This is worth running in full: a Letter to the Editor of the Warrnambool Standard from 15 February 2020.

It says it all.

Membership rejected:

“I recently applied to be a ‘Member’ at Lyndoch. The application form itself is a curiosity. It seeks no information re educational or professional qualifications or work or life experience. The form doesn’t require a witness. My application was peremptorily and summarily dismissed in what appears as one liner pro forma rejection letter.

I am a recently retired lawyer of nearly 40 years experience, previous AHPRA Board Member, previous Veterans Board Member, Supreme Court Registrar, Legal Consultant at a Royal Commission and so on.

Similarly my husband, a recently retired AFP Officer after 38 years of service including in Afghanistan was also rejected with the same wording from Lyndoch.

Has any member of the public not directly associated with Lyndoch been accepted as a member?

Is Lyndoch’s approach to bona fide member applications consistent with the requirements and expectations of the broader community whom Lyndoch purports to serve?”

Lynn Hudson, Warrnambool

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

In the past two years, Lyndoch Living spent more on lawyers, consultants and accountants than it did on food for residents.

In 2018 and 2019, Lyndoch shelled out an astonishing $2.318 million on accountants, lawyers and consultants, while it spent $2.194 million on food supplies.

In 2018, the gap between the two was especially stark, with less than $1 million spent on food supplies – $994,068 – compared with $1.238 million on accountants, lawyers and consultants.

Chew on that for a moment and I suspect you will feel the same sense of indigestion that came over me.

These unpalatable facts are among the many that fall out when you take a close look at Lyndoch’s financial statements – and a lot of terriers are now taking a good, hard look at the figures, both old and new.

This is how we know that in 2013 the food bill was $992,516, which is not that far off the $994,068 that was spent five years’ later.

Did I miss something? Has the cost of groceries gone down?

I can tell you that what residents pay to live in a nursing home has certainly not gone down nor stayed the same for the past five years.

If you are going to cut costs, surely as an aged care home you don’t start with the food bill?

Judging by the 2019 financials, there is plenty of fat to trim elsewhere, starting with administration costs and the ever-growing number of staff  in the corporate area (59 and counting).

Not surprisingly, the cost of food vs lawyers/consultants/auditors was not mentioned at the Lyndoch Living annual general meeting last October and we can only make the comparison now because of two things:

The full figures have finally been released via the Australian Charities and Not-for-Profits Commission, and, for the first time, legal fees and consultants’ fees have been published in the audited statements.

Speaking of auditors, wow, has that bill shot through the roof.

Last year, Lyndoch’s auditing costs tripled from $13,950 in 2018 to $48,500 in 2019, which is five times what Lyndoch paid for auditing in 2013 ($9800).

Lyndoch changed auditors from local firm McLaren Hunt (which used to be Coffey Hunt) and replaced them with RSM Australia.

Perhaps a stack more number crunching needed to be done because Lyndoch decided to become a company limited by guarantee, buy two medical centres and also the May Noonan nursing home in Terang (I will write more about the medical centres soon).

But even the auditors were paid small beans compared with the $2.25 million spent on lawyers and consultants in the past two years.

$2.25 million.

Oh my goodness, I really am in the wrong business.

This $2.25 million would include hiring consultants for the $100 million masterplan and to write the (secret) business plan for the new medical centre that Lyndoch intends to start building soon, even though it’s still not sure how much money it needs to borrow to pay for it.

The lawyers, I assume, would also have been hired to guide the masterplan, to set up Lyndoch Healthcare Pty Ltd, and to oversee how Lyndoch now operates as a company limited by guarantee.

There are also the less obvious fees, such as the solicitor “retained” to provide advice to the company secretary, who doesn’t have legal or accounting qualifications.

All of this – millions of dollars in consulting, legal, accounting and administration bills – is such a long, long way from where Lyndoch started as a much-loved, community owned facility for our aged to see out their final years in comfort.

Back in the beginning, people donated their time and their own money to make sure Lyndoch found its feet and this is why there remains such a strong, emotional connection between Warrnambool and our iconic aged care home.

The board needs to get that.

