
Pinned Down
Devereux Cleo Wallace cited for violations of restraint policy in
the death of 15-year-old Orlena Parker
July 24-30, 2003
by
Kathryn Eastburn
We don't know a lot about Orlena Parker. We know that she was 15
years old with black hair more than 2 feet long. We know that her
middle name was Leatrice. We know that she was a member of the Salt
River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community of Arizona.
We know that Orlena Parker suffered from depression and had lived
for 18 months in Colorado Springs at Devereux Cleo Wallace
residential treatment facility for mentally ill children until her
death on March 10, 2003. We know that on that day she became
agitated and was pinned face down by at least six, possibly seven,
adult staff members.
We know that after struggling for several minutes, Orlena Parker
stopped breathing and died. Details of exactly how she died vary
from one account to another.
On March 11, Colorado Springs Police Department Lt. Skip Arms
said: "She was very aggressive. ... Because of her aggressive
actions six men and one woman had to restrain her." According to the
initial report in the Gazette, police said Parker "resisted
for a short time, and when she stopped, staff let go and realized
she wasn't breathing."
Yet the El Paso County coroner's official report noted that
Parker had been restrained by six staff members, not seven.
"According to their statements," the report said, "she was placed
on the floor with four individuals restraining her arms and two
individuals restraining her legs. Approximately 10 minutes into the
restraint she suddenly vomited and then became unresponsive."
Cardiopulmonary resuscitation was administered and Parker was
transported to Memorial Hospital where she was pronounced dead at
8:41 p.m. The coroner concluded that the cause of death was
undetermined.
In yet another account, reported by El Paso County Department of
Human Services (DHS) to the State of Colorado DHS, "staff had
stepped away from the restraint and had come back periodically to
check on the child."
We don't know which account accurately reflects what happened on
March 10. The 300-page police report of the incident has been
withheld from the public at the advice of city attorney Pat Kelly,
who cited Colorado Juvenile Code, which is designed to protect the
confidentiality of juveniles.
After reviewing the file, 5th Judicial District Attorney Jeanne
Smith determined that no criminal charges would be pursued in the
case.
In addition, an investigation by the county Department of Human
Services found no evidence of child abuse.
However, following its own inquiry, the Colorado Department of
Human Services has cited Devereux Cleo Wallace for at least four
violations of restraint policy. They are recommending the
institution fix its policy and better train its staff, and are
recommending negative licensing, a process to be considered by the
attorney general's office that, according to Colorado DHS Public
Relations Director Liz McDonough, is "in process now and hasn't been
concluded."
Negative licensing, said Ken Lane of the attorney general's
office, could mean anything from restrictions or corrective actions
to the removal of a license altogether.
Whatever the attorney general's office decides, the death of
Orlena Parker raises difficult and disturbing questions: Was this
death the result of institutional failure or was it an isolated,
aggravated incident? Does Devereux Cleo Wallace, a facility that has
faced state investigations and charges of overuse of restraints in
the past, train its staff adequately and put enough resources into
crisis intervention techniques to keep other children safe? Is
physically restraining patients a last resort at the facility or is
it a commonly used practice? How do institutions with clients who
might become aggressive best prepare themselves to de-escalate a
situation that could become deadly?
Was Orlena Parker's death a rare and isolated tragedy or was it
an accident waiting to happen?
Trouble behind
Devereux Cleo Wallace is housed on the bucolic100-acre site of
the historic Myron Stratton home in south Colorado Springs. A second
facility is in the Denver suburb of Westminster. The Springs center
has 118 beds, treats males and females aged 5 to 21 and has a
special program for dually diagnosed mentally ill and
developmentally delayed children whose IQs fall between 55 and 70.
Some of their clients, like Orlena Parker, come from out of
state, and many of them have complex mental health problems. Cleo
Wallace typically accepts referrals of children with aggressive
behaviors, often following interrupted placements elsewhere because
of running away or serious behavior problems. It's not an easy place
to work and likely not a place where the practice of using physical
or mechanical restraints on patients will ever completely be
eliminated.
