Level of care outstanding

I RECEIVED a text and met him in the local park early on a Thursday afternoon.

He had nothing left. He was afraid with nowhere to go. He believed his housemates wanted to harm him and his accommodation had fallen apart. He had no job, no source of income and was very, very tired.

It was Carnival of Flowers time. Local homeless support services had been scrambling to help me assist him but there was literally no room at the inn. He had little English, no family and I had first learnt of his situation through an acquaintance in Brisbane.

A local counselling service met a few times with him as we tried to unravel what had brought him to this point.

Something had occurred over the previous weekend which had caused his world to come crashing in on him. He told me he had been sacked, but when I rang his workplace I was informed that his employer was extremely happy with him. He had, in fact, resigned.

A mental health episode had taken him from a place of secure accommodation with full-time employment on a Friday to being homeless on the streets with no means of support by the following Thursday.

After some long and difficult conversations I convinced Francis (his name has been changed to protect his identity) that he was not well and needed to get better. He finally agreed and we got a referral to the Toowoomba Hospital for an initial mental health assessment.

Now it’s nearing the end of the year, so I am going to go a bit “bookish” on you. The Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky famously once said, “The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.”

I’d like to extend this notion by placing the same judgment on our mental health facilities. The health of our community can be assessed through the conditions we find in mental health institutions.

When we are admitted to these places we are at our most vulnerable. And I’d like to report that the level of care, professionalism and follow-up that I observed at the Toowoomba Hospital was simply outstanding.

One of the many things we cherish and celebrate as a society is our freedom. You cannot underestimate what a radical step it is to take away a person’s freedom.

As I sat with Francis, accompanying him through an involuntary admission, I witnessed compassion and accountability. I won’t pretend the wait was short or easy, but part of the reason for this were the lengths that the staff went to, ensuring that Francis could clearly communicate with the doctor through an interpreter.

At the conclusion of the assessment Francis was advised that it was in his best interests to spend time being treated for his current condition. He was also advised of his rights as a patient.

I am sure things don’t always go so smoothly but there was a trust built with Francis on that Thursday evening which was crucial for his pathway to recovery.

I witnessed similar care in the secure ward. I saw people treated with dignity, care and good humour. I was touched to observe the care shown by patients towards other patients. This is not accidental. The culture of an institution can nurture or crush acts of kindness and I was blessed on this occasion to witness the former.

I am happy to report that Francis is now living independently in the community in a safe place with ongoing support.

I would hate to count the number of columns over the years where I have shared with you what is wrong with the world. On this occasion I choose to share something that is working well. Nobody wants to find themselves sick or in need of medical attention.

There is still a stigma and fear around mental health. I find great comfort in knowing the level of care that is available free of charge in our local community.

To the doctors, nurses and support staff in the Acute Mental Health Unit at Toowoomba Hospital, I salute you!

The health of our community can be assessed through the conditions we find in mental health institutions.