Carol Altmann – The Terrier
This week will be a reckoning for aged care across Australia and I can hope it blows the lid right off what is a national disgrace.
We only have to look at our own neck of the woods to see how little official outrage there is to what should be unacceptable.
It’s more than two months since The Terrier revealed an outbreak of scabies within Lyndoch Living, our much-loved, community-owned aged care home in Warrnambool.
When whistleblowers revealed scabies in a Whyalla nursing home last November, A Current Affair and a South Australian MP were on the doorstep demanding answers.
It’s also more than a year since I wrote about staff tearing up sheets and towels to use as facewashers, and more money being spent on consultants and lawyers than on food for residents.
More than a year has passed since I revealed a family member of a resident was sleeping on the floor next to her mother for seven days because her mother had had a series of falls and there was not enough staff to keep an eye on her.
At the same time, Lyndoch senior staff, right up to the CEO, and senior board members, were attending the May Races.
It’s also a year since a leaked copy of a staff survey revealed serious allegations of bullying and intimidation at Lyndoch that went right to the very top.
It’s well over a year since I first wrote about the steady stream of staff who were leaving Lyndoch, sometimes after decades of service, because of alleged bullying, being “targeted”, or given little option to resign and – if they are lucky – given a payout to sweeten the blow. I call it “keep quiet” money.
Is that sort of thing still happening? Yes.Yes, it is.
It’s eight months since we learned two architects from Melbourne were visiting Lyndoch Living despite the “ring of steel” Covid-19 lockdown in that city.
Lyndoch denied they were even from Melbourne.
It’s 18 months since we learned that the community was no longer welcome to become members of Lyndoch: every single membership application from the general community has been rejected, including that of our now Mayor Vicki Jellie.
Board member positions are no longer advertised.
The annual general meeting is no longer advertised.
Has there been an outcry from the board at this lack of inclusion? No.
Regardless, we have still unpicked the fact that Lyndoch has recorded a series of deficits these past five years and will borrow money from residential bonds (as the current laws allow it to do), to fund its $100 million masterplan.
We also recently learned, thanks to two former Lyndoch workers who peeled back the lid, that Lyndoch was gobbling up to 44 per cent in management fees for home care packages.(Again, the laws currently allow these fees.)
And this still doesn’t touch on what I haven’t been able to publish, because Lyndoch is litigious and I have to pick my way through a minefield to report even this much.
Our local political leaders know about most – if not all – of the above. Some of them have even met personally with those directly affected.
And yet, perhaps despite the best of intentions, nothing has come of it.
That may change after this week.
This week will see the public release of the findings of the Royal Commission into Aged Care and the federal government’s initial responses.
The sad and infuriating story of what people are expected to “put up with” – as aged care residents, aged care staff, the residents families and the wider community – will be laid bare.
It will no doubt emphasise the need for better staffing ratios, better pay, better training and working conditions, better scrutiny of those in positions of responsibility, greater transparency around funding and fees, and why aged care residents should never been seen as “customers”.
But I also hope this inquiry exposes why so many people connected to aged care feel disempowered from speaking up and out about what they know, because they fear the repercussions.
I can tell you that fear and silence around Lyndoch Living is very real, even if not everyone is touched by it.
I know it, several GPs around Warrnambool know it, several lawyers around Warrnambool know it. Our local MPs know it. The families and friends of those directly affected know it.
The release of the Royal Commission findings is our chance as a whole community to speak up for those who can’t do so themselves.
This was the promise the community made to Lyndoch when it was first built more than 60 years ago: first and foremost it would protect and care for the elderly and frail, and those who look after them.
Now is the time to make good on that promise.
New posts straight your inbox? Free here.
Carol Altmann – The Terrier
If there was ever a picture of how Lyndoch Living is losing touch with its priorities, it is this one.
This is a linen shelf that should be stacked with towels, sheets and face washers that is almost empty half way through a shift.
