Uncle John

Uncle John

Having just published a couple of reports I should have dealt with six months ago, this is another update  that I ought to have written before Christmas. 

There had not been a peep from QCAT to let me know how the case for the Tribunal was progressing; I had heard once more from the Private Investigator who had been trying to establish contact with Uncle John, and he reported they had now made it impossible for anyone to get into the Nursing Home to visit him. This was quite apart from restrictions imposed by the virus; as far as getting in touch with Uncle John in any way at all, the portcullis had come down and the drawbridge was staying up. For him, it was a no-go area, with no explanation as to why this was happening.  

At one point, I also telephoned someone at Brisbane Cathedral, in the hope that they could at least attempt a pastoral visit or phone call, but they, too, had been turned away; when I spoke again to the lady at St David's to ask how she had got on with the request, she could only tell me that the staff at the Nursing Home had refused contact, and when asked "Why?" the reply was, "It's complicated." It was clear alarm bells had not even rung with someone from the Church. 

Then I remembered that, when we all lived in Dar-es-Salaam, we used to attend Services held by the Salvation Army. I know how very understanding they are - Mum and I got some terrific help from them during the times when it was particularly bad with my father ill-treating Mum - and I thought if anyone could make some sort of a breakthrough, it might be someone from the Salvation Army. 

I stayed up until gone midnight again so that when I made the phone call it would be 9.00 a.m. in Brisbane, and I got through to a very kind and understanding Officer. When I had explained what had happened, and how long it had gone on for, she said she would try her best for us and, sure enough, later that day, I received an e-mail from her. She had been in touch with the Nursing Home, and had a name for me; she suggested I call this person, who would be willing to talk to me. Of course, I rang the home immediately, but with the time difference, it was already just after the time when the office staff  had finished work for the day, so I had to leave it until midnight, when I tried again.

And at long last, I had a very sympathetic conversation with someone. Nothing could be spelled out in detail for me, but in a roundabout and diplomatic, coded way, I got the message. I was told it is the law in Australia for anyone who has put a Power of Attorney in place, when that person dies, the Power of Attorney falls away: and the Power of Attorney for Uncle John ended on 28th October 2020.

It was a blow, but not unexpected. I think I had known all along that my comment in a previous blog post saying if the authorities delayed along enough, it would no longer matter, because Uncle John would be dead, would be proved prophetic.  

It was especially poignant because Uncle John had died on what would have been Mum's 101st Birthday; and he was exactly 97 and a half years old. 

I was also told that, near the end of his life, Uncle John had been moved to Hospital, and there he would have stayed, except that he made it clear he did not want to die in Hospital, but wanted to be back in the Nursing Home. I really understood that: in the Hospital, he knew no-one, but in the Nursing Home, at least he was with people he knew and had got used to.  I think his wish to be in the Nursing Home proves, at least to me, that he was in control of his own mind and knew what was going on, and what he wanted. 

I know we can't turn back the clock, but how I wish he had made a different decision about staying in Australia, and had agreed to come back to England and live with us here, instead. We  can all take comfort from that fact that at least he knew he was loved, and knew he always had a home here with us. 

I just pray that at the end, he was at peace and went gently. He is always in our thoughts and prayers. 

An Update On Uncle John: and Posts Dated 23 June 2020 and 24 June 2020

An Update On Uncle John: and Posts Dated 23 June 2020 and 24 June 2020

On 19 June 2020, I wrote a published post for this blog explaining how, about two weeks earlier, I had once again tried to contact Uncle John. I had telephoned the Receptionist at the nursing home, and she did at least hear me out, but still the answer was the same: there was no possibility of us speaking to him. 

To try and clear my mind, I then wrote a couple of draft posts for the blog: the first was dated 23 June 2020, and listed what had been going on with the Solicitor I'd asked to take up the cudgels on our behalf (except that, in the end, there wasn't anything that she could do) and exchanges of e-mails; the second draft, dated 24 June 2020, detailed the conversation I had with the Solicitor, when she rang me from Brisbane. 

I didn't publish those posts in June, but left them as drafts; I felt I really needed to take a step back from everything for a little while, to concentrate on more positive things that I have good control over, and that would result in happier outcomes. Since then, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge, and we have dealt with so much, especially making sure Mum had a good send off in September, and I know it was the right decision to step back and take the time to clarify things in my own mind. 

I now feel the need to return to this sad business, so I shall share what I probably should have posted back in June last year. So, here goes, and here are those two posts: published a bit later than they should have been, but still... I think it's important to have a full account. 

