This takes us into clients’ experiences of services, concentrating on barriers to communication, recognising that any analysis of barriers to communication needs to identify the complexities of the communication process itself and the diversity of clients’ experiences (Figure 10.1). Such an analysis also needs to recognise the inequality of professional–client relationships. Professional dominance can be seen in assessment procedures where, for example, the professional’s observations are viewed as ‘objective’ whereas the patient’s perceptions are viewed as ‘subjective’, and where pseudo-scientific language serves to mystify and confuse service users (French 1993). Because of the specialisation of the various professional groups, definitions of need tend to be narrow, their scope being dictated by specialised knowledge and interests. The needs of disabled people, however, tend to be multifaceted. As Marsh and Fisher (1992: 50) point out: Attitudinal barriers are commonly referred to by disabled clients. Boazman (1999: 18–19), for instance, had mixed responses from health professionals when she became aphasic following a brain hemorrhage: Pound and Hewitt (2004) write of the equation of communication disability with ‘having nothing to say’ and ‘being stupid’ which, they believe, illustrates the ‘Does he take sugar?’ syndrome (Figure 10.2). In another, small-scale study involving people with speech impairments, it was found that most difficulties were encountered within medical services. Doctors’ and dentists’ receptionists were singled out for particular criticism (Knight et al. 2002: 19). Mary, one participant, recalled: Another participant described his encounters with hospital consultants: People with speech and language impairments are often compelled to wait long periods of time for the communication equipment they need. A survey conducted by Scope (Ford 2000: 29) found that nearly a fifth of people waited for more than a year. Professionals may also have control of when the equipment can be used. One of the research participants said: Deaf people have complained about the insistence of professionals that they use speech rather than sign language. A deaf person interviewed by Corker (1996: 92) states: In interviews conducted by French (2004a: 99), two participants spoke of their experiences of occupational therapy: Information can also be given in an insensitive way as Joan (interviewed by French et al. (1997: 37)) explained: Being unable to access information is a problem faced in all areas of life by visually impaired people, with potentially hazardous consequences of unreadable notices and loss of privacy when documents are unreadable by the intended recipient. Vale (2001) reports that appointment letters continue to be sent out in standard-size print, even by many hospital eye clinics, and only one third of National Health Service (NHS) hospitals offer general patient information in large print. It is important to recognise that social divisions, for example gender, age and ethnicity, intersect disability and also produce communication barriers in some instances. Summarising the evidence from several studies of the experiences of disabled people from ethnic minority communities, Butt and Mirza (1996: 94) state: Begum (1996) takes institutionalised discrimination as her basis for analysing difficulties in the relationship between disabled women and their general practitioners (GPs). She explored physical, communication and attitudinal barriers, and found that they deny opportunities to women with impairments and can impede access to the services they require. Disabled women, for instance, often find that information is withheld from them. One of her respondents explained that she had not been told that multiple sclerosis had been diagnosed, yet her husband had been told two years before she was informed. It also seems that the flow of information from disabled people to GPs is liable to distortion and failure. This is, at least in part, owing to GPs’ responses to impairment. One respondent in the research said: ‘Sometimes I find that a GP – particularly one who is only here for a short time and fairly new – is more interested in my sight problem, or my child’s sight problem, than in what I’ve come to ask about’ (Begum 1996: 83–84). Age can also be a factor that distorts communication. Olwen (interviewed by French et al. (1997; 35)) talking about the attitude of professionals to her loss of sight said: ‘Even though I’m older they were “…at your age what can you expect?”. You know they talk to you like that.’ Disabled professionals stand in an interesting position in an analysis of communication between professionals and disabled people. It can both be argued that the barriers to communication have discriminated against disabled people wishing to be service providers and also that the acceptance of more disabled people into the professions would be a significant factor in developing inclusive communication. A visually impaired physiotherapist interviewed by French (2001: 140) spoke of poor communication with her colleagues: Other health professionals have spoken of the advantages they have when communicating with ill and disabled clients (French 1988: 178). A disabled doctor explains: Language, in terms of cultural issues, is often seen as the main barrier to effective service provision. It is, therefore, assumed that an adequate supply of leaflets in appropriate languages and interpreters will solve the problem. However, communication consists of more than language skills and literacy. Research by Banton and Hirsch (2000: 32) suggests that even among UK-born English-speaking Asians, there is considerable lack of knowledge of what services are on offer. They state: Perhaps the most consistent recommendation from research has been the necessity for the direct involvement of disabled clients, including black disabled clients, in the planning of services (Butt and Box 1997). Again, this needs to be understood within the context of multiple discrimination. Concluding their study with young deaf Asian people and their families, Jones et al. (2001: 68) state: Studies of the families of Asian people with learning difficulties also provide evidence of high levels of poverty, with 69% of families having no full-time wage earner and half of the families being on income support (Nadirshaw 1997). Significant language barriers were found in the same study with 95% of carers being born outside the UK and only a minority able to speak or write English. There are dangers, however, in such statistics. Firstly, they can feed presumptions and stereotyping which belie diversity. In her study of Asian parents, for instance, Shah found that ‘the majority of parents had a good command of English and, for some, English was their first language’ (1998: 186). She also cites language barriers as an example of preconceived notions of discrimination experienced by Asian families. Secondly, there is a danger of over-simplifying language barriers. Language engages us in freedom of expression, release of emotion, developing cultural identity and sharing values. A common language, therefore, is no guarantee of shared understanding. At the attitudinal level of institutional discrimination, there is a lack of understanding among the majority population concerning the life style, social customs and religious practices of people from ethnic minority groups (Atkin et al. 2004). Discrimination has sometimes been denied and rationalised through myths that, for instance, black families prefer ‘to look after their own’. Comparable analyses of the experiences of the interaction of other social divisions, for example disabled and old, disabled and female, disabled and gay or lesbian, and disabled and working-class, indicate that there are parallels. For instance, in the most extensive research into the views and experiences of disabled lesbians and bisexual women, there was evidence that they felt marginalised by lesbian and gay groups: ‘…many disabled lesbian and bisexual women have experienced alienation rather than nurturing and support from the lesbian and gay community’ (Gillespie-Sells et al. 1998: 57). Another, more recent, addition to the list of groups with fragmented identities whose interests are not fully taken into account by single issue movements is disabled refugees and asylum seekers who ‘constitute one of the most disadvantaged groups within our society’ (Roberts 2000: 945). Disabled refugees and asylum seekers are ‘lost in the system’ because both ‘…the disability movement and the refugee community focus their attention … on issues affecting the majority of their populations and fail to engage adequately with issues which affect a small minority’ (Roberts 2000: 944). To the busy physiotherapist with many patients to treat and assess, it may seem that illness, impairment and accidents ‘just happen’ and that whether somebody has a fractured hip, a chest infection or a stroke, is largely a matter of chance. All the major research reports over the years, however, demonstrate that mortality, morbidity and life expectancy are strongly correlated with socioeconomic class with those in the lower social classes being at a considerable disadvantage (Townsend and Davidson 1982; Whitehead 1988; House of Commons Health Committee 2009). Although the UK has become healthier and wealthier over the years, health inequalities persist; in fact, the gap between the richest and poorest sectors of society has widened (Asthana and Halliday 2006; Wiles 2008). Certain groups within society such as old people, people from ethnic minorities and disabled people are also disadvantaged partly because of their over-representation in the lower socio-economic groups (Power and Kuh 2006). There is also something of a north/south divide with people in the north of the UK having more ill health than those in the south, although there is much variation (Naidoo and Wills 2008). In 1946 the World Health Organization (WHO) defined health as, ‘A state of complete physical, psychological and social well being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity’ (WHO 1946, cited in Ewles and Simnett (2003: 6)). Although this definition moved the concept of health away from a biological and towards a more holistic understanding, it was criticised for being idealistic and unrealistic, and for failing to recognise that people define their health in a variety of ways based on their knowledge, values and expectations, and whether or not they can fulfil roles of