But Devereux Cleo Wallace, formerly Cleo Wallace before it
partnered with the Pennsylvania-based Devereux Foundation in 1999,
has faced accusations of excessive use of restraints in the past. In
1993, 17-year-old Casey Collier, an autistic boy who was 6 feet 5
inches tall and weighed 220 pounds, died of asphyxiation after being
held in a physical restraint hold in a Cleo Wallace facility.
In 1998, the Nevada Department of Social Services pulled three of
its children, members of the Moapa band of Paiute Indians, out of
Cleo Wallace, saying the children had reported incidents of
immediate takedown and frequent use of restraint. In February of
1999, Nebraska Health and Human Services pulled 25 children out of
Cleo Wallace noting safety concerns.
In September of 1999, El Paso County Department of Human Services
temporarily suspended referrals to Cleo Wallace because of concerns
over restraints and the ways that children who were acting out were
subdued in the facility. Shortly after the child welfare
administrator, Lloyd Malone, announced his concerns, the Devereux
Foundation sent experts to Colorado Springs to train Cleo Wallace
employees in safe and effective ways to de-escalate volatile
situations and reduce the use of physical and mechanical restraint.
At that time, a state investigative team concluded that Cleo
Wallace used restraints too often. But the state didn't apply
serious sanctions because the institution pledged to change its
practices.
Last week, Devereux Cleo Wallace administrator David Fletcher-Janzen
declined to release a copy of the facility's current restraint
policy, including any revisions that have been made since 1999,
"Our policy on use of restraints is proprietary," he said.
Also proprietary are statistics on the frequency of use of
restraints at the facility. "The only oversight group that
information would flow to is the board of the Devereux Foundation,"
he said. "It is considered privileged and protected information. If
it is public information, that often adds undue pressure on a
certain strategy or technique. It's better to keep it internal so
that we can use it to improve our performance."
Fletcher-Janzen said that Devereux Cleo Wallace offers extensive
training to staff.
"There is a program put together based upon research and best
practices nationwide called Crisis Prevention and Intervention
(CP/I)," he said. "The Devereux Foundation trains trainers who go
around the country and train and retrain staff with programs
tailored toward the type of client served. [The program] is aimed
for prevention, then de-escalation of the situation. The third step
is that when you do use restraints, you are using certain approved
techniques."
Janzen said that DCW has "a very comprehensive performance
improvement program that runs from the ground level all the way up
to the corporate level," where treatment procedures are tracked and
analyzed to identify trends and a task force then "helps us improve
in areas where help is needed."
While the state requires that residential treatment facilities
keep internal records on the use of restraints, it generally does
not review that information unless an inspection or an investigation
is going on.
"We have a very open relationship with the county and the state
and encourage them to come out and visit any time," Janzen said.
Rules of restraint
Devereux Cleo Wallace staff might have been trained in
de-escalation techniques and proper use of restraints, but according
to the state, on March 3 they made several mistakes in handling the
restraint of Orlena Parker.
In his inspection for the state of Colorado Department of Human
Services, inspector Barry Schultz cited these violations of Colorado
statutes and the facility's own internal policies:
1) Staff failed "to communicate and disseminate treatment
information per the Behavioral Support Plan (BSP) as well as review
it monthly" as required by Residential Training Center rules.
