Waugh? What is it good for? Absolutely nothing

Received a response from Simon Waugh (SW), Board Chair, Sloven Health this afternoon. That it came by email is about the best thing I can say about it. Selectively copied in to the cc list (bypassing Katie Razzall, Newsnight and JusticeforLB headquarters).

Brief context: We had questions, Katrina Percy refused to answer them, SW answered them Sept 17 2014. In a really crap way. In such a crap way I arranged to talk with him on the phone (23.9) convinced he wasn’t really up to speed with what was happening under his watch.

The big conversation back in September? A mistake really other than the occasional droplet of insight. We’ve continually shot ourselves in the foot and made ourselves look as incompetent and uncaring as possible. Er, yep. The truth is simple. His care was not what it should have been. Yep. SW also said he’d learned to reflect about being on the receiving end of letters from him in his capacity as Board Chair and think about what it must be like to receive such a letter (does it help or does it widen the gap?). Good stuff. (Though this was in connection with sending my sis a letter meant for another patient, rather than real reflective stuff about the content and meaning of what you write).

Unfortunately, these drops were obliterated by a drill hammer communication style, clearly aided by a set of key points) that looped across the two hour conversation (LB was fab, fit and able, staff forgot he was a patient, Sloven appear crap (but ain’t really) and there are valid excuses (or cliches) for everything). Once the repetition became apparent, it was a really uncomfortable conversation.

A couple of examples of the excuses:

Sloven didn’t dive into the unit to see that the hell was going on when a “fab, fit and able” young man died unexpectedly in the bath [he died?] because the police told them not to. Mmm. Not sure about that SW. How come the CQC could just pitch up and inspect weeks later?

“Well you’re damned if you and damned if you don’t”, was the slightly tetchy non answer. Followed up by a seedy little attempt to lay the beyond appalling CQC failings as having occurred in the six weeks or so after LB died. That pesky cleaner walked out 10 days before the inspection… [at several points during this conversation I wondered if I would experience long term effects from the sickening rage it generated.]

The second example involves the other patients in STATT. SW wrote that “unfortunately” STATT patients were unable to attend LB’s funeral because of “the family’s understandable restrictions on staff attending”. Not true, I said. I explained how we wanted staff not directly related to LB’s care to bring them. Bluster bluster.. SW meant the other patients’ families thought their relatives weren’t in the right mental state to attend. Oh. Why didn’t you write that then? I asked. Puff, huff and puffenstuffen, Dr Ryan. He couldn’t possibly include every line he wanted to include in the letter. It would be impossible.

Another damned if you do and damned if you don’t situ. Clearly.

So, back to today. The emailed reply. First of all he attached the letter sent on Sept 17th for the partial cc list to read. The fudged and fake responses letter. That is pretty crap. He reiterated the fact we’ve refused to meet across two paragraphs. Yep. With regard to staff disciplinary actions apparently the final one is part-heard and will be completed shortly. Mmm. (17 Sept letter “The final hearings for the remaining investigations are scheduled to be completed in the coming weeks”. 23 Sept phone call, staff disciplines will be completed “in the next 2/3 weeks”.)  There have been no delays with the second Verita investigation and the incredibly insensitively timed email, sent on 23rd December, wasn’t sent by the Trust’s solicitor. Even though it, er, was.

Wow. Mr Waugh. That stuff about reflecting on letters sent, foot shooting and incompetence (or worse)… ? You got a bit of a waugh to go, I’m afraid.

The footy guy nights

old pics (2)

Most evenings, sitting in the front room, I end up looking at the floor. And think about LB. And spaces. Wow. He did a number on spaces. Occupying different spaces within our space. Like sleeping on the Billy bookcase as a tot. Or hanging out in the swing bin. Now that sort of space isn’t occupied it’s odd/hard to remember it ever was. Who lies on their side on the living room floor? Across years…

Back in the day, the footy guy nights were a pretty unremarked upon part of family life. Like so much other stuff. Absorbed into our ‘normal’.

old picsI look at the floor and wonder how he fitted. With Chunky Stan, and the Playmobile audience. It’s a tiny space really.

There was no guessing when the box of ‘footy guys’, goal and makeshift ball would appear. In a seamless and low key celebratory joining in of a mainstream footy event. In his own way. How the hell did he fit in that tiny space?

