Social Work Stories: Starting Out

I started out as a social worker in a community care team. The first person I was ever allocated to work with was Phillip, who had been a professional tap dancer and had photographs of his career all over his small high rise flat.

Black and white photographs of a younger Phillip in black paton tap shoes and a full top coat and tails with a number of glittering celebrities.

I remember being out somewhere together, Phillip striding purposefully with his cane and jaunty fedora. He was reflecting warmly on an entertainment memory declaring, "ah there was no business like show".

Phillip lived alone, had no living family and a diagnosis of dementia. He kept his funeral plan on top of his tv, reminding me of it whenever I visited.

His condition deteriorated quickly and he soon began spending a lot of time in bed with home carers going in. When I visited he was often confused. His grief at his condition manifested in anger and he had no qualms at expressing this anger to me, to the home carers, to the world.

I now recognise that this was part of the process of dementia. A process that needed to include loss, grief and anger. And Phillip had such show biz charisma that he even managed to be angry with great style.

I was with Phillip when he died in the hospital. He had lost consciousness before I arrived. I was so naive about death and dying that I arrived with lucozade and sweets for him as he was in his very final stages of death. A nurse said very kindly that he would not be needing those.

I had no real idea what I was doing, however felt incredibly privileged to be there with Phillip at the end of his life and consider him to be a legend. And he was right, I was glad of that funeral plan. #socialworkstories #startattheverybeginning #braveasfuck.