Specifically, a clinician is responsible for creating and revising
the plan and all staff working with the client are responsible for
implementing it during working hours. Although Orlena Parker was
admitted to Devereux Cleo Wallace on Aug. 1, 2001, and a Behavioral
Support Plan is supposed to be completed within 40 days, the only
plan found was dated November 2002, 15 months following her
admission. Parker's plan restricted the use of facedown prone
restraint because of her obesity; she weighed 270 pounds. In
addition, the Behavioral Support Plan was the only place this
restriction was noted, though it also should have been included in
daily progress notes under Special Treatment Procedure. Further, the
Behavioral Support Plan is part of the patient's treatment plan and
should have been reviewed monthly. "Had the BSP been appropriately
disseminated and implemented," the report concludes, "the
appropriate restraint technique may have been utilized." The
training manual used by Devereux Cleo Wallace stated that a facedown
prone restraint should not be used on a child 30 percent over
recommended body weight. Orlena Parker's weight exceeded that
percentage.
2) Devereux Cleo Wallace failed "to include pertinent physical
monitoring information for the restraint process" in their Seclusion
and Restraint Policy as required by state quality standards. The
policy "did not address how the facility monitors the physical
well-being of the child during and after the restraint, including
but not limited to breathing, pulse, color and signs of choking or
respiratory distress." El Paso County DHS' initial report indicated
that staff said they had moved away from the child and came back to
check on her, even though a CP/I trainer said they were trained "not
to leave the side of a patient who is lying still after a
restraint."
3) Staff failed "to exhaust all positive
and constructive methods of dealing with the child prior to
utilization of physical restraint," per restraint policy and rules.
Orlena Parker was agitated and acting out in her bedroom, according
to the report, and not a present danger to other children or to
staff. Staff said they didn't know if she was a danger to herself,
although she had been in the facility for 18 months. Rather than
attempting to enact an accepted de-escalation scenario, they tried
to get Parker out of her room by walking away with a softball she
had thrown at the door, supposedly to lead her to "the quiet room."
She became angry and attacked the staff member holding the ball and
was then restrained facedown on the floor. The CP/I trainer did not
recognize this as a de-escalation technique. According to Schultz,
this intervention also violated "the child's right to have
reasonable and appropriate adult guidance, support and supervision."
4) The restraint used violated
Devereux Cleo Wallace's own training manual on how to apply
restraint. Although the inspector acknowledged that the restraint
was justified based on Parker's attack on the staff member, the
method was faulty. The manual states that up to four, even five
staff can be used, "but presents no conditions for more than five
staff." If five staff members are used, three should be on the lower
body and one on each arm. In Parker's case, according to the report
at least six staff members -- possibly seven, depending on
conflicting reports --held her down with two adults on each arm.
The state report concludes with recommendations that the process
of communicating Behavioral Support Plan information to staff be
improved, that the facility modify its Seclusion and Restraint
Policy to address issues of monitoring the child carefully, and that
it ensure that de-escalation and physical management techniques be
conducted in accordance with the CP/I training manual.
Devereux Cleo Wallace has until Aug. 1 to respond.
Mark Ivandick, an attorney with the Legal Center of Colorado,
designated by the governor to provide protection and advocacy for
people with mental illness, says the Center is also investigating
Orlena Parker's death and restraint practices at Devereux Cleo
Wallace.
"Any report of a restraint-related death has to come to us; we
follow up with an investigation," said Ivandick. "Also, we follow up
on complaints, usually by clients who have been restrained, to look
and see whether there's any system or policy that needs to be
changed to protect other residents.
"We have special access to any internal investigations at the
facility, to patient records, et cetera," he said. "We make
recommendations to the facility on how they do business; if they
refuse to change their policy and we believe it's important enough
to protect others, then we can file an injunction."
As the state agency in charge of protection and advocacy, Legal
Center attorneys report any licensing violations to licensing
entities such as the Board of Nursing, the Board of Medical
Examiners, or in this case, the state of Colorado Department of
Human Services Mental Health Division.
"It's more or less a licensing issue," said Ivandick. "If they're
violating the law or regulations for Residential Training Centers,
for 24-hour facilities for children, they can be subject to having
their license pulled."
The Legal Center report on Orlena Parker's death and restraint
practices at Devereux Cleo Wallace is currently pending.
