48 Trial Lawyer • Fall 2023 the appropriate tort claim notices have been sent to the public entities. The RCF itself is likely a player, but you may also want to look for potential medical malpractice claims. For example, OTLA member Diego Conde and I are filing a case against a medical practitioner who prescribed such a dangerous array of drugs to one patient/resident that he spent months in the ICU recovery unit. The indignities Most of the articles in this edition of Trial Lawyer magazine will likely allude to the same truth — the long-term systems of care in this country are broken. DHS and other regulatory agencies created to protect our vulnerable populations from predatory and negligent care systems are broken. The pandemic only compounded this devastating truth, creating a scenario in which visiting families at RCFs, often the true investigative team, could no longer visit their loved ones in person, allowing abuse and mistreatment to fester and grow, transforming RCFs into unfettered torture chambers. I realize the language is extreme but many of the residents at RCFs truly do not have a voice. They cannot call out and scream for help, they cannot text their families. Often, the evidence of abuse is carried in their eyes, a regression in their communication skills or an increase in outbursts or stimming, selfstimulation that is often characterized by repetitive body movements or movements of objects. RCFs are required to maintain detailed records of their residents but they routinely do not. They are required to notify the authorities (and families, in certain circumstances) of incidents resulting in harm to residents. They routinely do not or do so poorly, without a proper investigation. I believe our non-verbal residents, and especially those whose diagnoses involve behavioral outbursts and require constant supervision, are treated as less than human, particularly when the regulatory spotlight does not shine on these facilities. For instance, when a family of one former client was finally allowed to see their son, they found the bedpost of his bed so encrusted with months of accumulated urine that it had crystallized, resembling a barnacled dock at a pier. RCFs are often for-profit enterprises and one of dozens owned by out-of-state corporations with no real connection to the people and needs of Oregon. They are a business and business is good. RCFs are paid handsomely with our tax dollars, in amounts ranging from $15,000 to $30,000 per resident per month. These businesses want to fill the rooms of a facility, regardless of staffing abilities, capacity or the feasibility of certain residents living in the same facility as the other. There is no doubt the job of a caregiver at a residential care facility is tough. In these cases, RCFs want to point at a “one bad apple” caregiver. I think of one caregiver who beat our client with a broom stick when our client wanted a can of soda. However, we know it is not that simple. These caregivers are given little training, oversight and pay in relation to what they are tasked to perform. Turnover is rampant and many discuss the overwhelming pressures of the job. Essentially, your heart can be in the right place but without structural support for staff as well as residents, the mission is lost and our victims and survivors are left to bear it in silence. If it’s so bad, just leave In some cases, the defense likes to imply the families are morally at fault, if not negligent. They prey on the guilt families feel for what we know was not a voluntary choice to place their child in an RCF or for not being able to remove their child from a harmful RCF. First, the design of the system often discourages parents from making waves. Families Residential Care Facility Continued from p 47
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTY1NDIzOQ==