Latest news with #homecare
Reuters
12 hours ago
- Business
- Reuters
Reckitt eyes new options to advance Air Wick unit sale, sources say
LONDON, June 3 (Reuters) - Britain's Reckitt (RKT.L), opens new tab is considering new options to advance a sale of its Essential Home business, home to Air Wick fresheners and Cillit Bang cleaners, after bids came in below expectations, two people with knowledge of the process said. The company still plans to pursue a sale, the people said, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the talks are private. Private equity firm Advent remains in talks for the assets, one of the people and a third person said. Reckitt, which also makes Mucinex cold medication and Durex condoms, said in July it was looking to offload a portfolio of homecare brands by the end of 2025. The proposed sale comes at a challenging time for businesses with factories around the world as they navigate U.S. President Donald Trump's tariffs, which are roiling supply chains, boosting costs and dampening shopper sentiment. Reckitt could keep a stake in the business or structure a sale another way to bridge a gap in valuations, one of the people said, adding that some of the bids came in below its hopes of over 4 billion pounds ($5.4 billion). Reuters could not determine if other bidders remained in the process. Reckitt and Advent declined to comment. Bankers and CEOs have hit the brakes on mergers and acquisitions since Trump launched his trade war, with fewer deals getting signed than during the bleakest days of the COVID-19 pandemic and the 2008-2009 global financial crisis. Reckitt said in April that it was "continuing to progress" the sale of the Essential Home business but that market conditions might affect the time frame. Consumer staples companies are considered relatively resilient to economic downturns, but big brands like Reckitt, P&G (PG.N), opens new tab and Unilever (ULVR.L), opens new tab increasingly face competition from cheaper private label brands that gained popularity during the pandemic. Reckitt's Essential Home business has struggled for several quarters, with sales falling 7% in the first quarter of this year to 482 million pounds, about 13% of total revenue for the quarter. Reckitt has been undergoing a turnaround under CEO Kris Licht, who has sought to reassure shareholders concerned about the strength of the company's brands in North America and Europe, where consumer confidence has been dwindling. ($1 = 0.7397 pounds)
CBC
a day ago
- General
- CBC
Independent review ordered into Community Living B.C. after starvation death
Social Sharing The B.C. Crown corporation that oversees the care of developmentally disabled people will have its home-share program independently reviewed after an inquest into a starvation death earlier this year. Florence Girard, a woman with Down syndrome, weighed about 50 pounds when she died in 2018 in the Port Coquitlam home of Astrid Dahl, a caregiver funded through Crown corporation Community Living B.C. (CLBC). After the week-long inquest into Girard's death in January, a jury made 11 recommendations to CLBC, including better pay for front-line caregivers and changes to support family members of a vulnerable individual who want to care for their relative in their home. CLBC, the corporation that oversees the care of developmentally disabled people, was created in 2005. It is in charge of caring for 29,000 British Columbians with disabilities such as autism, fetal alcohol syndrome and Down syndrome. Now, the province says it is commissioning an independent review of the organization's home-sharing program, to be conducted by contractor Tamar Consultancy. "We are reviewing CLBC's home-sharing program to ensure that changes made since 2018 are getting people the highest quality of service possible," read a statement from Poverty Reduction Minister Sheila Malcolmson. The province's statement says that it would create an advisory body made up of individuals, families and service providers to inform the review and give recommendations to the ministry. The review is expected to be finished in the fall. In a news release, the CEO of CLBC's board welcomed the independent review. "We want to do everything we can to make sure this model is as strong as it can be, because this is about keeping people safe, and we believe the number of people supported through the home-sharing model will grow considerably," Shane Simpson said. In its statement, the province says that CLBC made a number of changes after Girard's death in 2018, including mandating home visits every three months and annual doctor visits. WATCH | Down syndome advocate and Girard's sister call for changes: Sister hopes for systemic change as inquest into death of Florence Girard begins 5 months ago Duration 14:50 Organization had faced calls for shakeup Advocates and unions had called for a shakeup of CLBC after the inquest into Girard's death, including demands its board resign. In a statement sent to CBC News at the time, CLBC said that none of its current board members were on the board in 2018 and that by law, the board must include representation from people with developmental disabilities, family members of those who receive services funded by CLBC, and Indigenous people. Following the Girard inquest, CLBC's CEO provided an "unreserved apology" to Girard's family, friends and loved ones and said the organization had failed the B.C. woman's family. In a statement at the time, CLBC said it welcomed the inquest's recommendations and said it was committed to taking concrete actions to strengthen the delivery of home sharing services.