importance to them (Jones 2000a). In 1984, the WHO (WHO 1984 cited in Ewles and Simnett (2003:7)) redefined health as: This holistic definition of health is reflected in the book Meeting the Health Needs of People Who Have a Learning Disability (Thompson and Pickering 2001) which contains chapters on self-concept, meaningful occupation and life transitions. It can be argued that unless we feel good about ourselves and have meaning in our lives, such as going to work, raising a family, learning new skills, visiting friends, helping others or pursuing hobbies and interests, we cannot be fully healthy. Having a sense of control over our lives and being connected to the people around us are also important for health and well-being (Naidoo and Wills 2008; Wiles 2008). There are many influences on all aspects of our health. Dahlgren and Whitehead (1995) depict these as layers piled on top of each other. At the bottom of the pile are biological factors over which we have limited, or no, control. These include our sex and age, and the genes we inherit from our parents. Many diseases become more common as we grow older (e.g. cancer and cardiovascular disease), some diseases are specific to men or women (e.g. prostate and ovarian cancer), while others are genetic or congenital in origin (e.g. cystic fibrosis and congenital heart disease). When the NHS was established in 1948 it concentrated on this biological layer. It was hoped that improvements in health would eliminate health inequalities but although the overall health of the population has gradually improved (mainly through improved living conditions) the gap between the social classes has widened (Asthana and Halliday 2006; Wiles 2008). The second layer focusses on our personal behaviour. This includes whether or not we smoke cigarettes or eat too much, the amount of exercise we take and how well we attend to our health needs in the broadest sense. Most policy initiatives from government have focussed on this layer, where attempts have been made to change peoples’ behaviour in order to improve their health, for example anti-smoking campaigns (Jones 2000b; DH 2004; Wiles 2008). This emphasis on personal behaviour has, however, been criticised. Asthana and Halliday state that ‘…the government’s strategy suggests an implicit assumption that health inequalities can be reduced without changing overall levels of inequality’ (2006: 98). There is also a denial of the ways in which the social setting affects our behaviour and reduces our control. The next layer concerns social and community influences. The people around us, including family members, neighbours, colleagues and friends, can influence our health by giving meaning to our lives and providing assistance and support in times of illness, difficulty and stress. Conversely, these people can have a detrimental effect on our health by neglect, abuse or failing to take account of our needs. Organisations such as the church and self-help groups may also be important (Asthana and Halliday 2006). Berkman and Melchior (2004) point out that social networks provide opportunities for support, access, social engagement and economic advancement, allowing individuals to participate in work, community and family life. Social networks can, however, also lead to discrimination, hostility and exclusion. Living and working conditions comprise the next layer of influence. It is well known, for instance, that the type of house in which we live and our environment at work can affect our health. Work pressure or noisy neighbours may cause depression and anxiety that can lead to physical ill health (Leon and Walt 2001), and physical hazards, such as dampness, poor architectural design and dangerous work practices, can cause disease and injury (Siegnal and Theorel 2006). Living in deprived neighbourhoods also increases the risk of ill health and mortality, regardless of the individual’s personal situation (Steptoe 2006; Wiles 2008). Much of the legislation passed by the Victorians improved people’s health by tackling problems at this level (Brunton 2004). Various factory, housing and sanitation Acts, for example, reduced the incidence of serious diseases, such as tuberculosis (TB) and typhoid, as well as improving the quality of people’s lives generally. Le Fanu (1999) claims that there was a 92% decline in TB before the introduction of curative drugs. Similar evidence has been put forward by McKeown (1984) who notes that many life threatening and disabling diseases, such as poliomyelitis and diphtheria, had radically declined before the introduction of inoculation. Naidoo and Wills (2008) conclude that medicine has had only a marginal influence on health and mortality rates, although Hubley and Copeman (2008) believe that the under-utilisation of health services, especially preventative services, is a contributing factor to the ill health of the poorer sectors of society. The outermost layer affecting our health concerns general socioeconomic, cultural and environmental conditions. This includes the economic state of the country, the level of employment, the tax system, the degree of environmental pollution and our attitudes, for example towards women, old people, ethnic minorities and disabled people. Increasingly, these factors have