Lyndoch has to grow and keep up with the times, we all get that, but how it is growing – and at what cost – remains at the heart of this investigation and we will keep going.

More soon.

If you would like to see The Terrier keep digging, click on the link below to throw something in the tip jar.

Carol “Alice” Altmann – The Terrier

Take my hand and follow me into the strange, alternative world of Lyndoch Living Wonderland, a sparkly world with a lovely colour palette, and where a deficit is “a good result”.

Lyndoch has just posted its fourth deficit in the past five years, but according to those who sit at the big table, there is no need for concern.

(Caterpillar: I don’t know what they’re smokin’ over there in the boardroom, but I want to try it!)

What’s more, Lyndoch CEO Doreen Power, who was appointed in 2015, has announced – without so much as a twitch of an eye – that we can expect our largest, fully-booked aged care home to run at a loss for another two to three years.

This means that by 2022, Lyndoch will have run at a loss for six or possibly seven years out of the past eight.

(Cheshire Cat: keep smiling everyone, keep smiling! Oh blast, here comes Alice with her practical facts…)

In 2014, the year former CEO Rhys Boyle retired, Lyndoch was comfortably in the black and recorded a $901,214 surplus, which came on top of surpluses in 2012 and 2013.

Here are the figures since:

2015: $208,707 deficit

2016: $130,037 deficit

2017: $846,563 surplus

2018: $1,573,98 deficit 

2019: $398,356 deficit

I think this tells us pretty clearly that Lyndoch is living beyond its means – each year it is spending more than it makes – but somehow an almost $400,000 loss like last year is a “good result”.

No it isn’t. It’s a bad result.

(Mad Hatter: Oh Alice, anyone knows a good result is better than a bad result which is better than a worserer result. Pour me some tea!)

If we push aside the spin and boil it down to the absolute basics, Lyndoch has one important job to do, which is to care for our elderly and infirm, for which it receives money from the Federal Government, the State Government, live-in residents, clients and its own investments.

From all these things, Lyndoch last year received a total income of $38.9 million.

It spent $39.3 million, in other words, it went over its budget…again.

On top of this, Lyndoch also confirmed a slightly awkward piece of news, which The Terrier flagged back in October, which was $11.3 million was wiped off its assets after certain, unnamed buildings were re-valued using a different method that, from what I can see, used market prices.

This is like owning a house you thought was worth $12 million, only to be told it is actually worth $1 million.

(Mad Hatter: Oh who cares? $1 million, $12 million, it’s only on paper! Tear it up and start over! More tea?)

Have a big sip of whatever you are drinking, because now we wade deeper into the forest of figures in search of the bottom line.

In 2015, Lyndoch had total assets of $96.5 million – this is whole shopping cart: the properties, the cash, the residential bond money, the investments, the cups and saucers, cutlery and cars.

At the same time, it had expenses, or liabilities, of $27.7 million, leaving it with a bottom line of $68.7 million.

By 2019, Lyndoch had total assets of $98.9 million – (White Rabbit: clap, clap, wonderful, magnificent! Well done!) – but….it also had liabilities of $47.7 million, leaving it with a bottom line of $51.1m.

This means Lyndoch’s overall bottom line has fallen from $68.7 million to $51.1 million in just five years.

(White Rabbit: Oh. But the cash, dear Alice, what about the cash?)

Lyndoch has plenty of cash: $48.7 million in cash and other investments, except they can’t touch most of it – around $30 million from my reckoning – because it is tied up in residents’ bonds.

(White Rabbit: So I can’t spend it on a shiny new pocket watch? Damn.)

As we know, other things have changed dramatically in the past five years too, including just about every member of the executive team being replaced, from the Director of Nursing, to the Chief Financial Officer, to the Human Resources head, with more than 80 staff having gone elsewhere.

I have since been told by a strong source that my figures are wrong and it’s closer to 120 staff, but I can’t verify this.

(Queen of Hearts: At last, at last, my walk on part…Off with their heads, I say! Off with their heads! Strike up the trumpets!)

No wonder the board wasn’t keen to trumpet all of this news at the annual general meeting last October, where written questions from the public were ignored, because they were not members of Lyndoch.