BBC News
a day ago
- General
- BBC News
End-of-life care in Wales 'at breaking point', says Marie Curie
People are living their final days "isolated, in pain and struggling to make ends meet" due to gaps in end-of-life care, a leading charity has said. Marie Curie said one in five hospital beds in Wales were occupied by people in the last year of their lives and "bold, radical" action was needed for services which were at "breaking point". One family said they had to fight to ensure their 85-year-old father could die peacefully at home rather than in a hospital ward. The Welsh government said it provided more than £16m a year to ensure people had access to the best possible end-of-life care. While the charity said a hospital setting is the best possible place for many palliative care patients, many want to spend their final days at home or in the community. Gareth Miles, 85, spent 10 weeks on a ward his family felt did not meet the needs of an older man living with Parkinson's disease. His daughter Eiry Miles said: "There were very lovely staff working on the ward, they were very kind to us, but he [Mr Miles] was in the wrong place."When we realised that Dad's life was coming to an end, we wanted conversations with him, quiet conversations. We wanted to express our feelings, express our love for him."Despite a "great" social worker also recognising home was the best place for Mr Miles, the family said a lack of carers in the community meant he was unable to return. "This situation clearly shows that there are not enough carers, that the profession is not funded sufficiently," added Ms Miles. With the help of Marie Curie , Mr Miles eventually returned to his family home in Carmarthenshire, which his family described as "priceless". Ms Miles added: "When Dad came home there was a change in him straight away, a peaceful feeling."When he laid on the bed at home, he just said 'oh, dyma braf' – 'this is nice' in Welsh - because it was just quiet and peaceful, there was birdsong outside and people he knew around him."Mr Miles died four days later in his home, exactly where he wanted to be. Marie Curie said gaps in care meant "too many people are spending their final days isolated, in pain, and struggling to make ends meet". "End of life care in Wales is at breaking point," said Senior Policy Manager Natasha Davies."Services and staff are struggling to deliver the care people need, when and where they need it. There is an urgent need for change."The charity recognised while hospital was the best place for many palliative care patients, better community and out-of-hours care would allow people to be cared for in their homes."It also means having meaningful conversations with dying people about their care preferences, so their wishes are heard and respected," added Ms Davies. The Welsh government said good palliative and end-of-life care could make a "huge difference" to helping people die with dignity. It said it provided more than £16m a year to make sure people had access to the best possible end-of-life care, including setting national standards and boosting community services.
National Post
2 days ago
- General
- National Post
This Canadian patient has been in the hospital for 9 years and refuses to leave
Roger Foley was admitted to hospital in London so long ago, Justin Trudeau – now gone after nearly a decade as prime minister – was only three months into Canada's top job. Article content The COVID-19 pandemic was still four years away, and the world would not know Donald Trump as a U.S. president – in his first go-round in the job – for another year yet. Article content More than nine years later, Foley is still at the London Health Sciences Centre (LHSC) where he was admitted on Feb. 5, 2016. Article content Article content The 49-year-old, who lives with severe disabilities that limit his ability to move and care for himself, doesn't leave LHSC's Victoria Hospital. Article content Article content Foley gets few visitors to his sixth-floor room and is the first to admit that he doesn't need the level of advanced medical care that Southwestern Ontario's largest hospital provides. He'd rather receive home care by a team of his choosing, a departure from the norm in Ontario's publicly funded system. Article content Instead, Foley remains in an inpatient bed after all these years – at the centre of a protracted legal fight that one expert calls a 'three-way standoff' with LHSC and provincial health care bureaucracies over his care needs. Article content 'He's right in the middle of one of the most complicated policy questions in Ontario's health care system,' said Rosalie Wyonch, associate director of research at the C.D. Howe Institute. Article content 'There's always someone who doesn't want what the public options are and wants their own choices. . . . This patient is at this ambiguous centre point of who should be responsible for their care and how much autonomy should they have in that choice.' Article content Article content Foley, originally from the Ottawa area, has a significant, genetic neurodegenerative condition that limits his mobility. He can't walk and relies on ceiling-track hoists to help him move. He also eats a pureed food diet because he has difficulty swallowing. Article content Article content He's been transferred between units at Victoria Hospital since he was first admitted, including the mental health, nephrology and sub-acute medicine departments. Article content In an interview with The London Free Press, Foley said he'd been living independently in his London apartment with the assistance of home care workers before his hospital admission in February 2016. But he claims the care he received was deeply inadequate and a contributing factor to his hospitalization.
