If anyone reading this blog is wondering where on earth I have disappeared to, please don't give up on me; since I wrote about Uncle John's move to Jindalee, and Wendy's imminent visit to him on 15 June, so much has happened.
Wendy arrived early on the morning on 15 June, and Uncle John was thrilled to see her again, and looking forward so much to going out and about with her. We had already checked the staff were happy about it, and we were even offered a folding wheelchair that Wendy could put in the boot of the car, should Uncle John need it whilst they were out.
But then came the bad news: staff told Wendy she could not take Uncle John out of the facility, without his son's permission - his son had a written a letter about a week ago, and this was now attached to the Enduring Power of Attorney on Uncle John's file.
Wendy asked if someone could ring Johnny, and get permission? This was done, and the answer came back: "No!" Then Wendy asked, if Johnny would like to come out with her and his dad? and back the answer came: "No!"
It was a terrible disappointment for Uncle John. He said, "Can't we just ... get up and go? I can walk!"
Sensibly, but sadly, Wendy had to advise him against it; she feared that if they simply walked out and went for a drive, Johnny could tell staff at the nursing home that Wendy could not see Uncle John at all, and that would be a terrible shame. With only a week available for her to spend with Uncle John, they decided to go with what they had, and Wendy would stay with him every day, for as long as possible.
Early on the Monday morning, Brisbane time, I spoke to a Solicitor, who was very understanding; he said we should request a copy of the Enduring Power of Attorney, and a copy of the letter forbidding Uncle John to leave the nursing home. I spoke to a staff member at the nursing home, but she was quite curt, and said she could not provide us with a copy of the EPOA or letter, and that everything was perfectly alright, and working as it should!
Wendy and I remained completely unimpressed and unconvinced; "... Everything is alright, and working perfectly as it should!" is the same script Uncle John's son has used on every occasion when he has to justify himself; except that everything is not alright, and is not working perfectly as it should.
Uncle John is terribly upset that his son has closed down his bank account, and he has no money for his personal use at all. Uncle John had nothing with which to buy one of our family members a birthday card, so Wendy got one for him, which he was pleased about, but of course once Wendy left, there was no-one else will do that for him. The wardrobe for his clothes had virtually nothing in it, and there were no outdoor shoes, either; Uncle John said he felt as if he was in prison.
During the week Wendy was with Uncle John, I rang the warden at Marsden Gardens, and asked what had happened to Uncle John's unit?
"Oh, the family cleared it all out on 1 May," came the reply.
With everything gone, there was nothing Wendy could do to retrieve some items for Uncle John; he does not know what his son has done, and still wants (and believes he can) go back and pick up some personal things. His room is so sparse, with nothing to personalise it for him - he has no books, no mementos, no photographs - nothing from his past at all.
He told me how awful he felt, as he didn't "...have a brass farthing!" and how grateful he was to Wendy for coming back to Brisbane to be with him, and what good company she was. He held out his arms and we had a Skype hug (there must be such a thing!) and blew each other a kiss. I promised Uncle John I am working as hard as I can, to get him some assistance.
At last Wendy gave Uncle John another hug, and then it was time for her to set off on the first leg of her journey home.
One of the reasons I haven't been able to write very much, is because I have been engaged in 2- and 3-hour hour telephone conversations with various authorities in Australia, and explaining all our worries over and over again, takes time; in addition, I've been coping with a 9 hour time difference between the UK and Australia, so it's been a case of burning of the midnight oil, more than even I want to! But if I can get some help for Uncle John, it will all have been worth it.
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| Uncle John's wardrobe, with two lonely, empty coat hangers,, swinging from the rail. |
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| And the bottom of Uncle John's wardrobe, with no outdoor shoes |
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| Uncle John - sitting in a dressing gown |
