BRUNSWICK

Part four of our five-part series on proposed changes to Department of Health and Human Services’ funding for individuals with disabilities focuses on one residential manager and the plight of many direct support professionals like him.

Erland Springer said that he loves his job and can’t think of anything he would rather do.

“Helping people is my calling and being a DSP is what I want my career to be,” Springer said. “That being said, the reality of the situation is that I will need to move on from this field at some point.”

Springer said he will have to move on to a job he really doesn’t want to provide for his family — a situation, he said, not so rare for direct support professionals.

The issue really becomes one of simple economics. DSPs like Springer say they believe the state has little value for what they do.

From passing life-sustaining medications, scheduling medical appointments and transportation, to every aspect of personal care, including toileting, bathing, teeth brushing and clipping finger and toenails, DSPs spend their entire shift running.

When they’re not directly caring for individual needs, DSPs are often teaching clients valuable life skills.

“The DSPs don’t feel appreciated because they continue to be asked to do more but get paid the same,” Springer said.

That lack of appreciation has led to an exodus from the field. Springer said nobody in the profession expects to be able to make a lifelong career out of it — they just ask for enough to live outside of work.

“This is creating such a shortage of DSPs that it is affecting the lives of our individuals,” Springer said.

The lack of trained boots on the ground means residents are confined to their houses and estranged from the communities in which they live. Springer said many times, residents just sit around and wait to get a little attention from the undermanned staff.

“Our residents don’t know what to expect day to day,” Springer said. “They need consistency if we hope to improve their quality of life as opposed to just maintaining where they currently are in life.”

The lack of staffing concerns many like Springer, who said some residents are prone to aggressive behaviors. Understaffed homes can lead to severe injuries to both residents and DSPs.

“The longer this goes on, the higher the percentage of something really bad happening goes up,” Springer said. “Do we need someone to die as a result of lack of staff before we take into consideration the dangers the state is creating?”

Paul Kempf said there is hardly a night he doesn’t go to bed knowing he did some good in the world supporting clients.

Like Springer, Kempf said nobody in the DSP field are in it for the money.

“The people who give the most are those who make the least,” Kempf said.

On top of low pay, Kempf said many of his colleagues cannot afford company insurance, which for many amounts to the majority of their check — that coupled with a $5,000 deductible, most DSPs can’t afford to use their insurance even if they are paying for it.

Employed for five years in his current position, Kempf said he’s considered a seasoned staff member.

Kempf said the DSP shortage means he frequently works double shifts — often alone when there are supposed to be two to three staff on duty.

Even with all the DSP work, Kempf has had to take on shifts for different companies, doing seasonal work for L.L. Bean and drive a fuel truck to make ends meet.

Kempf said he’s concerned he’s not on top of his game, especially considering some residents have aggressive or self-injurious behaviors.

Hugh Spiers spent many years working mostly with troubled youth in a residential setting. He has many harrowing stories of aggressive clients and poorly staffed programs.

Spiers told a story of a client destroying a residence to the tune of thousands of dollars in damage. The staffer on duty had no backup and was written up by his supervisor for not doing more.

In another instance, Spiers spoke of a time when the whole residence was in turmoil and “about to riot.” Spiers said a staff member took the main instigator for a walk to cool him off.

“Kid attempts to push (staff) off a rocky embankment, (staff) ‘saves’ himself by grabbing some trees,” Spiers said. “The kid turns (staffer’s) head up with a branch — (staffer) is significantly injured.”

In a personal story, Spiers talks about trying to remove a client from a residence due to a behavioral incident.

“Kid snaps a wire, I get pushed part way through a window,” Spiers said. “Rolling around in broken glass with the kid for about 10 minutes before other staff heard me screaming for help — remarkably neither of us got cut.”

Spiers mentioned another time when the client to staff ratio was 14 to 2. A client having a behavioral incident went into her room and kicked out a window, holding staff at bay with a giant shard of glass.

“I remember thinking if I rush her I’ll probably only need seven stitches. I have had seven stitches before it’s not that bad,” Spiers said.

For just a moment, Spiers said the client turned her attention toward her own arm, giving him a split second to lunge and disarm her — sparing both of them any injury.

Spiers has since left the pressures of direct care and support. He said in his time working in direct support, he’s seen demands increase to do more with less, threatening the lives and safety of all involved.