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
How foreign caregivers became Israel's lifelines during October 7 massacre
The bravery and compassion of 'the strangers within your gates': Whose needs do we put first in this moment? Israel's foreign home care came from different corners of the world to dedicate their time and energy to taking care of the Jewish state's most vulnerable members. And when tragedy struck on October 7, these 'strangers among us' found themselves in an impossible scenario: Whose needs do we put first in this moment? As Gaza border communities were ravaged, brutalized in an up-close-and-personal manner, foreign home care workers became front-line defense forces. Between sirens, gunshots, and allegations that terrorists had infiltrated the communities, home care practitioners from across the world shielded those they were dedicated to serving. On October 7, aides from Sri Lanka, the Philippines, Thailand, Ukraine, and others moved their patients into bomb shelters while still taking the time to prioritize their daily needs. They made sure their patients were fed, had diapers changed, received their medication, and even acted as human shields for them. In Israel, the home healthcare sector has seen a remarkable increase in the reliance on foreign workers, particularly in the context of an aging population that requires additional support. These foreign workers have not only become an integral part of Israeli society but also, in many cases, like another member of the family for those they care for. On October 7, caregivers put the person they were dedicated to caring for as their main priority. In moments of strife, they acted on their feet and still put their jobs first. When the October 6 celebrations began, they were filled with joy, music, and a shared sense of belonging. Yet for Camille Jesalva and Monica Biboso, two home care workers living in Gaza border communities alongside the women they cared for, the next morning's events turned into an unimaginable fight for survival. Their fight was not just for themselves but for the people they were brought to Israel to care for. Others, including Paul Vincent Castelvi, were killed while protecting those they came to serve, leaving behind loved ones at the most crucial times. In a panel hosted by Israeli NGO Hotline for Refugees and Migrants, survivors shared their firsthand experiences, while those missing their deceased loved ones paid tribute to the crowd. Camille Jesalva, 32, was initially supposed to be flying back to visit her family in the Philippines for the first time in years, just days before October 7. It was a long-overdue break, especially as she was aching to reunite with her young son. Her long-awaited return had been delayed repeatedly by the COVID-19 pandemic, but this time, it was finally happening. Still, Jesalva decided to stay just a little longer. She postponed her flight to celebrate the holiday of Simchat Torah with her community in Kibbutz Nirim – a choice that would ultimately save lives, including her own. Any good feelings from the night before quickly vanished. Before 6:30 a.m., red alert sirens began to sound. At first, Jesalva thought it was routine. But when the explosions continued for over half an hour, she knew something was deeply wrong. 'I heard Arabic voices outside the window. I said, 'Oh my God, they are here.' That's when I knew they weren't the military.' Jesalva and the 95-year-old woman she cared for, Nitza Hefetz, sheltered inside their home. Despite the growing danger, Jesalva's first thought was Hefetz's well-being. 'She is my reason for being here,' she said. 'As a caregiver, we do everything for them. She was hungry, she needed her medicine. So I ran through the glass doors like I was playing with Hamas, just to help her.' As bullets flew and Hamas terrorists stormed the kibbutz, Jesalva focused on keeping Hefetz calm. 'I was scared of the fire but not yet scared of the people – I still didn't understand.' When the terrorists entered their home, Jesalva took a desperate risk – she approached them directly, hands raised, and offered her belongings. 