For the past two years, I've been diligently writing in my journal almost every day. One of the most frequent topics I find myself writing about is the support workers who are an essential part of my daily routine. Living alone with my dog, Ziva, I rely on support workers who visit four times a day, making them a significant presence in my life.

Reflecting on my journey, I remember the first kind of support workers I encountered as a child living at Regency Park Centre, a facility for children with disabilities. Back then, they were referred to as "feeders," a term that might seem surprising today. These individuals would come into the residence and work one-on-one with a child, providing the extra support needed for morning and evening routines. Although there were nurses available throughout the day to assist with personal care, the feeders were assigned to children who required more focused attention. I was one of those children, and each feeder would work with the same child consistently.

Fortunately, by the time I transitioned from Regency Park Centre to an independent training house, the title had evolved to "care attendant." This change in terminology coincided with my journey towards independence, where I learned to live with the assistance of care attendants for just five hours a day, without the constant presence of nurses.

As I eventually moved into my own place, the terminology shifted once more, and these dedicated individuals became known as "support workers." I find this term to be the most fitting, as it truly encapsulates the role they play in my life. Over the years, I've worked with over 700 support workers, typically having a team of five to ten at any given time. These individuals have come into my home to assist with personal care and other daily tasks, making a significant impact on my ability to live independently.

[I have used AI tools in writing of this blog post to better convey my original ideas and perspectives.]