And Then, The Next Day At 06.45, The Solicitor Rang Me...(Post Written 24 June 2020)

And Then, The Next Day at 06.45, The Solicitor Rang Me... (Post Written 24 June 2020)

I was, for once, in a really deep sleep; dreamless, my leg wasn't bothering me (the one I broke all those years ago, and which reminds me regularly of what happened!), when the phone started ringing.

Even in a deep sleep, it roused me so fast, I was out of bed and answering the call, without putting on the light.  It was the solicitor coming back to me after receiving my e-mails.

We had a long conversation; she was sympathetic, but could not understand why I had sent over all the information regarding the way Uncle John's son had been overstepping his Power of Attorney ever since Uncle John had been admitted to hospital in March 2019.

She told me that QCAT had to obtain a medical report first, to see if Uncle John had capacity or not; if he does not, only then can they act and start the interim order procedure; that is why QCAT have to order their own Medical Report.  I said, I thought that was disgraceful, as it means his son is able to continue to isolate his dad; the Solicitor said the assumption is that the person holding the EPOA is acting responsibly; she confirmed the OPG can only make advisory recommendations, and cannot enforce anything.

I also told her, that when I first contacted QCAT and spoke to Regan Ashwell, he had told me to just complete Form 10 and the request for an Interim Order; the Medical Report and Financial Report would be obtained by them. He also told me the Interim Report would take about 5-6 weeks; it is now  almost 5 months since I first submitted the forms to them!

I repeated my astonishment that no-one seems ready to challenge Johnny on anything; and by the time the authorities may eventually get around to doing something about it, Uncle John may well be dead.

I also said that if someone has raised the problem of abuse, surely the most important person was the one being abused, and not the person with the EPOA and the power to continue the abuse?  If the authorities had the will to ask the people I had listed in my submissions, that would surely prove what I was saying was true, and that from the moment Johnny got control of his Dad's life, he was determined to isolate him and stop anyone from contacting him, visiting him, or even writing to him.

I said, I think most employees in these government departments are the same in most countries. They work to their own time table, not taking into account someone's frailty or terminal illness or abuse, and then, when something goes wrong, and a disaster occurs, or maybe someone dies, someone junior will get their knuckles rapped - it's never a senior head that rolls - and the old cliche is trotted out: "Lessons will be learned"!

And they never are.

During the phone call, I quickly realised, even having a solicitor dealing with QCAT is not going to make much difference to the outcome of the official investigations; and what I cannot manage is racking up a huge bill with the law firm, with little or no chance of a speedier result.

I think I was diplomatic: I said, I really appreciated all she was telling me, and understood it was the way the QCAT procedure works. I said, I had hoped that if they were dealing with a Solicitor, it might have encouraged them to work more quickly, than if they were just in contact with me, and she said it was true that they officer dealing with Uncle John's case had been more forthcoming with her, than they would have been with me.

I then added, that even with this consideration, if it was not going to make any substantial difference, I really could not afford to run up a large legal bill with her firm, and I would appreciate it, if she could just continue until the fee I had paid so far had been used up, and then I would have to leave it at that.

She agreed that she would check to see what was left in the account, and when there was no money left, wind it up. I hope she will at least tell QCAT they will now have to deal with me again!



  

I Receive An Update From The Solicitor, And My Reply (From 23 June 2020)

I Receive An Update From The Solicitor, And My Reply (From 23 June 2020)

At the risk of becoming repetitious, here is the latest exchange of e-mails:

On Friday, 19 June, I received this one from the Solicitor:

"We refer to your emails dated 17 June 2020.

The OPG will investigate allegations of neglect, exploitation or abuse if the person in question is a vulnerable adult and without capacity. 

We agree that for the OPG to have investigated your complaint they would have needed to assume your Uncle did not have capacity. The OPG is not, however, a medical professional and cannot declare someone to be without capacity. As a result, QCAT is seeking the medical report to finally determine whether or not your Uncle has capacity.

As for the OPG’s preliminary findings,  it is ultimately for QCAT to determine if Mr Woods (Jnr) is no longer acting in the best interests of his father. An Attorney is not, however, bound by the findings of the OPG.   

We cannot say whether your Uncle or his son has directed the Jindalee facility not to allow telephone calls. Although it may be the case your Uncle does not have capacity, it does not mean he will not fall in and out of periods of lucidity to make such directions himself.

