It was a normal school day. During my lunch break, I checked my school emails … nothing of major importance. For some reason, I then went to my personal emails, which I very rarely did during school hours, and saw a new email from the disability service, in fact from the Head of the Health Care Team.

 I was instantly alert and opened it. Just a little email to inform me that Jonathan had fallen out of his bed during the night, it read. I needn’t worry – he was fine, but as a precaution they were taking him to the dental hospital nearly two hours away, later that afternoon. He was eating and drinking normally, and I had no reason for concern.

I would have thought a phone call might have been more appropriate, but I assumed therefore that the visit to the dental hospital was a precaution rather than anything major.

They sent the same email to Sheryl, who was not working that day. She decided to meet them at the Dental Hospital. They arrived with Jonathan at around five in the afternoon.

To say Sheryl was horrified is an understatement. She was aghast at what she saw.

Jonathan’s face was swollen dreadfully, his lips were three times their normal size, and pain and fear clouded his eyes. She took photographs. His face looked grotesque. She gave me copies of the photos, which I have kept – but very few people have seen them. They are too shocking and confronting.

They proceeded towards the emergency entrance, and people moved aside to let his wheelchair pass, as they could see that his need for immediate treatment was greater than theirs. Sheryl told me that people were gasping in horror at the sight of his face.

Whatever had happened? Sheryl demanded to know more detail. She could see that her son was still in shock, as well as extreme pain, more than twelve hours after his accident. There was no way Jonathan could have been eating and drinking normally. One glance at the photos and anyone could see that that would be impossible.

The official line was that a care worker had wanted to change him during the night. She’d turned away “for a few seconds” to get more linen, and he had fallen from his bed to the hard wooden floor, face down, smashing his teeth on the bedside table as he went.

This implausible story could not possibly have been true – or at least only the latter part was true! He had indeed fallen face-down and smashed his teeth.

Jonathan’s movement was extremely limited. He had to have been positioned right on the edge of the bed to fall out; for him to move from the centre of his bed to the edge would have taken him hours. It was absolutely impossible for this to happen within a few seconds or even several minutes. He just did not have that mobility.

As a safety precaution he had always had bed rails on both sides of the bed. The care worker obviously had lowered the rail on one side to change him and forgotten to put it back up. Possibly the rail had not even been up even at bedtime. Whichever was the case, the rail had to have been down for several hours.

Carelessness and neglect: the person responsible had failed to put his rail up to keep him secure.

She rang for the nurse to come from the next-door house to help her put him back into his bed, and then early the next morning she rang the Head of the Health Care Team to report the “incident”.

In response to questioning, the care worker told the Head of the Health Team that Jonathan was fine, and he was eating and drinking normally. The Head was satisfied and did not pay a visit to his home to see for herself, despite it being only a ten-minute drive from her office.

Apparently, a further phone call gave her the idea to send him to the dental hospital “to check his teeth”. By the time he arrived thirteen hours after the accident, the swelling was ghastly to look at.

Finally, he was admitted. His two front teeth were smashed up into his gums – apart from the fragments of teeth left behind on his bedroom floor. Indentations were visible on his small bedside chest of drawers.

Surgery was necessary to remove the fragments from his gums, a delicate and painful procedure.

However, all the operating theatres were either full or unavailable. He had to submit to this painful procedure in the dentist’s room – without anaesthetic.

After all, Sheryl was told, “these people” don’t feel pain like normal people do.

He was, however, given Panadol. The two-hour trip home was long and wearying.

Did the Head of the Health Care team visit him that evening? No. She took more than thirty-six hours to pay him a visit.

So … our Jonathan lost his two front teeth in the most dreadful way.

I was upset and angry. Angry that the truth was not forthcoming. Angry that no apology was offered – ever – by the worker concerned. Angry that she could get away with lies, and simply be transferred to another Group Home.

Why did she not call the Head of the Health Care Team immediately? Why was an ambulance not called in the moments after the accident happened? That was the protocol. All care workers should have known that, and so should the nurse in the neighbouring house.

But I was even angrier with the Head of the Health Care Team. Why did she herself not call for an ambulance when she heard about the accident the next morning? Why was he not taken even just to a local doctor for a check-up? How did she know he had no broken bones?

The answer was very simple. She asked questions, and they said he was fine, she assured me. How could the care workers know he was fine and that he had no broken bones without a medical check-up?

I was only an ex-foster mother, and here I was questioning the Head of the Health Care Team? She was obviously annoyed.

I remember her words very clearly. “I diagnosed over the phone that he had no broken bones!”

“Even doctors could not and would not “diagnose” that someone had no broken bones without seeing the person face to face, and doing a thorough check-over with X-rays if necessary! No doctor would dream of declaring that a person had no broken bones, by a mere phone call!” I replied. “There was absolutely no way you could possibly tell!”

Let’s just say she was not pleased with me.

“Furthermore,” I continued, “Why did you take so long to get him to the dental hospital? Why did you not at least go in the evening to check how he was?  Why did you take thirty-six hours before you could be bothered to go and see him? Your role is to be present and active in an emergency!”

We already had had disagreements about his feeding. Here I was, again challenging her authority. She would not overlook this, nor would she forget. She would get even with me.

I asked the CEO about the organisation paying for him to have false teeth or implants inserted. He assured me they would be happy to pay for any dental work …. That was the least they could do! He smiled ingratiatingly.

Was he afraid we would sue the company for negligence and failure to follow written medical protocols? We could have, and perhaps should have; there was no doubt that Jonathan would have received a tidy sum.

However, we were very aware that there were no other places for Jonathan. The majority of the hands-on staff were excellent, now that a few had been removed. It seemed we only had issues with the hierarchy, the upper echelons who were not used to being challenged.

I did not want them to punish me by punishing Jonathan. He was the one who had to live under their rule and care, and I did not want to jeopardise his placement.

Later they assured us that they had indeed checked out the possibility of dental repair work – but the dentists said that he did not have enough bone strength and calcium in his gums for implants to be possible. No one would consider it. I hope and assume that was the truth.

There was still no apology. I raised this and was curtly told, “Of course we are sorry, but accidents will unfortunately happen …”

 Yes, accidents do happen, but often they can be prevented by appropriate care ….

The following year we received his annual health report. There was a one or two-line mention of the accident involving his teeth.

And there were two other words, with no detail given. Perhaps they were hoping I would not notice. Perhaps they thought I would not understand big words.

Fractured mandible.

Broken jaw.

When he fell out of bed that night, Jonathan had not only smashed his teeth, but had also sustained a broken jaw! A diagnosis by telephone did not pick THAT up! And he was said to be eating and drinking “normally”? I don’t think so!

Those two words were never mentioned, either before or since, by the disability organisation. The health report was filed on my computer, along with all his other health reports, and all my other emails ….

It also would be important in the future.