Imagine being unable to speak or eat, desperately needing care after a grueling battle with cancer, only to be told you’ll have to wait months for the support you need. This is the heartbreaking reality for thousands of older Australians caught in a system that’s failing them. But here’s where it gets even more shocking: despite a royal commission’s recommendations, the government has partially privatized aged care assessments, and the results have been nothing short of devastating.
Take Peter O’Shannessy’s story, for instance. After returning home from throat cancer surgery in January, the 74-year-old was approved for a level-three home care package—a lifeline that would provide essential equipment and a personal carer. Yet, his family was stunned to discover they were just one of 121,000 people in a national queue, facing a wait of seven to nine months. By the time Peter’s cancer returned, he was terminal, yet the system still failed him. Despite desperate pleas for urgent reassessment, he died just four weeks before his appointment. His daughter, Eloise Randall, tearfully recounted his final days: ‘He spent his last couple of weeks feeling like he was drowning… in fear and anxiety,’ she said. ‘My mum was absolutely burnt out, caring for him with no support.’
And this is the part most people miss: the privatization of aged care assessments, which cost taxpayers over $1.2 billion, was never recommended by the royal commission. Instead, it called for a streamlined, independent system. Yet, more than half of the companies now contracted to provide assessments are also service providers or linked to them—a glaring conflict of interest. Even more alarming? Former assessors like Janine Mason have spoken out about the pressure to rush assessments, with some elderly individuals being dropped from waiting lists after just three unanswered phone calls. Is this really the care we want for our most vulnerable?
The government claims wait times are improving, citing a median of 23 days for assessments in the July-September quarter. But families like Peter’s tell a different story. In Cairns, former assessor Coral Wilkinson now helps families navigate this bureaucratic maze, often hearing tales of desperation. ‘People are waiting nine or 10 months,’ she said. ‘They’re in tears, ending up in hospitals because they can’t get support at home.’ She believes the system was ill-prepared for the transition, with assessors lacking the expertise needed for complex cases.
Here’s the controversial question: Did privatization prioritize profit over people? While Aspire4Life, the not-for-profit responsible for Peter’s reassessment, claims it’s investing to meet demand, families like his are left grieving and furious. Eloise’s words haunt: ‘Dad’s final wish was to speak again. We had to speak for him, and we still got nowhere.’*
As we grapple with this crisis, it’s impossible not to wonder: How many more Peters will slip through the cracks? And what will it take for the system to truly prioritize compassion over red tape? Share your thoughts in the comments—this is a conversation we can’t afford to ignore.