Good faith
Nancy Lanning, manager of Residential Services for El Paso County
Department of Human Services, says that Cleo Wallace responded well
to complaints made in 1999.
"There was a time [a few years back] when we were very
concerned," said Lanning. "It kind of seemed as if restraint was
sometimes their first resort rather than the last resort.
"Cleo was very responsive to hearing our concerns. I know they
underwent some very serious policy making, training and retraining
of the staff. The number of incidents of use of restraints really
did go down."
Lanning emphasizes equally the difficulty of managing children
with serious mental illness and behavior problems, and the mandate
of the county to monitor use of restraints and potential abuse.
"The kids they take have serious, serious problems," she said. "I
don't know how it must feel when one of those kids gets out of
control."
A child welfare intake team, ISAT (Institution Safety Assessment
Team), investigates any allegations of child abuse from use of
restraints. "We investigate them all," said Lanning, "but we don't
actually keep a record of the number of times restraints are used in
all our facilities."
Most of the investigations, she said, are "fairly routine" and
most are handled by the workers. If an accusation of abuse or
neglect is confirmed, the team meets with managers and supervisors
from DHS, representatives from the facility in question and
representatives of the licensing agency.
"We come to a conclusion -- what are the actions that need to be
taken?" said Lanning. "Do we (DHS) want to say that we don't want to
use this facility any more? We could suspend using them for three
months and in that time we expect this, this and this to happen.
"We don't just shirk it off and say, 'Oh, that's a difficult kid'
or 'Would you want to take care of that kid?' Our people are very
well trained. And the state has improved its training and
expectations."
Still, says Lanning, despite safeguards, things happen. At
particular risk are kids placed out of state.
"We don't have the wherewithal to monitor our kids placed out of
state face to face," she said, adding that DHS tries not to place
kids out of state. "As a system, we don't have a way to see them.
The caseworker is in contact by telephone with the kid as well as
with the facility; the CASA [Court Appointed Special Advocate]
worker is in contact, but none of us are seeing him. The worker
accompanies the child when they're placed; you have a sense of where
you're leaving them. But it's not the same as, 'Oh, I'm in the
neighborhood I think I'll pop in.'"
Each institution decides for itself how and when to use
restraints, says Lanning, and there's no way to predict when or how
often restraint might be used.
"You never know when this particular child is going to push
somebody's buttons despite all the safeguards in place," she said.
Caseworkers with clients in residential treatment facilities,
says Lanning, have to be notified after a physical restraint is
used.
El Paso County DHS Child Welfare Administrator Lloyd Malone said
the county's role in the Stage I report following Orlena Parker's
restraint and death was to determine "whether the action or inaction
on the part of the staff was directly responsible for the outcome."
They concluded it was not.
"We look for abuse and neglect, not policy infractions," said
Malone. "It's an interesting and difficult dilemma in our society
how you handle these very difficult kids. These facilities become
the flash point for public interest after an incident like this, but
ultimately it's a public policy issue."
Malone believes that Devereux Cleo Wallace has made significant
improvements in their use of restraint since 1999.
"A kid this big that gets out of control so quickly, things
happen so fast. That's why it becomes an interesting public policy
issue," he said. "Sometimes these little events happen and it
appears that something could have been done. I think the facility
was doing everything they could for this kid."
A big damn deal
Proper use of restraints on children in mental health facilities
is literally a matter of life and death, says Judith Schubert,
president of Crisis Prevention Institute, an organization whose
Nonviolent Crisis Intervention Training Program has been taught to
more than 4.5 million people worldwide.
Though she could not speak specifically about Orlena Parker's
death or Devereux Cleo Wallace's restraint policies, Schubert spoke
openly about the mortal danger physical restraint can pose.
"When you restrict movement of the diaphragm, you restrict a
person's ability to breathe," said Schubert. "An open airway is just
one part of breathing. It's interesting that you'll still see in [an
institution's] policy -- no covering of the airway, meaning the
mouth or nose. That's where the policy stops."
