It’s a Crime

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Chris Hilderbrant

As a wheelchair user for the past 23 years, I take my wheelchair pretty seriously. If I bump my chair into objects, I say ouch. If people touch it without permission, they are often met with a curt “hands off.” If I’m sitting on the couch and a family member sits on my chair, they don’t get to leave my sight.

Wheelchair users and their chairs are quite close; it’s a symbiosis. Coming between us and our chairs is not wise and sometimes it’s even a crime. That is exactly what Todd Spring, Executive Director at Monroe Community Hospital, has committed. Mr. Spring ordered his staff to place a resident in bed and remove his power wheelchair, and consequently his manual wheelchair.

The resident was left without wheelchair “privileges” for FOUR DAYS. This begs the question, do walking people have “leg privileges?”

What atrocity did the resident commit that justified being restricted to bed for four days? He smoked in a non-smoking area on MCH grounds – outside, mind you. The resident, identified as resident #394 in the NYS Department of Health review of the situation, was a 77 year old amputee, a veteran, a chronic smoker, and he was dying of cancer. I’ve never smoked in my life and never will, but I know that when a dying amputee veteran wants a cigarette, you let him have it. If he’s smoking in a non-smoking area, ask him to go elsewhere.

What Todd Spring did was a crime. As best I can read the law, it was Unlawful Imprisonment. When I spoke with officers from the Rochester Police Department, they agreed, but admitted that without the penal code in front of them, it’s unclear how exactly “restraint” is defined.

I don’t really care how it’s defined, I know as a wheelchair user, if you take my wheelchair away from me and force me to stay in bed for four days, it’s a crime. I think kidnapping has a stronger ring to it, but I’m willing to call it Unlawful Imprisonment. You have taken away my mobility and my freedom. You have put me in a place I don’t want to be and trapped me there for four days. This is a crime.

Like anyone else trapped in a room and tied to a bed, if I could get to a phone I’d call 9-1-1. I would call 9-1-1 and expect cops with guns to show up and rescue me and take away the bad guy that did this. But that’s not what Resident #394 did or got. Resident #394 stayed in bed for four days. Multiple staff reports indicate that he wasn’t himself. He was dejected. He was minimally responsive. He complained that the punishment was cruel and unusual.

Resident #394 sucked it up for four days then was given back his wheelchair “privileges.” He died a month later. Two months after his death, during a routine review, state auditors were informed of the incident and began an investigation. You would think that this would be the time when the cops (with the guns) arrive and take away the bad guy, right?

Wrong!

There have been no cops, just bureaucrats. The state auditors did tell MCH that they had to fix the situation, that this kind of punishment was not allowable and that it constituted abuse. It’s basic, but it’s a good start. But from there the auditors failed Resident #394 and everyone else in the facility. Todd Spring was not suspended pending the outcome of the investigation, as would be done to any low level staff accused of a much less serious infraction. Mr. Spring was allowed to continue his job – which pays about $139,000 per year – and was simply restricted from having solo contact with residents.

One of the problems that lead to the initial crime was that Mr. Spring had staff to order around. The state’s report indicates that staff were afraid to intervene or report the abuse of Resident #394 because it was the Executive Director issuing the orders. The plan of corrective action has done little to protect residents and nothing to appropriately punish a man who committed a crime.

I’ve never met Todd Spring, but I have met former residents of MCH. From the stories they share, and those posted on CDR’s Facebook, heard on the radio and on TV of late, it is clear that while the story of Resident #394 is dramatic, it is not particularly unique. Mr. Spring clearly set a tone and established a culture, in which this type of abuse is seen as appropriate.

Mr. Spring’s boss has assured us that her administration will “fix” things. The boss’s spokesperson has assured us that Mr. Spring will remain as the Executive Director. These two things are mutually exclusive. Mr. Spring can either stay as the Executive Director or the County Executive can fix things at MCH. It cannot be both.

Resident #394 has a name. His name is Samuel Condello and he was the victim of an egregious crime at the hands of MCH Executive Director, Todd Spring. If you believe as I do, that at the very least Mr. Spring should resign from his position and the County Executive should work with residents, families, community stakeholders, and the state and federal governments to make real changes at MCH, including getting people out that don’t want to be there, please make your opinion known by contacting the following:

In solidarity with any resident who has had their wheelchair “privilege” revoked,

Chris Hilderbrant
Chief Operating Officer
Center for Disability Rights