He sort of studiously ignored the match on TV. Applying sometimes silent, focused concentration on his match. Remarkable really as footy fell outside his typical interests. At the same time, he was fully engaged in the moment. Some of the real time match entered his commentary but his match had its own dynamic. And own moments. LB was no slave to premier antics. old pics (3)

I loved these footy guy nights. I loved his absorption in the match, played out with a ball made of scrunched up paper and Sellotape (made after the original tiny ball went missing). I also loved (without realising it at the time), how everyone fitted around him. Picking across the guys to sit down. Respecting his engagement.

LB kept his footy guys in a Spongebob box. The goal and ball were stored in an old CCTV camera box. Which doubled as the second goal. Everything carefully packed and stored in his room until the next time.

I photographed this one evening. I don’t know why. Or why that night. January 29 2011. He was 16. Capturing a school boy. Absorbed in doing something he loved.

As he should be.

old pics (1)

 

Paint your wagon and other songs

In addition to the delay I banged on about in the previous post, I found out from NHS England this week that Sloven staff disciplinary processes are continuing. In Sloven time. On the midnight train to never never land. I’ve had this conversation several times now. It sort of sits at a junction between Tedious as fuck and Off the scale of outrageous. With a backdrop of Howl mountain.

‘What can we do?’ I asked the bearer of no news. Gnawing on the handset.
‘Nothing really’, was the answer.
‘There must be someone we can contact to say ‘This delay is unacceptable for everyone, can you do something about it?”
‘Not anymore, the only person really is the Board Chair’.

A heartsink statement given my 2 hour conversation with ‘Mr In Denial’/’Mr Kept in the Dark’ (sadly not ‘Mr Know it all’) a few months ago.  Anyway. I sucked it up, fired off a letter with the keyboard smoking, and copied it to pretty much the whole world in his hands. Including Jezza, Norm, Si, Davie B and KP too.

I was chatting to Little Sis Sam earlier and she said how outrageous it was that we’re having to do this. Yep. And how awful it must be for families who haven’t been able to meet with the various people we have. Yep. Bit of a double edged sword really, she said.

More triple edged really. If that’s possible.

1. We shouldn’t have to do it.
2. It stinks that some families have more traction than others in trying to get accountability.
3. What has actually happened?

Those wagons are firmly circled.

As the old growler sang;

Mud can make you prisoner
And the plains can bake you dry
Snow can burn your eyes
But only people make you cry…

image (3)

Delay and inhumanity

Found out earlier the disciplinary process for the staff member we referred is delayed. Again. An extension has been granted for additional time to read through records. We referred this person in May 2013.

“I’m not being funny”, I said, on the phone, “But all this delay stuff is always on the part of the system; the Department of Health, the NHS, the CCG, the local authority. And it impacts on families who are utterly devastated. Crushed by the process. And who have nothing to answer to. We’re 20 months on from LB’s death and no accountability. Just waiting. On wait.”

How can this possibly be?

No real answer. Though very apologetic engagement.

delay

On the bus home I read this tweet. And again my brain screamed there’s simply no excuse to delay any part of the process of accountability. It’s the absolute minimum that should be done when you’ve got something so catastrophically wrong. I can’t describe the additional pain generated as weeks, months and years go past and fuck all happens.

This established practice of embedded, accepted and unremarked upon (by those with any sniff of  power) delay needs stamping out. It’s simply inhumane.

Justicequilt-53

OCC, ‘the BLOG’ and power

Bit of a ragbag ramble this evening. Including some tips for social care bods. I had a bit of a sort out today and a few choice docs from Oxfordshire County Council (OCC) popped up. Now OCC are doing a seriously cracking job at keeping their heads down so far, despite clearly being concerned that their involvement in what happened might come under the spotlight at some point. A lot of their exchanges are fuelled by this blog (or “the BLOG” as they call it).

The Director for Social and Community Services didn’t write to us after LB died. Or after the CQC found appalling failings at STATT in a report published in November 2013. Or after the Verita report found LB’s death preventable in February 2014. Nope. He wrote on April 2nd (saying sorry ‘about the death of’ LB) in response to comments I’d written about OCC. [Tip 1. Write to families straight away if someone dies an unexpected death in provision you commission. Not just when you feel publicly threatened]. OCC also declined to attend the pre-inquest review meeting recently (‘nothing to do with us guv’) even though the coroner’s court is in their building [Tip 2. Send someone to inquest meetings when the person’s death was preventable].

