NH-Kafka-S and smoking mirrors

A response to our question about staff disciplinary actions. From NHS England. At long last. We’ve pressed for information about this endlessly. I’ve lost count of how many tweets, bleats and rants I’ve done/produced. Sorry to be so relentlessly tedious. I’ve bored myself.But hey. What a response.

“1 member of staff has left the trust and has been formally referred to the NMC.

Disciplinary hearings for 3 members of staff will be held in December. This has been delayed as we previously understood that these would take place in October.

2 junior staff have been investigated and have returned to work under supervision, following additional training.

The doctor involved has left the trust, as you are aware. We believe that they are no longer registered in the UK. We understand that the GMC are carrying out their own process in regard to this doctor. I believe that Sara Ryan is aware of this.

The duration of time that this is all taking to conclude is very regrettable. The Trust have acknowledged this and apologise for it. They have explained that some of the staff involved have had periods of sickness, which has resulted in their cases being unable to be progressed. There was also an issue of staff being subject to Ridgeway policies, which were not wholly fit for purpose and subsequent negotiation with the staff representatives to agree a way forward.”

What the fuck is going on? Have Sloven got some sort of royal family type force field around them? How can the response to ‘Can you let us know where the HR investigations are after 16 months’ come back framed in complete fuckwattery;  ‘We previously understood’, ‘we believe’, ‘the duration of time that this is taking to conclude is very regrettable’This is the sort of language used when people complain about crap food, uncooked chicken, buying mouldy veg and flakey 3G coverage. LB was a fit and healthy young man with his life ahead of him. Please don’t reduce his death to the equivalent of a consumer complaint. 

So. As ever. Questions/comments. Questions we shouldn’t be asking.

Why has it taken so long to get an update on the above?
Why do the numbers of staff involved change on every iteration?
Why are the disciplinary hearings to be held in December? LB died 19 months before this. How can this process possibly take this long?
You know I’m aware that the GMC are carrying out their own process about the doctor because I fucking referred him/her. Because no one else would.
The time taken isn’t ‘regrettable’. It’s barbaric.
We haven’t had the luxury of taking ‘periods of sickness’ because of what we’re up against.
Don’t pull the ‘Ridgeway policy’ card. You took over this organisation knowing the issues involved.
Given crap all has happened in over 16 months, what a meaningless statement from NHS England about pressing for progress.

And, as ever, you absolute fucking bastards. Typical bastardry by Sloven, half arsed, lily livered NHS England response, complete duck out by Monitor, behind the fence shivering from the local authority/clinical commissioning group and some action by the CCQ.

What an absolute shambles.

Approaching LB’s birth day

It’s LB’s 20th birthday on Monday. Howl. Howl. Howl. Howl. I love it that the kids have all been thinking and planning around it. Howl.  I’m unable to do much more than appreciate their thinking and planning. That they are thinking and planning. I don’t say much (sorry kids) and scuffle off into a different space at home. Or work.

Thinking of LB’s birthday when I’m out, as I do at the mo, is a Sooty tears situ. I’m pitched straight back to those early baking July days, and earlier. I walk through town or sit on the bus with tears running down my face.

Funnily enough, for all the rules of social interaction I’ve been fascinated with since becoming a sociology student years ago, I’ve learned you can actually have a good old public weep quite privately. Maybe it’s because of the digital focus. We can all be online now and blank out (deliberately or obliviously) the ‘messiness’ of what might be happening next to/around us.

The birth day space is one of such intense pain that I can barely breathe, function or do anything with. How can you have a child and not celebrate their birthday? How does/will this work over coming years. When LB stays 18 and we all grow older. Without him. Howl. What do you do with such an intense longing/missing for a person who is such an integral part of you?

At the moment my mind calendar is pretty much reduced to two dates; death day and birth day. All other ‘celebratory’ dates (birthdays, Christmas, Easter, etc) are irrelevant. I know I have to move beyond this focus (even though I don’t want to). I know our (pretty legendary) kids have and deserve their own space to do and be and shine and be loved for who they are. Nothing should take away from this. But it’s hard. It’s so bloody hard not to be caught up in and devoured by the intense pain of missing and aching for the cub who was picked off, carelessly and callously, by a publicly funded body. A body that exists to ‘care’.

old pics (1)

How the fuck in fucking hellsters is LB not alive?

The AGM, the Godfather and happiness

It was the My Life My Choice AGM this afternoon. It was dedicated to LB and the theme was happiness and laughter. It kicked off with a bit of spontaneous dancing to Will Pharrell’s Happiness. I ain’t a spontaneous dancer in any way but what a cracking way to start an AGM (or any meeting). There followed a series of ‘official’ (dosh and voting new trustees) and informal (laughing yoga and chatting about highlights of the year) bits. For a lengthy meeting, the organisation/design was exceptional.

I had a slot in which I gave a brief update about #justiceforLB and the ways in which MLMC had worked with/supported us. I forgot to copy my slides onto my memory stick but it didn’t matter. They’ve been so consistently supportive it was easy to recount the many examples.

There were refreshments and party poppers. New trustees were voted in. Disappointment among unsuccessful candidates managed by similarly disappointed candidates or the new geezers.

I live tweeted bits of the meeting. Michael ‘the Godfather’ Edwards was there. I was a bit in awe really. I remember reading an article about him years ago in a Sunday mag. How, in our local day centre, he spent his days sorting something like nails into different boxes. If they finished sorting before the end of the day (mid afternoon) the boxes were emptied back into the pile for re-sorting.

This story stayed with me. An almighty howl of frustration. LB was a pup at the time. I was determined he wouldn’t lead a stripped out, colourless, pointless life.

