  I shall miss it - the laughter and smiles and singing, and even the occasional meltdowns.

            But it's only along the road, after all - so I won't be a stranger!

(image: mine)