Mother of a 17-year-old son with disabilities claims the new Regulation on Assessing Needs for Personal Assistance did not introduce the promised individual approach, but everything boiled down to filling out forms administratively.
"You can't put life into a table and expect to turn it into a zero or a ten." With these words, Suzana Rešetar, mother of 17-year-old Ivan, who has a disability, and head of the Sjena association, describes her experience with the committee assessment in the process of exercising the right to personal assistance. Instead of gaining insight into real needs, she encountered what she calls mere compliance with administrative formalities.
The new Regulation on Assessing Needs for Personal Assistance, adopted in line with the Constitutional Court's decision, was supposed to introduce an individual approach. The assessment was no longer to be based solely on diagnosis, but also on the actual living conditions and needs of the user. In practice, Rešetar claims, everything remained the same. An orientation list of questions was introduced, filled out before the committee, and the decision is based on the total points.
"That's just ticking boxes. I don't know how else to put it," Rešetar told Zadarski list. The committee consisted of a social worker and a psychologist who saw her family for the first time. "They see us for the first time, they don't know our life, they have no idea what to ask us. That should be an orientation list so you know where to start. But in reality, it's the entire conversation," she explained.
She estimates her son's needs at around 420 hours per month, including time spent at the institution. She fears that the final decision might grant fewer hours than the family truly needs. "How can I fit my life into your question so you can write zero or ten? You can't put life into a table," she said angrily.
The family received a proposal to move Ivan, who is on the verge of adulthood, to the Dubrava Center for Education and Upbringing. Rešetar refuses because she lacks sufficient information about the conditions and program. "I can't agree to him going to a center where I know conditions are poor. I want to know who will work with him and what they'll do," she stressed. As a temporary solution, she proposed half-day care, but she received no concrete information about that either.
She was further alarmed when they responded to her inquiries that staff were on annual leave. "We have a social welfare institution that has no plan for emergencies. So, if I died tomorrow, they couldn't take Ivan in because they're on vacation," she said. She emphasizes that her child needs more than just accommodation and meals: "My child isn't going there for a bed and a meal; he needs a plan and a program of activities."
The situation is further complicated by the fact that Rešetar is due for surgery in two weeks, and she doesn't know who will take over Ivan's care. As a parent caregiver, she has the right to sick leave, but the system has no provision for a substitute. "My husband can't take sick leave for Ivan because I'm his parent caregiver. So, we can only cheat the system, which we don't want to do. I announced my sick leave in June, and no one from the system has responded yet. I'm afraid they won't. I'll go on sick leave without help and close it out; that's how it will be," she recounted.
She submitted the application for a personal assistant on December 30, 2025. After that came a reminder, an appeal to the Ministry, and after the legal deadline expired, proceedings before the Administrative Court due to administrative silence. Time passes, procedures repeat, and concrete help is lacking. Her husband, who is 54, is exhausted from constant care, as is she. "We can't go on anymore. Ivan is an adult now; we need an extra pair of hands," Rešetar concluded.
