During the recent House of Lords debate on
the Care Bill, Baroness Rosalie Wilkins raised the closure of the Independent
Living Fund and asked three very important questions of the Government:
What steps will the Department of Health and the DWP jointly take to
ensure that funding is available after 2015?
Will the Minister assure the House that ILF users will not be forced
into residential care or confined within their own home with only ‘life and
limb’ care following the transfer of funding responsibilities to local
authorities?
If this Care Bill is to fulfil its principle of well-being, what level
of funding do the Government believe is necessary to ensure that we do not
return to the days when disabled people with high support needs had no
opportunity to live independently?
Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, this
only elicited a ‘non-answer’ from the Government’s Earl Howe:
Following the
closure of that fund, we have committed to passing funding to local authorities
in order to allow for ILF recipients to be brought into the mainstream care and
support system. Final details will be announced as part of the spending round
on 26 June.
These weasel words are no fig leaf for the
outrage that the closure of the ILF is likely to inflict on disabled people
with the highest support needs.
Here’s just one story (there are many
others on the DPAC website, as well as a petition).
Jean Willson is the mother of Victoria,
who has very high support needs because of physical impairment, learning
disabilities and complex health conditions.
Twenty-three years ago Victoria
moved into a flat which she shares with another young woman with similarly high
support needs. These two young women
were pioneers – in previous times they would have been consigned to
institutional care and would have been lucky to have survived much beyond early
adulthood.
Jean tells of how the ILF assessor “changed
Victoria’s
life; he saw immediately what she needed, he helped us through the minefield of
funding and benefits and changed her life and our life as a family”. ILF funding means that she has one-to-one
support throughout the day and evening but also has 6 hours when there are two
staff to help with moving and lifting, with her personal care, with her
uncontrolled epilepsy and other health conditions.
For the last 23 years, Victoria and her flatmate have lived safely
in their own home.
But Jean fears that even a hospital wouldn’t
be able to meet Victoria’s
needs and that she will die if her level of support is reduced.
All the messages coming from government and
from local authorities alike confirm that people currently receiving ILF
funding will receive less support once responsibility is transferred to local
authorities (see my previous blogpost).
Jean says: “I think things will be OK for
the first year of transition, because the funding is transferred for that first
year. But after that the funding is not
guaranteed, so Victoria
will be re-assessed by the local authority and my fear is that they will decide
she doesn’t need two-to-one care at all – it’ll be a resource-driven
assessment, her quality of life will diminish overnight and her life will be
put at risk. She would die – and she would die very quickly. I’m not being over-dramatic. It’s only because she’s had expert care and
it’s been a joint partnership with her family, that she’s survived and had a
good quality of life”.
In March this year,
Guardian columnist Zoe Williams, asked
the government a question we would all like an answer to – “What's your plan
for these people whose lives we apparently can't afford?”