No tender called for $24 million Lyndoch Living medical clinic

The Tomlinson dementia centre at Lyndoch was razed in March to make way for a $24m medical clinic, with construction to start soon.

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

A short post tonight:

I recently learned that the $24 million medical clinic being built at Lyndoch Living did not go to tender.

I asked Lyndoch for comment on why it did not put the biggest project in its 69 year history out to tender so it could comfortably know it had received the best possible value for money.

There was no response from the Lyndoch chair.

There was no response from the Lyndoch media unit on behalf of the executive.

More than 1000 people are now asking questions about the purpose and financial viability of this medical clinic project, but no answers have been forthcoming.

You know, I used to fear that the Warrnambool community would lose control of Lyndoch, but it already has.

It lost control, without knowing it, almost three years ago to the day – 31 July 2018 – when the board and three other members of Lyndoch voted to tear up the old association rules that had been in place for decades, and become a company.

Lyndoch Living Inc became Lyndoch Living Limited.

It has not advertised publicly to fill a board vacancy since.

Under the new rules, it doesn’t have to. It could, but it chooses not to.

It has also not accepted a single membership application from the general public: even the current Mayor Vicki Jellie AM was rejected.

It has not publicly advertised its AGM since because under the new rules, it doesn’t have to. It could, but it chooses not to.

Snap, just like that, Warrnambool lost control of its aged care home and the right to have any meaningful input into its future.

The new constitution that governs Lyndoch Living Limited is being used to keep you quiet: we are the constrained without consent.

That’s all you need to know.

[I have turned comments off on this post, because Lyndoch Living is sending me lawyers’ letters; this time it’s not about my words, but yours. Lyndoch has access to ongoing and considerable funds to launch legal claims on behalf of individuals. I don’t. Given this, I am turning off all comments on Lyndoch pieces for the time being.]




Revolving door at W’bool Med Clinic since changing hands

The Warrnambool Medical Clinic has seen an almost complete change in staffing in the past two years under its new owners.

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

The change in ownership for the Warrnambool Medical Clinic has seen a huge change in staff since it was sold for $1.3m to Lyndoch Living in 2019.

It’s a little over 12 months since the clinic lost its practice manager – its chief administrator – who resigned after a decade in the job.

I have since learned that around 20 more staff have left the practice since then, including two GPs who resigned in recent weeks.

Two other GPs, you may recall, resigned immediately after Lyndoch Living took control of the practice in April 2019.

According to my sources, there is now only one nurse at the practice who has been there longer than 12 months, and another eight have resigned.

At least six reception staff have also left.

Not all the positions have been replaced.

What has happened, though, is a mirror of what has happened at Lyndoch Living itself these past five years: a balloon in the number of people with special titles.

Where there was once a single practice manager, there is now:

a Project Director Integrated Primary Health;

a Project co-ordinator Primary Care;

an Operations Manager Primary Health Care and;

a Practice nurse Clinical Lead.

It’s worth remembering that Lyndoch Living paid $1.3 million in 2019 to buy the “goodwill” of Warrnambool Medical Clinic, which means GPs on contract, staff and patient lists.

It didn’t pay $1.3 million for the actual building on the corner of Liebig St and Raglan Parade.

Given the high turnover of staff since then, and anecdotal evidence of patients transferring elsewhere, I can only ponder how much of that $1.3 million worth of “goodwill” still remains intact.

As for the building itself, the Standard’s Jackson Graham is reporting today that it is up for sale at an expected price of $1.2m to $1.3m.

According to the report, Lyndoch Living has a lease on the building until June 2022.

That is a mere 12 months away.

This might explain why Lyndoch is barrelling ahead with plans to build its new $24 million, 3000 sq/m medical clinic on Hopkins Rd, despite concerns around the financial viability of the project.

As we know, the Lyndoch board is continuing to refuse to explain how the clinic will be funded, how many tenants are locked in, and – most importantly – how much money it will create for the care of elderly residents.

At a cost of around $24 m, this project is even bigger than the new Warrnambool library at $20m but, unlike that project, it doesn’t have one cent of government funding.

