Teddy and Patsy
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.
Teddy is in his 30s. He is non-verbal, has seizures and uses a wheelchair.
‘[Teddy] is dependent for absolutely everything in his life from other people,’ his mum Patsy told the Royal Commission.
Before Teddy started school, Patsy moved her family to the country town where her parents live.
‘I thought that we would be able to get a bit of a community support around [Teddy]. Anyway, long story short, we didn’t.’
Patsy and her husband struggled to care for Teddy themselves and couldn’t find a service provider.
‘I tried and tried and tried to find a way to keep him near us, but there was nothing available. The only thing they would talk about was foster care. And I wasn’t prepared to do that. I wasn’t prepared to lose him. And I thought if our family can’t cope with his care, what is a foster family going to be able to do?’
Patsy found Teddy a provider and accommodation several hundred kilometres away in the city. He was ‘well cared for’, but after more than a decade she found a service provider in town and moved him back.
‘We … [were] thinking that that would be a better option. And then being stuck in this arrangement where it was just a nightmare. It was just a total nightmare.’
Patsy said Teddy’s new provider struggled to get support staff.
‘And the support staff that they employed they just didn’t have the skills for the job, they didn’t have the training for the job, they didn’t have very much at all.’
The staff restrained him when he vocalised or tried to push them away.
‘He got a pressure sore within … weeks because they left him sitting all day in his chair, not changing him. I just call it the house of horrors.’
Teddy had several falls.
‘He rolled off his shower trolley onto a concrete floor … Another time he rolled down the concrete area outside, luckily onto the grass.’
One support worker who was rostered on at night would leave the house when they thought he was asleep.
Patsy tried to find another provider, but there was none.
When the NDIS started, she moved him into his own unit and took charge of his care.
‘I’ve handpicked all the staff … None of them have certificate three or certificate four or any certificate whatsoever. They are just decent, caring people who I can train. We can do any training and education they require.’
Patsy deals with the NDIS and Teddy’s medical appointments and trains his support workers – ‘a full-time job’ for which she’s not paid. She said there is ‘a lot of goodwill squandered’ when service providers don’t properly train and support their staff.
‘They’re just expected to go in there and work with really complex people … that to me is a huge element that’s missing. There’s so much money that gets allocated, but just the allocation of funds doesn’t make the system work well.’
‘The difference in [Teddy] now is just remarkable and people who have known him over many years comment on it because he feels safe now.’
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.