There’s a long list of things we think OCC did wrong. Not least giving STATT a green light in their quality review at the end of 2012. A month or so before a Winterbourne View JIP team of three (including an Oxon commissioner) visited and thought the place was a shithole. The commissioner put in a decorating chit (and now says no crap other than shabby detected) while the other two assumed the commissioner would do something about the place. Other than a lick of paint.

OCC self preservation workings are very apparent in docs disclosed to us. For example, in response to a request from the Clinical Commissioning Group (CCG) to offer us a meeting (as I seemed to be softening on my blog. Yes, really), a senior OCC official’s response was What if she brings her solicitor along with her? I think we need to do a bit more thinking before offering a meeting out of the blue. S/he then decides if the meeting goes ahead an OCC person should attend too in order to know what the CCG geezer is saying. Wow. [Tip 4. Second guessing responses and back watching suggests a right old toxic culture which needs urgent attention/disinfectant].

This blog seems to have evened out (only slightly mind) the power differential between families and health/social care organisations. It features in so many exchanges in disclosed documents often with links to posts. Slovens solicitors wrote a pretty steaming letter to us a couple of weeks ago (copying the coroner in) because I’d made an error on a recent post (now corrected).

I was a bit mortified at the time as I’ve tried to be accurate throughout. But given the amount of ‘errors’ cough cough the Sloves have made throughout this foul process (and the slimy, smearing Briefing document they circulated to fuck knows who else in addition to NHS England, Monitor), one error is pretty remarkable really. In the circumstances.

What a murky, murky little biz.

Stay classy, y’all.

Justicequilt-50

Another sordid Sloven tale

When LB was in the unit there was a patient (one of five) who didn’t look brilliant. I only saw him/her dressed once. Most of the time we visited s/he was in a dressing gown and didn’t seem to go out much. S/he had a bit of a wry sense of humour and chatted away, like really chatted away. A bit like LB really.

I read months later that a patient died of cancer days after LB died. Eh? What? How could someone so close to the end of their life through terminal illness be in a secure unit days before their death [howl]. And why was this discussed in a document reflecting on the additional distress her/his death caused staff. No apparent consideration for other patients. Again.

In the 107 days LB was in the unit, we saw how the inmates (let’s not dress it up) connected with each other and had a sometimes uneasy, occasionally hilarious but a recognisably collective sense of being there. How the three living (remaining?) patients have dealt with the trauma they experienced during that hot, hot July, without specialist support (no post-Winterbourne View/JIP related, apparently gold plated, support here) is unimaginable. Were they able to attend this second funeral if nothing else?

I heard this week, through another dicky bird (the scourge of the candour duty obliterators) that some staff had been concerned about the wellbeing of this patient over some time. [Good]. These concerns were not really listened to. Allegedly, through the whistle blowing process, Sloven have only recently started an internal (that is, chocolate teapot jobby like) investigation into this person’s death. Over a year and a half later.

Wow. If nothing else, the shite that continues to become visible is, er, consistently, shite.

One of our campaign aims was a review into the deaths of all patients in Sloven learning disability and mental health provision since 2011. This was commissioned by David Nicholson last spring.The Death Review got off to a shaky start given nonsense about having Sloven and local CCGs on the expert advisory panel. It looks like this has been resolved but here’s hoping the review gets to the heart of the rotten core. It isn’t about number of deaths but about the response to these deaths. Not only are people denied humanity in life but also in death.

Chilling and unforgivable.

Newsnight. Yep.

The National Audit Office yesterday reported an unacceptable fail on the part of ‘The Department’, NHS England (and the 51 organisations who signed up to the Concordat back in the day) to move people out of ATUs.

We published our own audit from the Justice Shed on the same day. Makes for an interesting read.

And Newsnight came round. And did a cracking job.

LB made national TV 20 months after drowning in a bath in hospital. Astonishing.

Justicequilt-46

Reflections on reflections

Oh dear. Some despondency reached the Justice Shed today. There were a few twitter threads of discussion around the fact that no disabled people were on the #LBBill panel at the Humanities gig at Manchester University.

