By SPFT Bereaved Families Unite
A response to a LinkedIn post by the CEO of Sussex Partnership NHS Foundation Trust
Dear CEO
Do you even know us?
Do you even know
Us?
We are the families of the fallen. Is it they you speak of
On LinkedIn
We are the kin
You may have noticed
That one of us posted a comment
In response to your post about your nephew Matty
And the error
Which led to his death.
‘These things happen’ you seem to have said.
Or is that just us?
( do you even know us?)
And it’s true
They do
From time to time
Tired clinician, misplaced decimal point
Do you know of another Matty?
The one whose mother
Commented on your post?
Whose untimely death was no error
But an inevitable, predictable ending to
a hellish tale of misery
Upon misery
26 days in a&e
No therapy
No including family
What would we know after all?
Well here’s the thing
We’ve known since they were small
Their ways in and out of pain
Could we make a team?
Oh sorry, no
It seems we are to blame
Best kept well away
In case the diagnosis currently at play
Is actually nowhere near the mark
Let’s just keep them in the dark
Shall we?
True it’s not ‘best practice’
But we’ve been doing it this way for years
And got away with it
Managers come and they go
Ebb and flow
Including the CEO
We do it our way
As they say
Do you even know us?
Oh - actually, call the family
She’ll be at the door, at 4, ready to leave
Too soon? You thought there’d be a discharge plan?
Ah yes, technically, there would be
But there’s no therapy
And her ASD makes her tricky
You see
A baby? Er… that’s ok
Probably
By midnight
She thinks the baby is a cat
And is back in a&e
They hadn’t given her discharge meds
And childcare with benzo withdrawal
Is somewhat messy
It seems that she could speak plainly
Of her impending death
And her desperation still to be.
Deaf from birth, still she could see
The light of hope
In the darkness
That with the compassion of which you so breezily speak
And the face-to-face assessment
Promised but ‘whoops - mislaid’
She might have a place to retreat
Where clinical expertise
And the milk of human kindness
Are the same
Because they are
The same
Do you know their names?
You speak of inquests
And how they are ‘experienced’ by ‘all parties’
A father tries to look away as the image of his child
Appears on a screen, dead on the floor
Of a hospital room
Are you there
To hear the tone-deaf testimony
Of the ones who really rule the roost
At SPFT
You know who they are
The ones for whom police custody
Is a valid discharge destination
For the shattered shells of broken human beings
A baby’s young mother, a girl’s twin brother
The jury looks up as one
A pen falls
Jaws drop
The psych has lost her rag
How many times are you going to ask the same question
She barks
The barrister, unruffled, pauses, steps back and raises her brow
How many times are you going to ask the same question?
Til the cows come home, we silently vow
Til the cows come home
The morning after the night before
The first day a mother wakes to a world
Where her child does not
A manager visits, and a nurse
They haven’t ‘located the body’ - sorry
The family call round mortuaries
Of the southeast
Until they find
The one that holds their daughter
Where staff are kind and gentle with their words
A mother is reunited
If not in body, then at least in mind
Do you know any of this?
The jury stands
Twelve men and women good and true
Well, you know the rest
Don’t you?
Families bereaved by Sussex mental health services respond with poem to NHS Trust
SPFT Bereaved Families Unite issue a poem in response to a post by the CEO of Sussex Partnership NHS Foundation Trust
By SPFT Bereaved Families Unite
A response to a LinkedIn post by the CEO of Sussex Partnership NHS Foundation Trust
Dear CEO
Do you even know us?
Do you even know
Us?
We are the families of the fallen. Is it they you speak of
On LinkedIn
We are the kin
You may have noticed
That one of us posted a comment
In response to your post about your nephew Matty
And the error
Which led to his death.
‘These things happen’ you seem to have said.
Or is that just us?
( do you even know us?)
And it’s true
They do
From time to time
Tired clinician, misplaced decimal point
Do you know of another Matty?
The one whose mother
Commented on your post?
Whose untimely death was no error
But an inevitable, predictable ending to
a hellish tale of misery
Upon misery
26 days in a&e
No therapy
No including family
What would we know after all?
Well here’s the thing
We’ve known since they were small
Their ways in and out of pain
Could we make a team?
Oh sorry, no
It seems we are to blame
Best kept well away
In case the diagnosis currently at play
Is actually nowhere near the mark
Let’s just keep them in the dark
Shall we?
True it’s not ‘best practice’
But we’ve been doing it this way for years
And got away with it
Managers come and they go
Ebb and flow
Including the CEO
We do it our way
As they say
Do you even know us?
Oh - actually, call the family
She’ll be at the door, at 4, ready to leave
Too soon? You thought there’d be a discharge plan?
Ah yes, technically, there would be
But there’s no therapy
And her ASD makes her tricky
You see
A baby? Er… that’s ok
Probably
By midnight
She thinks the baby is a cat
And is back in a&e
They hadn’t given her discharge meds
And childcare with benzo withdrawal
Is somewhat messy
It seems that she could speak plainly
Of her impending death
And her desperation still to be.
Deaf from birth, still she could see
The light of hope
In the darkness
That with the compassion of which you so breezily speak
And the face-to-face assessment
Promised but ‘whoops - mislaid’
She might have a place to retreat
Where clinical expertise
And the milk of human kindness
Are the same
Because they are
The same
Do you know their names?
You speak of inquests
And how they are ‘experienced’ by ‘all parties’
A father tries to look away as the image of his child
Appears on a screen, dead on the floor
Of a hospital room
Are you there
To hear the tone-deaf testimony
Of the ones who really rule the roost
At SPFT
You know who they are
The ones for whom police custody
Is a valid discharge destination
For the shattered shells of broken human beings
A baby’s young mother, a girl’s twin brother
The jury looks up as one
A pen falls
Jaws drop
The psych has lost her rag
How many times are you going to ask the same question
She barks
The barrister, unruffled, pauses, steps back and raises her brow
How many times are you going to ask the same question?
Til the cows come home, we silently vow
Til the cows come home
The morning after the night before
The first day a mother wakes to a world
Where her child does not
A manager visits, and a nurse
They haven’t ‘located the body’ - sorry
The family call round mortuaries
Of the southeast
Until they find
The one that holds their daughter
Where staff are kind and gentle with their words
A mother is reunited
If not in body, then at least in mind
Do you know any of this?
The jury stands
Twelve men and women good and true
Well, you know the rest
Don’t you?
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