The strange thing is, for less than $3 million, Lyndoch could have bought the Warrnambool Medical Clinic building AND all of its goodwill and maybe spent another couple of million bucks refurbishing what is a prime piece of real estate.

A $5 million investment sounds a lot less risky than $24 million.

As it is, that prime piece of real estate is now up for grabs and Danny Harris, the selling agent, says – wait for it – it would make an ideal medical clinic.




Union action sees scabies outbreak confirmed at Lyndoch

Lyndoch Living has a confirmed outbreak of scabies in its Audrey Prider Centre.

Exclusive

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

I am technically taking a break, but some stories can’t wait until the new year, and this is one of them – a confirmed outbreak of scabies in the Audrey Prider Centre at Lyndoch Living.

What a Christmas gift to residents in APC, which is a high-care dementia wing and home to some of the most vulnerable people in Lyndoch aged care.

The scabies diagnosis confirms what Lyndoch nursing staff and some residents’ families have long suspected, with a nasty rash coming and going through APC for months and months.

Lyndoch management finally brought in skin specialist Dr Werner Sinclair on 5 December and he has since issued a formal diagnosis of scabies for at least two residents.

I understand that up to eight residents are now potentially affected by what is a highly contagious infestation.

But this diagnosis by Dr Sinclair didn’t just happen.

It followed an intervention by the Australian Nursing and Midwifery Federation on behalf of nursing staff who were sick to death of being fobbed off.

As reported by The Terrier, the union wrote a letter to Lyndoch on 27 November demanding answers on whether there had been any suspected or confirmed cases of scabies in APC in the past six months and, if so, what had been done about it.

Some of its members, the union wrote, had been “actively treated” for suspected scabies, as had some residents, but nursing staff were “of the view” that they were not to talk about it with residents’ families, or each other.

The ANMF was also told by its members that “minimal infection control measures” had been put in place.

If what the union says is correct, this is pure damage control, if not a cover up.

One thing is certain, and that is that it took the union to put a rocket up the backside of Lyndoch about this outbreak and to bring in the experts.

This begs the bigger and more important question of why?

Why must it take the intervention of a union to see the immediate welfare of residents and staff in Audrey Prider Centre shoot to the very top of Lyndoch’s priorities?

And if the union had not intervened, would the outbreak have ever been formally diagnosed and responded to? Or would the itch just go on?

The families of some of those infected are absolutely furious by what has unfolded.

Their stories are ones of confusion and misinformation.

One woman said she learned of her mother’s scabies via a phone call from Lyndoch last Monday – December 14 – by which time her family had been to visit her mother several times and been potentially exposed.

In another case, a family member of an APC resident who is being treated for scabies, has scabies.

While scabies is not deadly, it causes an intense, almost maddening itch from tiny, burrowing mites that get under the victim’s skin.

Treatment is via either oral medication or an external lotion applied all over the body.

According to a document sent to me, Lyndoch is using the services of an infection control consultant – Victorian Infection Prevention Services – to help manage its outbreak.

Bulk supplies of one lotion, Benzemul, have been brought it to protect APC nursing staff, who were urged to start applying the lotion to themselves as of last Monday, 14 December.

It’s understood residents are also being treated with a lotion.

To contain the outbreak, APC staff must also wear long sleeves and gloves when dealing with infected residents, wash their hands after every resident contact, and dispose of all used linen immediately into a laundry skip rather than carrying it.

Scabies, to put it bluntly, is a bastard of a thing to catch, and to contain.

And all of this comes to light as the Lyndoch Living executive gathers tonight for its Christmas break up. I hope they are having a good time, because those with the scabies are certainly not.

I emailed the Lyndoch CEO Doreen Power, chair Susan Cassidy, and the Lyndoch media unit at 11am this morning for comment. I will update this piece if any comment is provided.




Shrinking or growing? Crunching the numbers on Lyndoch

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

Lyndoch Living is definitely getting bigger, but is it getting better? The numbers say no.