We understand your concern but until a determination is made by QCAT Mr Woods (Jnr) is entitled to act as Attorney and make both medical and financial decisions on behalf of your Uncle." 

                                                .............................................

In my view, they are approaching this from the wrong end of the telescope; there is no doubt Uncle John is fading, and they are still not investigating the person who has created all his problems in the first place!

On Sunday evening, 22 June/Monday morning, 23 June, I wrote back:

Thank you for your e-mail and the update about QCAT.

Everyone in authority who has been investigating my complaints about the way Uncle John has been - and, if he is still alive, still being - treated, has focused only on my Uncle John and his mental capacity. It seems no one has given thought or consideration to pursue the leads I have provided to them from the very beginning, to prove my complaints about his son are justified.

When QCAT finally determines whether or not my Uncle John has capacity, it still means that, in the meantime, someone who does not have his best interests at heart  - i.e., his son - can continue to act as Attorney, with impunity. When I first made the application to QCAT in January, I also requested an Interim Order, which I was told would take 5-6 weeks. We are now at the 22 June, and no further forward.

I would like to raise again, the following points, which you may care to forward to QCAT as a reminder:

1) Having looked after my mother for many years, I am perfectly aware that people can go in and out of lucidity and of having mental capacity. However, no-one is picking up the simple question of asking why, in the first place, has Uncle John’s son continually tried to prohibit anyone from contacting him? and then in June 2019, stop my daughter from taking Uncle John out of the home for treats, whilst he was still able to enjoy them? At that time, Uncle John himself asked Wendy to take him out, and could not understand why his son refused permission; staff in the facility did not challenge his son’s decision - why did they not do this? They only rang him up to ask if his father could go out, and he said, “No.”

2) It is a fact that people become more withdrawn the longer they are left in isolation, and that is the situation my Uncle has found himself in: Cut off from his family through a vindictive attitude set forth by his son as a result of what has been confessed to be a deep-set hatred towards his dad. The situation we find ourselves, in which a brother is unaware of his elder sister's death, is shocking. Johnny is not using his power of attorney to care or protect his dad, he is using it to hold his father prisoner - to keep him segregated from the people who love him. Here in the UK, coercive control is now recognised as a crime, and I believe my Uncle has been subjected to this by his son.

3) My Uncle signed the Power of Attorney when he had been admitted to hospital in March 2019, and did not have any independent legal advice.

4) From the moment Uncle John was admitted to hospital (first, Princess Alexandra and then St Vincent’s), his son immediately took steps to keep his father isolated, and not be allowed to speak to anyone. When my daughter and I arrived in Brisbane in March 2019, we saw Kris Flint, a Social Worker at Princess Alexandra, and she ascertained from Uncle John personally, that he did want to see us, and for us to be kept informed of his health and progress. This information should be still available on Uncle John’s file.

5) When Uncle John was moved to St Vincent’s Hospital at the beginning of April 2019, again his son issued orders his father was not to receive visitors or phone calls; another social worker at that hospital (I think Ros), confirmed with Uncle John he wanted us to be kept in touch and up to date with everything; this should also be on file.

6) When my daughter and I had to fly back to England, Toni Leahy, the Volunteer Co-ordinator at St Vincent’s, arranged for a lady called Fiona to visit Uncle John on the ward and help him with our phone calls. If the reception was bad, she would write down what we said, and gave it to Uncle John to read, and we managed with this very well. Anyone wishing to check this could contact Toni Leahy.

7) When Uncle John transferred to TriCare Nursing Home in Jindalee, on 1 May, it was Mr Voigt, the Palliative Care Manager at St Vincent’s Hospital, who told us about the move, because he was aware Uncle John’s son would not let us know. 

8) It is clear that it is Uncle John’s son who directed the Jindalee facility not to allow telephone calls and visits. His son also forbade Megan Hunt, the British Vice-Consul in Brisbane, from visiting Uncle John, along with other friends who have asked permission to visit. 

9) When Wendy and I were with Uncle John in March 2019, we made a video of him happily reminiscing about things he had done in his life. This is the YouTube link to the video - you may have to copy this and paste into your browser  https://youtu.be/H97l8T9aa6A and you will see how sprightly and lucid he was, and happy to talk to us. 