The physical risk of restraint cannot be ignored if there's a
chance it's going to be used in a treatment setting, says Schubert.
And it's important that staff understand -- someone could die.
"It's risky to say it'll never happen here. We give a little book
to all our instructors, all our staff. I guess in that way we put it
out there -- if you restrict someone's breathing, you're going to
kill her.
"My guess would be that most people who work in a place where a
death occurs don't know that it can actually happen," she said.
"Adrenaline kicks in, we revert to a primal nature. You have to
retrain that -- your body may want to get down on all fours and
fight back. That's survival.
"You're really talking about human behavior in extreme, chaotic
moments and how to prepare people for scenarios they're most afraid
of."
Martha Holden of Cornell University agrees. Her mission is to
prevent institutional child abuse, trying to determine the root
cause by conducting research on incidents of abuse and death by
restraints.
Holden cites several root causes coming together at the same time
when a fatal incident occurs, not just an incorrect hold. For
example, she said, staff might abandon the agency's accepted crisis
intervention process and make their own decisions about how to
restrain an aggressive patient.
"Another thing that generally happens is that signs of distress
are ignored, like throwing up, because that's what kids do," Holden
said.
In addition, she says, out-of-state placements put certain kids
at additional risk, because of less direct oversight by caseworkers
and family members. And in institutions where physical restraint is
routinely used, the danger is often underestimated.
"The more people rely on physical intervention, the less aghast
they are," Holden said. "They're not thinking this is a high risk,
dangerous intervention. It loses the edge it should have.
"It's a big damn deal," she said. "Everyone in the system should
be figuring out how we can manage this kid without doing this."
Mental-health workers must be trained in proper, safe restraint
techniques that are appropriate to the setting, says Schubert, but
more importantly, if restraints are to be used, they must be seen in
context of the entire treatment picture.
"We speak more to assessing all situations," she said. "That
should all happen on intake -- medical conditions, history of acting
out behaviors, signs of anxiety, all of those things should be known
in an assessment process. Obesity is one of those things -- the
treatment plan should include early warning signs. [Staff should
say], 'Let's consider the size of this person. What are we going to
do when she's out of control?' Talk to her about it, you know, 'We
don't see a history here of you becoming physically aggressive, but
if a situation arises, what can we do?' Sometimes the kid will say,
'Here's what helps me.'"
Holden's training program, Therapeutic Crisis Intervention,
recommends that every child with aggressive behavior have a crisis
management plan that identifies the triggers, the best way to
de-escalate and the safe way to restrain if restraint is required.
Holden and Schubert agree that regulations and laws governing use
of restraint, while useful, are not the only motivating factors for
positive change. Real change, says Schubert, requires a cultural
shift, an internal commitment by the institution to decide and
follow through with how it intends to treat its patients.
"I understand that the
organizations we work with sometimes have state regulations that
motivate them to improve policy. But other times it's from within;
it's [them saying that] we don't want to do it this way any more.
We've been in what I would call best practice institutions that have
very lax state requirements," said Schubert.
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| The Devereux Cleo Wallace
facility, on the grounds of the Myron Stratton home in south
Colorado Springs. |
| Photo By
Creighton Smith |
"[Those organizations] put a philosophy
in place. They say this is how we treat our kids, even in dangerous
moments. They tell their staff, 'We're going to give you training,
we're going to review incidents; it's all going to be out in the
open. It's going to be something we're going to test you on and
we're going to provide you with the tools.'"
Orlena Parker's death by restraint at Devereux Cleo Wallace has
triggered a state investigation, but the question remains: Will her
death motivate DCW and other facilities to rethink their use of
physical restraint and their philosophy of patient management?
"It's a matter of putting resources, training and staff into the
problem," said Holden. "There are some places where good things are
happening. There are some facilities that work really, really hard
at improving their practice."
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