Nope. There weren’t. Should there have been? Good question.

#JusticeforLB and the #LBBill have been organic, unscripted, slightly disorganised campaigns. Everyone involved is a volunteer. There’s no structure, no resources (other than goodwill which has been available by the shedload) and no agenda (other than effective change). Most importantly perhaps there are no vested interests.

Many #JusticeforLB campaigners are disabled. People have contributed in all sorts of ways. An open and transparent campaign. Anything and everything goes (just browse #107days to delight in this). A mix of determination, commitment, passion, humour, fear and fearlessness, and a refusal to be drawn into meaningless, empty and fake talk about what is about to change. The amount of hours and (crowd sourced) skills and support provided for free impossible to count.

This is in contrast to the spectacular failure of other efforts to make life better for learning disabled people. The National Audit Office are publishing their investigation into the ‘dread to think’ sums of money squandered on the Winterbourne View Joint (Non) Improvement Programme on Wednesday. This should make for an interesting – finger nails on the blackboard – type read. Big charities and other organisations have also talked the talk at length, across the last three or four years, within the stifling constraints of existing structures, organisational layers, an eye on salaries and the awkward position of being both campaigner and provider. Tripping over in jargon alley, distanced from the experiences and engagement of learning disabled people and their families, apart from the often tokenistic involvement of one or two disabled people, hands over ears to avoid properly listening.

So should there have been a disabled person on the panel on Monday? Of course there should. We’ve met with disabled people’s organisations. Cracking easy read bill resources are available. There have been events organised across the country focused on getting feedback from learning disabled people. Passion, commitment and effort have generated a mountain of feedback waiting to be analysed and fed into the next version of the Bill.

That the panel didn’t include a disabled person shouldn’t be a negative reflection on the campaign. It should raise questions, discussion and reflection on how meaningful involvement can happen within the context of no resources, little time (or structured organisation?) and an antipathy to tokenism. And what this means about ‘inclusion’ more generally.

As well as a shared commitment to making things different.

The roadshow

Bit of a #justiceforLB flurry this week with a workshop on Monday afternoon and evening talk at Manchester Met (see Mark Neary and Steve Broach), and a talk/workshop at the NDTi conference the next day. This generated loads of positive stuff which is ace. Meeting up with fellow justice campaigners ‘in real life’ is fab and hearing how the campaign is energising, moving, challenging and clearly being a collective pain in the arse, is heartening.

It’s pretty hard, odd, awkward, I don’t know, just off the page of sad really, publicly talking about your child who has died. Especially (I’m guessing) when her or his death just screams wrong on so many levels. On Monday and Tuesday I showed a slightly edited version of the film Rosie and I made in the days after LB died, for his do. I remember us sitting at the kitchen table in the early hours (because there were no day and night rules in that nothing (but hellish) space between death and burial/cremation), going through photos and home movies and stuff that captured LB. [Howl]. We paid meticulous detail to the content and arrangement of the short film. The magical part of Pure Imagination had to fit with the pic of LB being showered in confetti at a friend’s wedding, for example. A detail lost on others I’m sure (understandably), but of crucial importance to us in our tear sodden, bewildered and devastated states.

I dug out this film this week because I kind of feel that who LB is has shifted. He’s gained notoriety. (A bloody hard fought one, mind). And in death, everything he would have wanted in life – buses and a truck named after him, a collective focus on buses and Eddie Stobart, a top notch legal team fighting his corner, a police investigation – has been achieved. He only needs Emma Watson to champion #justiceforLB and all boxes would be ticked.

Stripping all that back. He was a dude. A six form student with his adult life (though you can fuck right off with this adulthood at 12.01am on the 18th year of your birth rubbish) ahead of him. That he died after 18 years of barely getting a scratch (love him) at home, in ‘specialist provision’ that cost £3,500 per week (£14,000 per month???) with a staff to patient ratio of 4:5 is incomprehensible still. I’m not sure we’ll ever make sense of it.

But the campaign is keeping LB alive in a kind of cheesy old way. I suppose that’s why it’s a fairly typical response by families. And we seem to be getting somewhere. Almost.

As Stevie B says:

image

Too bloody right.