10) I will copy and paste an e-mail I sent to Graham Voigt, Palliative Care Manager at St Vincent’s Hospital, dated 17 June 2019. I have highlighted the relevant paragraphs that relate to the time Uncle John’s son wrote the letter that was attached to Uncle John’s file, forbidding his father to be taken out of the facility, i.e. about a week before my daughter Wendy arrived back in Brisbane on 15 June 2019.  (QCAT know all this already, but perhaps you could remind them of what I have sent to them, and ask QCAT to take this up and check with the facility when the letter was put on file, bearing in mind his son has been isolating Uncle John for a long time). 

If QCAT also wish to check and prove the history of Uncle John’s son’s other efforts to isolate his father, perhaps they could contact the people I have listed above, by e-mail.

Yours sincerely

Alexandra Wilde

My e-mail to Graham Voigt, 17 June 2019.

Dear Graham
I do hope you are keeping well, and that everything is running smoothly at St Vincent's Hospital; we are all fine, and I am still burning the midnight oil! and I do hope you might not mind my contacting you again, about my Uncle John.

He has settled down very happily in TriCare Aged Residence in Jindalee, and the staff are very lovely and helpful. 

When he first moved in, I rang Uncle John every couple of days; he was his usual, normal, positive self, but one day he was so downhearted; his son had been to see him and had seriously depressed him, saying, “Oh, well, dad, you haven’t got long to live, now!” I immediately rang the care home reception again, and the nurses were horrified about this and said they would send someone to be with Uncle John and give him some TLC!

Wendy decided she would get another week’s leave and fly back to see him; she arrived last Saturday, 15 June. Of course we told Uncle John about her plans, and that she would like to take him out and about - she is only in Brisbane for 1 week, but has hired a car, and he would really enjoy a few trips out, to Sizzles  or to see the ducks at Forest Lake. We checked with the staff if that would be o.k., and if he was well enough, and everyone thought it would be a lovely idea.  Uncle John was so delighted to see her, and looking forward to going out with her, but some time later, the nursing staff came to Wendy to say they were very sorry to tell her, she would not be allowed to take him out of the facility, without his son’s permission. His son had written a letter stating this, which apparently has been attached to his file only about a week ago. The staff then rang Johnny to seek his permission, and he refused. The staff  also told Wendy that, as far as they know, Johnny has not taken his dad out, either. 

Wendy also saw Uncle John had no outdoor shoes in his wardrobe, and minimal clothing. Uncle John then confided in Wendy how unhappy he is with the way his son is conducting his finances; his son has closed his father’s bank account without Uncle John’s permission, and Uncle John has no personal spending money at all. When Uncle John protested about this, his son said, he didn’t need any money whilst he is in the nursing home, because everything is provided for him there.

We are very distressed at the way Uncle John is being treated. Apart from losing all control of his money, he was not given an opportunity to go back to the Unit in which he lived in Marsden Gardens, so he was not allowed to retrieve any personal possessions, such as a favourite book, memento or photographs. He knows he couldn’t have many items in the nursing home, but to have nothing, is very upsetting for him.

We are very  worried because we think Uncle John’s son is overstepping the Power of Attorney. We are also aware that in the past, Johnny served a four-year jail sentence; we don’t have many details, but believe it was for some kind of fraud. and Johnny’s mother, Marguerite, was also implicated, receiving a 6 months’ jail sentence. We also know Johnny can have a very volatile temper. 

With this in our minds as to how Uncle John’s son may be operating on behalf of his father, we are terribly concerned about it, and at the way it appears he is trying to keep his father isolated from us, who have only Uncle John’s best interests at heart.

I know Uncle John is not your responsibility in any way now, but I wondered if there might be a possibility you could let TriCare at Jindalee know that, if Uncle John has full mental capacity, his son should not prevent him from being taken out of the nursing home for a few hours? I can understand staff there are worried they could be sued for disobeying an order from him, but I am also having to question if his son is behaving illegally, withholding spending money from Uncle John? I have Power of Attorney for my Mum, and I keep every statement for her, every single penny I spend on her behalf is accounted for, and she is never short of money; Uncle John can’t even buy a newspaper or a bar of chocolate. Would this be a case of referring our worries to the  Office of the Public Guardian? - that is, I think, what it is called in England, if someone is not exercising their powers properly and fairly.

Anyway, I hope you will forgive me for getting back in touch with you, but you are someone who knows something of the problems we experienced before with Uncle John’s son, and I will be so grateful for any advice you can give me. 

All the very best

Alexandra

Pushkin, RIP

Pushkin, RIP

Such sad tidings: After all our hopes that Pushkin might rally once again, on Friday evening, 29 January, at about 8.30 p.m.,  she finally found respite from all her respiratory problems. 

