Freddie and Meg
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
Freddie, late 50s, has a rare genetic syndrome that causes development delay and learning disability.
Meg, his mum, is his only surviving family.
Freddie has been living in the same home for more than 15 years.
When the NDIS was established, a large disability service provider began managing the home.
‘The first year or so they were sort of on their best behaviour because … it was like a probation,’ Meg told the Royal Commission.
After about year the old staff started leaving. New staff were casual and the standard of care declined. Meg discovered the new staff didn’t have any qualifications or experience. She believes the provider was trying to save money.
‘Our family are just cash cows, that’s all they are.’
Meg told the Royal Commission Freddie started suffering.
A speech pathologist had developed a feeding plan for Freddie to help him swallow and avoid choking. Staff needed to sit on his right and feed him slowly.
One lunchtime Meg arrived for a visit. She saw a staff member standing at the end of the table with his arm outstretched trying to feed Freddie.
‘The food was just all running out the side of his mouth.’
Meg asked the staff member what he was doing. He put the plate down and asked if she was going to make a complaint.
‘I said, “You can bet I am.” And that’s where it all started.’
The provider covered for the staff member and asked a speech pathologist to review Freddie’s feeding plan. Meg refused because he’d only recently been assessed.
‘I was assertive, they were quite frustrated with the fact that I could question them as the guardian.’
The provider became ‘vindictive’ and made an application to become Freddie’s guardian.
At the hearing, the administrator decided Freddie would be best served by the public guardian because the dispute was between the provider and the parent.
‘Ever since he’s been under the public guardian nobody’s caring for him.’
Now when Meg rings the house to ask how Freddie is, staff refuse to give her information, telling her to contact the public guardian.
Meg said the house is very cold and the heating is never turned on.
‘The staff … they all come in rugged up … and the residents … they can’t create their own body warmth because they’re just sitting and they’re not moving around.’
More than one resident has died of pneumonia in the past year.
Recently an ambulance took Freddie to hospital.
Meg rang the home desperate to know what had happened and whether he had pneumonia. Staff told her to talk to the public guardian.
‘Under the public guardian I have been completely treated like a leper.’
Freddie did have pneumonia and is still recovering.
Meg said the public guardian doesn’t communicate with her about Freddie’s health and liaises directly with the provider.
‘They won’t even tell me he’s gone to the doctors … I don’t exist anymore as his mother.’
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.