taken on an international dimension as globalisation accelerates (Pryke 2009). It is at this level that government can be particularly influential by implementing policy and passing legislation to bring about wide social change, for example seat belt legislation (Figure 10.3), banning smoking in public places and equality legislation, such as the Sex Discrimination Act (1975), the Disability Discrimination Act (1995) and the Human Rights Act (1998). Despite the various influences on our health, the evidence suggests overwhelmingly that broad social factors concerning housing, income, educational level, employment and social integration are more important than our individual behaviour or medical practice and advances (Ewles and Simmett 2003). People of the lowest socioeconomic status are at far higher risk, not only of physical illness and early death, but also of accidents, premature births, mental illness and suicide. Smith and Goldblatt (2004) report that of the 66 major causes of death, 62 are more prevalent in the lowest two social classes. It is also the case that men in professional occupations live, on average, seven years longer than men in manual occupations and that the children of manual workers are twice as likely to die before the age of 15 years than the children of professional workers (Naidoo and Wills 2008). In addition, Hargreaves (2007) reports that in 2002–4 infant mortality was 19% higher among manual workers than professional workers, and that the gap had steadily widened. Wiles states that ‘…across the lifespan there are inequalities in people’s health that follow from their economic position. Poor people are more likely to be in poor health and to die at an earlier age’ (2008: 52). It is important to realise, however, that the health status of a country does not equate to its wealth, but rather to how fairly the wealth is distributed (Eberstadt and Satel 2004). Asthana and Halliday (2006) note that longevity rises in societies which are more equal and socially cohesive, especially when infectious diseases have been controlled. They contend that psychosocial stress is related to feelings of relative disadvantage and subordinate status which, in turn, can lead to physical and mental ill health. It can be disconcerting for healthcare professionals to realise that there is no obvious correlation between healthcare and health status in any population; indeed, the health service has sometimes been referred to as an ‘ill health’ service as it tends to respond when the damage has been done. This is not to imply, however, that inequalities in health and healthcare facilities should be tolerated. Healthcare should be distributed fairly and in accordance with need. There is evidence, for example, that the uptake of preventative services, such as birth control and screening, is low among poor people (Hubley and Copeman 2008). This is because of a range of factors that were summed up by Tudor Hart (1971) in his notion of the ‘inverse care’ law. People with low incomes find it harder to access healthcare services because of social isolation and lack of facilities, such as a car. It is also the case that the areas in which they live tend to have poor facilities and that health professionals tend to give them less time and attention than people who are perceived to be culturally similar to themselves (Naidoo and Wills 2008). There are still many people in the UK who do not fully benefit from the facilities of the NHS. People from ethnic minorities are not well served (Atkin et al 2004) nor are people with learning difficulties (Mencap 2004; DH 2009). As noted in the section on culture, this is a result of a variety of factors, including poor and inadequate communication, racism, disablism and lack of cultural sensitivity. In this section of the chapter we will examine two central models of disability – the individual model and the social model – to illustrate the ways in which underlying ideas and concepts can shape physiotherapy practice and wider medical and social policy. A model can be defined as a conceptual framework for understanding causal relationships. It usually lies within the framework of a broader theory (Brown 2009). Within every society there are competing models of disability, with some being more dominant than others at different times (Oliver 2004; Wilder 2006). In earlier centuries, for example, models of disability were based upon religion (Stiker 1997; Whalley Hammell 2006). Although often in conflict, models of disability may gradually influence and modify each other. The models put forward by powerful groups within society, such as the medical profession, tend to dominate the models of less powerful groups, such as disabled people themselves (Russell 1998; French and Swain 2008). It is essential to explore these models of disability, for attitudes and behaviour towards disabled people, policy, professional practice, and the running of institutions, including hospitals and rehabilitation centres, are based, at least in part, upon them. As Oliver (1993: 61) states:
Changing relationships for promoting health
Between people
Communication
Cultural differences
Context of relationships
Inequalities in health
Different models
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