Anyone who has since tried to become a member has been rejected.

(Queen of Hearts: Close the gates! Don’t let the rabble in!)

And the crazy making thing is that despite these worrying figures, Lyndoch is not tightening its belt, but going on a spending spree: a $100 million masterplan that includes buying two medical clinics for a cost of $1.6 million, including $1.3 million for the Warrnambool Medical Clinic, so it can move them to a medical clinic that it will build.

(Mad Hatter: And don’t forget the horse race! We want to go to the races, so we bought the race! Giddyup Dormouse!)

I am worried, dear citizens, that we who own Lyndoch are being dragged deep into this wonderland and we won’t be able to find our way out, which is why we have to keep going.

(Caterpillar: Ah, chill baby and pass me the pipe.)

If you would like to support the Terrier, you can throw something in the tip jar below. 

The Tip Jar

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

I have been asking this question for several months now, but what has Lyndoch Living got to hide?

The latest act of apparent paranoia is a blanket rejection of everyone who recently applied to become members of Lyndoch.

Not one person, it seems, made the cut.

Let’s be honest, my application was never going to be accepted, despite my own personal connection with Lyndoch as someone who had a parent in its care for 10 years, because I have made it clear through The Terrier that I intend to dig deep into its priorities, direction and its care for staff and residents.

But others have been rejected too.

In fact, from what I am hearing, those who had their applications rejected include a local GP, a retired business journalist, a former high school maths teacher, a former international school librarian, a former small business owner…

According to the Lyndoch board, not one of these people was considered up to scratch.

I am not sure what selection process was used, as the board is under no obligation to give its reasons for saying ‘no’, but the fact every single application was rejected suggests that there was no process.

Instead, it was most likely based on whether the applicant knew me, or liked The Terrier on Facebook, or commented on a story, because Lyndoch doesn’t want anyone creeping into the tent who may make life uncomfortable by asking tricky questions, or, heaven forbid, stand for the board.

That would mean a loss of control, and control, in the current climate at Lyndoch, is everything.

What we should have is a fully transparent organisation with a broad cross section of members – the more, the merrier – because Lyndoch is owned by the local community.

I will say it again: the community owns Lyndoch, not the small group of people who are now refusing to let anybody else in the door unless, it seems, they are hand-picked.

As it stands, there are just 16 members of Lyndoch, including the nine-member board, the CEO, some senior executive staff and a couple of life members.

This might be perfectly acceptable if other platforms of scrutiny had not been removed as part of recent changes to how Lyndoch operates.

These changes, of course, were approved by the existing members. Most of us didn’t even know it was happening, yet the way Lyndoch had operated for decades would be no more:

As of last year, the Lyndoch annual reports are no longer available online.

As of last year, the Lyndoch annual meetings are no longer advertised to the general public.

As of last year, vacancies on the Lyndoch board no longer have to be advertised.

We don’t even know, until Lyndoch is compelled to report to the Australian Charities and Not-for-Profits Commission later this month, whether it made a surplus or another deficit in 2019.

 

So much for being open and accountable to the community.

Inside the Lyndoch tent, the clamps are also coming down.

A new policy from the CEO Doreen Power prevents Lyndoch staff from approaching the board directly and declares all communication to the board must be made via the CEO.

Even then, staff can only talk to the board about policy matters.

Again, this might be fine except for when, hypothetically speaking, the problem is with the CEO.

What does a troubled staff member do then?

Well, they might come to The Terrier, where there is at least a place to be heard outside of the Lyndoch cabal.

As readers know, a lot of people concerned about Lyndoch have come to The Terrier to talk about all manner of things.

This includes the on-going shortage of staff – with one RN on night duty across the whole of Lyndoch – or the shortage of linen that saw staff cutting up old towels to use as face washers.

Or they have come with concerns around the huge number of staff that had left the organisation in the past four years – up to 80 people from right across Lyndoch, with many leaving distressed and disheartened.

Or they are worried about how Lyndoch could afford to buy two existing medical centres and have the funds to build and operate a brand new medical centre when, at the end of the day, it is supposed to be focussed solely on looking after the frail.

