Slipping behind the Waitakeres

After a couple of weeks or more of intense preparation for the visit of the Inquiry Panel, and then talking to them yesterday, today has felt a little anticlimatic. The time with the panel went quite well yesterday, although my preference would have been fewer and simpler messages. One of the most important was picked up by a panel member whom I have known for about 30 years. We worked together on various bodies, and I have always respected her integrity and commitment to quality psychiatric care. Currently she is focussed on housing the mentally ill, and she asked the questions that focussed our presentation onto the need for a greater commitment outside mental health care to housing those who for whatever reason cannot house themselves.

The day started with a meeting I chair with the Ministry of Health appointed District Inspectors. They are lawyers appointed to oversee the function of DHB services in regard to the compulsorily treated patients (the law names them patients in the definitions). It was a useful and co-operative meeting. 

The main part of the afternoon was attending a Zero Suicide steering group meeting. When the quality of housing available to the severely mentally ill includes The Mission (see the extra photo for today), we struggle to convince our patients that they are worthy persons. For some years, this beautiful old building (almost 100 years old) has been a "low cost" option for the mentally ill and others with little in the way of resources and usually less in the way of social acceptance and inclusion. 

Until the Auckland Council responded to media attacks on their policing of basic standards of hygeine (open bags of stinking rubbish, and vermin running through the rooms), the owner of this building made no effort to maintain it. Because of a heritage listing, it would be difficult to pull down unless it was condemned. He was made to clean it up, and still wants to sell. For many times more than he paid for it. He plays the poor me card, not accepting that his greed prevents buyers from being interested. The for sale notices have been here for at least two years.

This evening at the apartment was another grand sunset, as I relaxed on the deck.