MLMC

Michael was the ‘celebrity’ in the room. Held in warm respect. A lot of young dudes from the local college were present for part of the meeting. Some fidgeting and nudging. Some eye rolling.They chipped in. A student was voted one of the new trustees.

There were very few ‘professionals’ present. I googled the Michael Edwards article when I got home. It was from 2001. I was surprised it was so recent. Jan Walmsley was there today. As she was in 2001.

Justicequilt-5

A piece of my heart broke a tiny bit more.

A counter powerpoint

The Slovens compounded distress with even more distress this week. A staff training powerpoint off the scale of appropriate.

A (bad) taste of the document, now hidden behind the Sloven firewall:
image

 

Here in the Justice Shed we kind of try to stay positive (determined not to let these bastards destroy us). So here is a counter powerpoint which is hopefully more useful.

(I’ve pulled this together quite speedily and may revise over time).

Need, night and utter shite

Yesterday Mark Neary flagged up concern about shared overnight care in warehouse type facilities. Responses to his post can be read at the #LBBill facebook page.

To summarise, it sounds like a cheap gig is being created through the sharing of ‘night’ care by local authorities/providers. Groups of people who are supposed to have support workers can be put to bed sharpish of an evening, leaving one support worker and ‘assistive technology’ on the nightshift (9pm-7am). Assistive technology can be alarmed doors to alert the (dozy TV watching?) night shift herb that an inmate is on the move. (This reminds me a little bit of the experience of my mate’s son.) Strikes me a bit dodgy that this technology can be increasingly (without question) used to surveil, monitor and constrain the movements of learning disabled people to reduce costs/workloads, while any mention of surveillance equipment to protect people from abuse is shot down in a fury of privacy arguments. (Bit of an aside, but I’m still flummoxed as to why we’re still banging on about post-Winterbourne when so many other abuses have happened since and LB died..(he died?) Is it the power of video footage or just another containment exercise?)

Most of us have some say in when we decide to watch the tv, have some nosh, go out, hang out or go to bed. It’s, er, part of being human. Bedding people down by 9pm (and probably much earlier in practice – again, see mate’s story above) for cost and containment reasons is surely breaching their human rights? And goes hand in hand with the shutting down (or more accurately, never opening up) of any sniff of opportunity, aspiration and imagination.

With LB’s death, the sledgehammer of fear no longer hangs over us. We no longer have to worry about how he will lead a (most optimistic scenario) basic life in the context of poor support, budgets cuts and a system which doesn’t recognise the humanity of people like him. And that terrible, terrible fear of what will happen to him when we ain’t around anymore. The worst thing imaginable has happened. In a context that will never ever make any sense to us.

I’m left now, outside this circle of fear, wondering what the fuck is going on? Why are we discussing proposed changes post this/post the other when the beacon that is independent supported living seems to be morphing into a mechanism for managing people on the cheap? An update today on the Bubb report (sigh) talks about new buildings and a (sinister) skills academy. No doubt with hefty contracts for state of the art assistive technology. The potential for this technology to replace the human in the context of learning disability provision is enormous. And menacing. Social interaction (in a diverse range of forms) is central to being human. Removing that from an already socially impoverished group has terrible implications.

I can’t help seeing a future where people reside in the community with empty lives, increasingly monitored by technology. With cost as the central motivation for stripping away their humanity even further.

Anyone know when person centred dropped off the table?

Justicequilt-9

This is what everyday life looks like for many people. How have we got it so wrong?

Sloven sunday and an Indian feast

I spent the weekend cooking Sunday lunch. Bit unusual for me. And a bit of a mixed Indian feast. Tricky if you don’t eat meat to gauge flavours in a lamb spectacular (Nigella’s Indian Feast). The lamb curry was as tough as old boots last night according to sniffy Rich. This morning I got it out the fridge, tried to ignore the obvious rubberiness of the meat and got on with the rest of the feast; (off piste after mutter paneer with my legendary dahl (it really is and I ain’t no cook) and Madjur Jaffrey’s  potatoes with mustard seeds/cumin and stir fried cauliflower. At one point I thought about googling ‘how to soften up rubbery old lamb’ but Nigella warned this might happen and said an overnighter in the sauce would ease the troubled meat.

She was right apparently. Rich and Rosie tucked in gamely. Rich had a painted on smile throughout the meal (my cooking is often the source of some tense exchanges) but they said it was great and they were looking forward to eating it for the next ten years. (I went more for Indian wedding feast than bog standard feast).

Anyway. After a kip, I hit twitter and discovered that Sloven are celebrating being shortlisted for the Nursing Times 2014 award for the health and wellbeing of their staff. Along with pics of the Sloven senior team celebrating this development.
sloven

I don’t know. I know the world shouldn’t stop because our dude died. I know Sloven have around 9000 staff many of whom are probably ace. But seeing the CEO ligging about celebrating what is a meaningless, commercial (short list t-shirt?) enterprise while we’re still waiting for fairly basic answers (like, ironically, the outcome of staff disciplinary actions) is pretty rubbish. Leaving a young, healthy dude to drown in the bath and then spitting his family out in a series of obstructive, deceitful, bullying and delaying actions, is off the scale of what the NHS is (or should be).

I wondered if an overnight stint in some sort of sauce could ease this troubled bunch. What it would be like if there was a recipe book or manual somewhere that says ‘be aware that the Trust might well act like complete gobshites after the death of your beloved child/partner/mother/sister… But don’t worry. You don’t need to do anything. Just leave it with us. By tomorrow, the rubberiness will be gone.’

Wow. Wouldn’t that be something?

Sadly, there is no Nigella in this context. There is no sauce. No overnight in the fridge. None of the obvious suspects – ministers, Monitor, NHS England, CQC, the HSE or, as yet to join the party, the Health Ombudsman – seem to have de-rubbering magic.

The Sloven party continues.