These are all good questions that deserve to be fully scrutinised and, with your help, that is exactly what I will continue to do in 2020.

Did you apply to become a member of Lyndoch? Send me a message to tell me how you fared. If you would like to apply, here is the form.

If you would like to help keep the Terrier typing, please throw something in the tip jar below. 

The Tip Jar

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

A couple of weeks ago, Lyndoch Living hired a Melbourne consultant to survey staff and unearth whether, essentially, any of the issues raised here these past six weeks are true.

The online survey, which closed at 5.30pm today, is at least an acknowledgement by Lyndoch that it can’t ignore the stream of allegations around its workplace culture, but I have little confidence that it will reveal very much at all.

Why? Because I doubt many staff will be brave enough to respond, or to answer openly.

First, the Survey Monkey survey is intended to be confidential, yet so many people within Lyndoch that I have spoken to are nervous that as it was sent to their Lyndoch email address, it could be traceable.

Second, the “confidential” survey asks what area of Lyndoch the staff member works in.

Thirdly, the “confidential” survey asks if anyone has an “extensive issue” that they would like “someone” (who??) to call them about, or to see them about, to please provide their contact details.

Finally, just days after this survey was sent out, Lyndoch board chair Kerry Nelson issued a statement to all staff which emphasised the board’s full support for Lyndoch CEO Doreen Power.

Ms Power, at the end of the day, is responsible for any workplace issues which could be flushed out by the survey.

In other words, before nervous staff have even spoken up via the survey, the person who is ultimately in charge has been absolved by the board of any responsibility.

Given all of the above, would you fill out this survey without fear or favour?

What Lyndoch still struggles to grasp is that the allegations around Lyndoch are not from one or two disgruntled staff who have turned to a journalist, but a stream of people who have come to me as their last resort.

I didn’t approach these people – they approached me and they continue to approach me, because they no longer trust the internal workings of Lyndoch to listen, to protect, to nurture and to restore their faith in their workplace.

It’s exactly what happened around the misuse and abuse of credit cards within the Warrnambool City Council, when whistleblowers pushed information to me because they no longer trusted the internal systems, and no bloody wonder.

The council, in its newfound transparent culture, has hounded those who it believes “leaked” information, rather than ask why information was passed on in the first place, or be grateful to those who had the courage to do so.

It’s the same attitude behind Lyndoch threatening dismissal of staff members who express an opinion on The Terrier Facebook page or, heaven help them, clicks “like”.

I can only say to the Lyndoch board and executive: wake up and smell the coffee.

Instead of spending time and money on Survey Monkey, public relations spin, and hunting down staff who click on The Terrier, the board and executive should be diving deep to build respect, empathy and trust.

The first step should be the appointment of an experienced, independent reviewer who can take the time to conduct private, in-depth, face-to-face interviews, off site from Lyndoch.

The second should be the board insisting on summaries of staff exit interviews, which I can only assume doesn’t happen already.

And the third is creating a culture not of  “yes, sir, no, sir, three-bags-full-sir” but which encourages the question of “why?”

The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Victoria, the Honourable Anne Ferguson, recently spoke about the need for a “questioning” workplace culture as an essential part of a healthy and safe work environment.

And as Lyndoch is community owned, it is not just the staff who should be encouraged to ask questions, but all of us, with an expectation of answers.

Yet, after six weeks of my hammering on the door of Lyndoch, there are still so many questions:

about staff turnover, horse race sponsorship, the racing corporate marquee, the $100 million masterplan, the “state of the art” medical clinic, staff shortages, why there is still only one Registered Nurse on night duty for 200 residents, board selection, the new constitution, core values, contracts, equipment, and corporate cars (which I haven’t even got to yet)….

We still don’t even know whether Lyndoch made a surplus or deficit last financial year.

So while Nero tunes up his fiddle on Hopkins Rd, we will rest, regroup and we will keep pressing on, after Christmas and New Year, until we have the answers.

Thankyou to every single person who has helped the Foxy Fighting Fund. If you would like to make a small contribution, you can do so below.

The Foxy Fighting Fund