Thread by @the_shb

Here I am with my dad, in the year I decided standing on one foot in photos was going to be my thing.

My dad endured my flamingo phase in bemused silence. He always stood beside me, even through my most ill-begotten ideas. #agedcarerc

He was also brilliant. His PhD looked like this: page after page of insane equations, theorising the movement of particles in fluid.

I have never known anybody who loved working as much as my dad. His favourite saying was ‘it’s only work if you don’t enjoy it.’ #agedcarerc

All through my childhood, he read voraciously. He composed piano concertos for fun. He taught me to love the life of the mind.

His idea of a relaxing road trip was teaching me to solve algebraic equations from behind the wheel. His brain never stopped. Until it did #agedcarerc

In 2000, at 64, Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. As someone who had always been highly intellectually active, he was devastated and frightened by his diagnosis.

He lived at home as long as he could. Because he was so mentally active, that was a long time: 14 years #agedcarerc

But eventually his falls became too frequent, his needs too complex, and in 2015, after a steep physical decline, my mum and I reluctantly moved him into care.

We chose the best place we could. It had lovely gardens. Spacious rooms. We had seen so much worse. #agedcarerc

But the problems at his nursing home started almost immediately. His vital Parkinson’s meds weren’t dispensed on time. His clothes were dirty. He was frequently dishevelled.

I would often find him with untreated injuries and infections that nobody had noticed. #agedcarerc

Dad was mistakenly prescribed meds that negated the benefits of his Parkinson’s drugs, which meant he couldn’t coordinate his movements, and struggled to walk. Nobody noticed.

Then Dad fell and broke his hip. He was rushed to hospital. The doctors said he would never walk again.

Later, a whistleblower came forward and told us she had witnessed a carer deliberately abusing and mistreating Dad. Moving his wheelchair away from the bed so he was immobile. Taunting him verbally. Leaving him in distress in soiled incontinence pads on purpose. #agedcarerc

Telling other staff he was sleeping when he was awake and desperate for a shower. Leaving fresh incontinence pads out of reach and telling him to get them himself. Victimising a man whose quality of life was so diminished already.

Sadistic stuff. Just monstrous. #agedcarerc

I was enraged and sickened. I expected the facility to fire his abuser immediately. But what happened next shocked me to my core.

The facility’s manager wasn’t upset about what had happened to Dad. He was upset that the whistleblower had come to us and not him.

The manager offered to move the abuser to another wing of the facility, away from Dad. But I couldn’t sleep, knowing that she would likely be victimising other vulnerable residents, many of whom suffer from dementia or Alzheimer’s and are unable to report abuse #agedcarerc

I went to the police. I went to Elder Abuse. I went to the regulator. None of them—not even the ACCC—had the power to pursue the abusive carer.

The facility stonewalled me. It was only interested in identifying the whistleblower #agedcarerc

It was a lonely, exhausting, debilitating process. Nobody seemed interested in the most worrisome aspect of the story: that Dad’s abuser was still in the system, entrusted with caring for some of the most vulnerable people in our community. #agedcarerc

The regulator did nothing. It took the facility’s assurances at face value.

Eventually, the carer was fired from the facility, but only because I begged the whistleblower to go on record, which she reluctantly did under great fear of retaliation.
#agedcarerc

I wish Dad’s story ended there. It doesn’t.

Instead, in the 2 years since, Dad’s suffered 6 broken ribs, including 2 that were left undiagnosed and untreated. He suffered in silence. Once, I even found an unaccompanied corpse in the hallway. #agedcarerc

There have been countless examples of neglect both small and large. Injuries and infections not properly treated. Meals Dad has had to choke down without chewing because staff have forgotten to put his dentures in. Hygiene issues. UTIs from being left in wet incontinence pads.

None of this is pleasant to share. It’s sickening. It’s been heartbreaking to live through. But it’s the reality of #agedcare in Australia today. Toothless regulators. No minimum staffing requirements. It’s the wild west of healthcare. The norm is appalling. #agedcarerc

Preparing to testify at the Royal Commission about what my Dad has had to endure has been harrowing. I’m tired in my bones.

But I’m also thinking of him today, and aware that the weight of responsibility he once shouldered has now passed to me.

Our elders deserve so much better. They are are grandparents and parents, our neighbours, colleagues and friends. We owe it to them to demand a kinder, more compassionate, robustly regulated system.

Love you, Dad. This is for you. #agedcarerc

I’m very moved by the response to Dad’s story. Thanks to everyone who has shared it and reached out with their own stories. Thanks also to @australian for letting me share a longer version in print today. #agedcare must change. The time is now. #agedcarerc theaustralian.com.au/nation/fear-an…