This is allegedly not unusual, despite Lyndoch – a charity – getting geared up to spend millions of dollars to build a “super clinic” on its Hopkins Rd site as part of a $100 million masterplan.
Unbelievably, some nursing staff are cutting up old towels to use as flannels for showering and freshening up residents – sorry, they are now called consumers – rather than rely on the back-up of wet wipes.
Other staff are hiding linen on Fridays so they have enough towels, sheets and face washers to get through the weekend.
Has it really come to this, you ask? Yes it has, and we need to know about it.
Lyndoch – a charity – has also just signed on to again sponsor the Grand Annual Steeplechase (at a cost of what, $70,000? $80,000?), yet a machine used to pulp cardboard urinal bottles has been out of action for months.
This means the cardboard bottles are carried by nurses across a dining room to another machine for disposal.
These are just some of the cracks that start to appear when a short-staffed system is under rising stress, and, my word, we need to know about it.
In recent years Lyndoch has somehow lost sight of its core business, which is caring for the aged and infirm both in the nursing home and in-home care.
To most residents, this means tasty, nourishing food, having someone to talk to, and being cared for by nursing staff with the time, support and full resources to do their jobs properly.
This should be the number one and only priority for any aged care home, especially Lyndoch.
Lyndoch, we need to remember, is a not-for-profit, benevolent, charitable organisation that was set up more than 60 years ago by the Warrnambool community for the community.
We ultimately own Lyndoch, but it is run by a board on our behalf who, in turn, hire the CEO.
Lyndoch has plenty of money to fulfil its core business, receiving almost $30 million last year in government funds and another $6.1 million from client fees, with net assets worth $51.2 million.
You would think that every dollar would be directed toward the care and comfort of residents, including hiring and keeping quality nursing staff who are paid well, treated well and given all the resources they need to do their jobs well.
But no.
Instead, as I wrote last week, the staff are run off their feet and even when they do the best they can – like cut up towels for face washers – it is not enough.
At the same time, the Lyndoch board and CEO Doreen Power are pressing on with a $100 million masterplan, including borrowing money to build a multi-million dollar medical clinic on site for GPs, dental services and a chemist that nobody has proven is wanted or needed.
And at the same time, the number of admin staff at Lyndoch – a charity – has ballooned in the past three years from 37 to 59, with many having titles straight out of an episode of Utopia:
Director of People and Resilience; Social Inclusion and Entrepreneurial Manager; Operational Support and Improvement Manager; Project Manager Safety and Wellness.
All of those soapy titles and yet the culture is turning toxic and staff morale is sliding to rock bottom.
And then there is a revolving door of consultants who, between them, cost thousands for their expert advice.
I wish I could tell you exactly how much is being spent on consultants, but Lyndoch is yet to release its full financial figures and, given its new-found secrecy around such things, I doubt we will find the answers there.
Lots of really wonderful people work at Lyndoch and terrific things happen there as a result of their efforts, but I also know that so many are struggling to hold it all together.
We can either hold our head in hands, or we can actually hold the Lyndoch board to account and ask “what is being done about it?”
Chair Kerry Nelson has not responded to my questions. There is silence from all the other board members: Sue Cassidy, Ron Page, Peter Downs, Lorraine Mielnik, Percy Eccles, Kane Grant and Andrew Paton.
Are they so bedazzled by Ms Power’s “big vision” that they are not asking the tough questions? Do any board members or Ms Power ever wander down to chat with nursing staff and ask how they are managing?
As I understand it, some nursing staff have never met the CEO after almost five years.
I have never met the CEO and she will not return my calls or my emails, so – again – I can’t tell you Ms Power’s response to any of the above.
This silence is familiar territory to me, but just as with the Warrnambool City Council credit card scandal, I am slowly building a picture and the questions will keep coming because the community created Lyndoch, we care for Lyndoch and we have every right to know what is really going on.
More soon.
If you would like to support the work of The Terrier, please consider throwing something in the tip jar.