The can't-do-anything syndrome

August 20, 2007
Carol Goar

Long before it became medically popular to integrate people with disabilities into the community, Toronto's public housing authority was doing it.

Most of its apartments have units set aside for residents who use wheelchairs, need home care or require attendant services. Many of these tenants are highly engaged in the affairs of their building.

The Ontario Health Ministry pays for on-site support, allowing them to live independently (and more cheaply than they could in an institution.)

The arrangement works remarkably well – at least it did until four months ago.

This spring, Toronto Community Housing Corporation (TCHC) started getting worried calls from tenants in two of its developments, Senator Croll Apartments near the University of Toronto and Doug Saunders Apartments in the Eglinton-Dufferin neighbourhood. They were being told they would have to move.

TCHC wasn't pushing them out. "They're part of the fabric of our community," said Maurice Brenner, manager of human rights and equity for the social housing provider.

The pressure was coming from the agencies that provide their attendant care. They were "consolidating their operations" and said they could no longer offer full-time service at the two sites. Clients could either apply for reduced "outreach" services or move to an institutional setting.

So far, only 27 tenants are affected, but TCHC fears the number will grow.

All summer, Brenner and Rosario Marchese, the MPP for Trinity-Spadina, have been working behind the scenes to resolve this mess. They have hit bureaucratic roadblocks at every turn.

Finally, in frustration, they decided to go public.

Here is what seems to have happened. On April 1, Health Minister George Smitherman implemented his long-promised plan to restructure the delivery of medical services in Ontario. He handed funding and decision-making responsibility – plus two-thirds of his ministry's budget – to 14 regional authorities known as local health integration networks (LHINs).

"Ontario patients will benefit from this transition," he promised. "They will experience shorter wait times and receive better care."

The ministry's contracts with thousands of health-care agencies – providing everything from nursing care to addiction services – were transferred to the LHINs.

Toronto's LHIN, for instance, assumed control of 18 hospitals, 37 long-term care homes and more than 100 community service providers. They included Morrison Residence Foundation, which provides attendant care at Senator Croll complex, and PACE Independent Living, which does the same at the Doug Saunders complex.

Shortly afterward, both agencies told their clients they would be withdrawing from their respective buildings.

Some of the tenants believe this is a cost-cutting measure instigated by the LHIN. Others think the service providers are acting in anticipation of such a request. Either way, their clients are left in the lurch.

Marchese took their case directly to Smitherman. The minister asked his officials to look into it. They determined they couldn't do anything because the two agencies now report to the LHIN.

So the veteran New Democrat went to the Toronto Central LHIN. Its staff said they couldn't do anything until the agencies' contracts came up for renewal.

In sum, 27 people whose lives are being shattered have no recourse.

If necessary, Brenner says, he will help them file complaints with the Ontario Human Rights Commission. He believes they have strong grounds for claiming discrimination on the basis of disability.

He hopes it won't come to that. He can't believe health-care bureaucrats would drive vulnerable tenants out of their homes.

It does defy belief.