The reason I keep writing a lot about our community-owned aged care home is to put on the public record what is happening under the change of leadership and change of direction since 2015.

It’s important that we – as the community who own Lyndoch – keep track of what is going on, because nobody else is telling us.

We are the custodians of Lyndoch and the community will be here way past whoever happens to be in charge, so yes, we need to keep track of what is going on.

We owe it to Lyndoch, the residents, the staff, and those who helped create Lyndoch more than 50 years ago.

This is why tonight I am running this little chart, because it captures how Lyndoch is travelling financially.

It shows that before 2015, Lyndoch ran at a small profit/surplus or was break even.

This year, it posted its biggest loss – close to $2 million.

Lyndoch has run at a loss for five of the past six years. From my research, this is unprecedented in recent times.

At the same time, its assets have gone up, but so have expenses – they have more than doubled.

This has meant a $20m cut to its net assets in just six years.

Is this visionary? It is sustainable? And why, when it comes to cost cutting, do we hear of cuts at the coalface, and not in the corporate?

Speaking of which, it’s worth remembering that the very first thing to happen under the $100m masterplan now being rolled out by Lyndoch was an upgrade of the corporate area.

Out with former CEO Rhys Boyle’s old wooden furniture and in with the fingerprint resistant glass table.

We still don’t know how much that corporate re-vamp cost but it was an early sign of the shifting priorities.

We still don’t know, exactly, how much the Swinton Wing re-vamp and extension cost, but estimates are it blew out by $2m to $13 million.

And coming up next is a new two-storey medical clinic to be built next to Scoborio Reserve with, it is said, radiology, pathology, acute care and educational facilities alongside up to 20 GPs.

Lyndoch will bulldoze Tomlinson Wing and its gardens to make way for more glass and cement.

How much will that all cost to build and set up? We don’t know.

Is this all necessary? Is it all sustainable?

These are the questions I would like to ask the board – our eyes and ears at the table – and I am sure you would like to ask too.

In the face of their silence, we just keep pressing.




Illegal signage illuminates bigger issues at Lyndoch

The illuminated Lyndoch Living sign installed – illegally – on the Swinton Wing building by Cassign.

Carol Altmann – The Terrier

Update: Turns out the new, swish piece of illuminated corporate branding at Lyndoch Living is illegal – there is no permit for this sign to be installed on the side of Swinton Wing.

As readers know, this sign, which is bright-white at night (disclaimer: I live not far away, but these photos were taken by another nearby resident), was installed last week by Cassign, which is the business owned and operated by the husband of the new Lyndoch board chair, Sue Cassidy.

We still don’t know if all the signage works undertaken by Cassign at Lyndoch Living these past months went to tender (Steve Moore, did you have any luck finding out?), but I do know that there is no council permit for this one.

This means a permit must be sought retrospectively from the Warrnambool City Council.

How does Lyndoch think it can get away with it?

Meanwhile, as the corporatisation of Lyndoch rolls on, I continue to get calls and emails and messages every second day from families worried about staff shortages, staff exhaustion and the impact of both on some residents.

Yes, yes, we all know these complaints can be taken here, and reported there, but what happens as a result? Nothing.

Nothing seems to change and the staff become more tired, and families of those residents affected become more frustrated.

I know not all families are affected and we all know that Lyndoch’s hard working staff do the very best they can, but the resignations keep coming – from the nursing staff to those working at Waterfront Living.

I hear about them all, and I despair that nothing happens to fix it and turn things around.

All I see is more corporate branding, more executive appointments, more staff surveys, and fluff stories about Lyndoch trying to win awards.

Who will step up? Who is going to step forward and say, enough of this?

This whole story is much bigger than a sign on a building, but that illegal, unnecessary and expensive sign – to me – sums up the changing priorities of Lyndoch Living, the arrogance, and a corporate culture that cares more about image than substance.

We own Lyndoch, we must never forget that, but we have lost control of its destiny and we no longer recognise its soul and I am not sure how we can reconnect with both, but every time I speak to those families and workers who are in the thick of it, I know we have to keep trying.