Caring for criminals

I recently did an ‘early late sleep’ shift at a home where I’ve worked quite a bit, and was disturbed to find that there were three young adults there with a vulnerable young girl, who were basically criminals awaiting their trials.  One had a tag and was probably going down for all sorts of crime, including drug dealing and car theft, one was regularly assaulting staff, and another (almost eighteen) was at the scene of a murder which had been reported on TV a couple of weeks before and was facing a prison sentence for possession of a fire arm.  I found myself having to constantly face down confrontational young men, and had to drive one of them to Birmingham for an interview with a criminal solicitor.  All of a sudden this relatively settled care home was more akin to a remand centre and the staff there were bravely maintaining some kind of order in the face of some pretty intimidating behaviour.  It was clear also that the young girl there was under pressure from them too; there was definitely some bullying going on and some inappropriate behaviour too.  The manager and the staff there are a fantastic team, but they should not be expected to baby sit career criminals.  I have worked in the education department at Brinsford Young Offenders Prison and feel that pastoral work within that environment is important, but people like these should not be placed in children’s homes; especially among vulnerable kids, and I question the authority that allowed this to happen. 

Assisted Dying

While I was recovering from my cancer operation in hospital, sometimes the pain was so great; (especially when the epidural drip was removed) that even morphine hardly helped – it was all enveloping, and there was literally no escape from it; pain was me, it was all I could think of, and of course I just wanted it to go away, and thankfully eventually it did.  But there were moments when I thought if this continued I would want my life to end, because it was just so unbearable and defined my every waking moment, so even when Sarah and Lucy visited it was an effort to even speak to them.  I also remember my mum’s last moments on earth, sitting with her in her hospital room while she grimly and bravely faced her end, dying from lung cancer in excruciating pain; it was distressing for us her family, but for her it was truly awful, and I remember too wondering why she had to suffer the indignity of this long drawn out death for so long when there were surely drugs available to help to ease her on her way.  But recently it seems assisted dying is being considered seriously as an option to help us on our final journey, and now that church leaders such as the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Carey and Desmond Tutu are speaking up in favour of the bill that is facing Parliament there may be an option for the terminally ill to make an informed choice about how they die.  It’s an emotive subject, and of course laws like this should not be rushed into for all sorts of moral reasons, and many safeguards must be put in place to ensure that elderly relatives who may think their lingering illness to be a burden on their carers are not therefore pressured to end their lives before their time.  As I said, this is a subject I have been thinking about for some time for very personal reasons, and following my mum’s death I wrote and acted in a short film inspired by her called Rhubarb And Roses.  Below is some stuff about the film and a link so that you can watch it too if you like…

Short Film funded by Screen West Midlands, screened Bristol Brief Encounters Festival, Birmingham Film Festival, Soho Rushes and was short-listed for a BAFTA nomination and was a finalist in the fujifilm best new writer competition.

Molly has lung cancer and not much longer to live. As her pain increases, her son Ricky tries to give her everything he can to make her comfortable. When nothing seems to be working, she asks him to help her end her life. A last supper is prepared to help her on her way.  Rhubarb And Roses is a tribute to my mom, Jean Jones:  I spent eight months watching her die of lung-cancer, and although I have no firm conviction either way, it's also my informed contribution to the debate on euthanasia for people with terminal illness and in acute pain.  Ged Maguire (the director) lent a sympathetic touch as his father too had recently died of cancer.  It was a challenge to make a short film of life’s final taboo and to do it with dignity.  But I think it’s both funny and moving, and that was how my mom was right up to the end.

Click here to see the film