In the report I posted on 26 January, after we had got Pushkin home last Sunday from another 48-hour spell in hospital, she was so happy to be home, and was doing very well, and I ended the piece with the wish, "long may it continue."

Alas, it was not to be; on Thursday, she began wheezing again, and was very restless and could not get comfortable. We tried all the usual soothing methods that often work to calm her, but she could not settle. I stayed up with her until 2.00 a.m. on the Friday morning, but she could not find a good spot on my knees. I tried folding up a little towelling square and tucked it under her chin as she lay on the sofa; my thought was, perhaps this would help her to lift her head up, and so ease her breathing, and it seemed to help for a short while, but soon she was seeking a different position. 

Although I could see it was a terrific effort for Pushkin, she was still able to get up on to the sofa herself - my goodness, she was game! and she could also get down on from the cushions back onto the carpet as well. At about 1.45 a.m., she jumped down and went to the back door, sitting patiently until I opened it up for her. I knew she wanted some air, but this time she didn't go out on the patio - she just sat in the doorway, and I hoped the fresh air might help her. 

I could also see how terribly thin she was, and because she hadn't eaten much on Thursday, I was not surprised to see she was a bit wobbly on her back legs as well.

The cool air seemed to help her a little, and her breathing was less laboured, but it was awful to see her like that. 

I had to get some sleep, but the next day - Friday, 29 January - she was still obviously struggling, and we made the decision to take her back to Wylie Vets, and see if they could do something to help her. 

We took her in at 4.00 p.m., and Pushkin was put on oxygen straight away, and given a light sedative to calm her; they promised to ring us to let us know how she was getting on.

When the vet rang at 7.00 p.m., it was not good news. Pushkin had made no progress and there was no sign of improvement. Because they know her so well, once Pushkin was in the special oxygen kennel, they would have expected her to begin to breath better, and start to rally round, but she was still gasping and distressed. She simply could not carry on like that.

It was not a surprise, and we had been half-expecting it, but the actual moment of truth still came as a shock. We said we would drive back to the surgery at once, as we would like to see her and give her a love, before they put her to sleep.

So that is what we did. We arrived at 8.00 p.m., and a lovely nurse brought Pushkin to us. We sat with her on the back seat of the car and talked to her, and stroked her, and told her what a very, very good cat she is. 

In the end, it all happened very swiftly. When we were ready, the nurse came out for Pushkin and took her back to the surgery. Because of the virus and lockdown restrictions, we were not allowed to go in with her, but the nurse said she would hold Pushkin and love her for us, and by 8.40, the nurse brought Pushkin back to us, and said how peacefully she had gone to rest. 

The vet and the nurses all said we could not have done more for Pushkin; because of all our efforts to get her well, she has had something like an extra six months of life, and it's true: Since these problems first appeared, when she has been in a remission, we have enjoyed some wonderfully happy times with Pushkin, and at the first sign of a recurrence, we always took her back to the vet to try to get her restored to full health again. We are firm believers in "Where there's life, there's hope," but there comes a time when you have to accept there is nothing more they can do. 

We brought Pushkin home, to be buried in the garden, alongside Blackie.

The next morning, the last Saturday in January, dawned cold, wet and dingy; Bob was up very early, to prepare the grave for Pushkin and, later that afternoon, we wrapped her up in one of Mum's old nighties, with a scarf under Pushkin's head, and laid her to rest. We sang "All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small..." as it felt appropriate to celebrate her life, and was a hymn that we also sang at Mum's funeral.  

It's hard to say goodbye to a little cat that has shared our lives for 16 years or so! and it's hard to be in a house without a pussy cat in it. It's also something to remember how much Mum was instrumental in bringing Pushkin into our lives, a link that will remain in our memories. 

Pushkin was such an inoffensive little cat; a cat without a meow, but still a great communicator of her wishes. When I was ironing, she would sit beside me, waiting until I got the message that she wanted me to take off my left slipper, and tickle her ears with my toes.... and she would sit beside Bob whilst he was still eating his dinner, with the clear indication he should hurry up and finish, as she was in need of a cuddle on his knee.... and I still think I catch a glimpse of her tail by the back door, as she used to wait to go out, or feel the faint brush of her fur as she walked past me. 

We miss her, and Blackie, so much, but we will always remember them, and all the joy they brought into our lives.