'I said to the Hamas, 'Shalom adoni,' – 'adoni' ['sir'] because I wanted him to be calm – with my hands up. I begged for our lives. I told him, 'Take everything – my wallet, my money – but not my ticket. I want to go home. My son is waiting for me.' 'I looked him in the eyes and said, 'Please.' I wasn't trying to be brave. I just knew I needed to survive – for Nitza, and for my son.' Miraculously, the terrorists left without harming them. Though relieved, Jesalva felt a pang of guilt, unsure if her actions had put Hefetz in greater danger. 'When the Hamas left, I jumped to Nitza and cried for two-and-a-half hours. That was the first time I felt so weak – like a candle falling to the ground.' But Hefetz, whom Jesalva had protected throughout the attack, returned the favor. 'She hugged me. She calmed me. She's my hero,' Jesalva said. 'I came to take care of her, and she ended up taking care of me.' They remained trapped for over seven hours before the military arrived. Even then, Jesalva feared it might be another deception. Once she realized help had truly come, she and Hefetz began their escape – crawling through mud and dodging gunfire. 'We escaped under fire. I injured my foot catching Nitza so she wouldn't fall. We fell in the mud. It was like a roller coaster,' she recalled. Reflecting on the ordeal, Jesalva credits her survival to faith, resilience, and the unwavering sense of duty she felt as a caregiver. 'I kissed my son's photo and said to God, 'If it's my time, take me.' But somehow, I'm still here,' she said. 'I came here for my son, and for Nitza. I don't need to die – I need to live.' Just days after her husband had flown back to the Philippines to join their two children, terror struck for Monica Biboso, a caregiver who stayed laser-focused on helping her patient in a crisis. When explosions woke Biboso before 6:30 a.m. on October 7, she immediately sensed something was terribly wrong. The gunfire that followed wasn't distant – it was right outside her window in Kibbutz Kfar Aza. Still, her first instinct wasn't to flee. It was to care for Esther Rot, an 81-year-old woman with dementia whom she looked after. Biboso, 36, a caregiver from the Philippines, had been trained to prioritize her own survival in emergencies. 'They always told us, save yourself first,' she said. 'But I went to Esther.' She changed Esther's diaper, got her out of her pajamas, administered her medication – including sleeping pills – and blended food, and moved her into the mamad, the reinforced safe room. 'I thought to myself, it's not good. But I didn't think twice. I had to take care of her.' As gunfire and explosions intensified, Biboso did what she could to remain composed. 'All the time, I'm holding the door,' she said. 'They tried to open it again and again. I don't know how I was that strong, but they couldn't open it. I put all my power, all my strength.' When the Hamas terrorists couldn't break down the door, they deployed chemical smoke. 'It was a very bad smell – like burned rubber or plastic. I couldn't breathe,' she said. 'I told myself, 'It's better to die here than for them to catch me.'' Esther was barely conscious, unable to speak more than a word or two. As smoke filled the room, Biboso stayed focused on keeping her alive. She improvised a gas mask from her T-shirt, tying it around her face. She surrounded Esther with pillows and blankets, hoping to preserve a small pocket of breathable air. 'Her whole body was red,' she said. 'I even used her pants to fan away the smoke. It wasn't enough.' At one point, she thought Esther had stopped breathing. 'I shook her and said, 'Esther, Bucha, shake.' But she was so quiet. She didn't move.' Biboso, now physically weakened and soaked in sweat, began losing her grip on the door. 'I peed on myself from fear. Twice,' she recalled. 'I didn't even feel it. I thought it was my last breath already.' Without Internet, electricity, or hope, Biboso placed her phone under Esther's bed and waited. Friends and Esther's family had been trying to reach her, and when connection briefly returned, she got a call from a soldier who was a friend of one of Esther's daughters. He told her it might be safe to leave – that the IDF was close. 'I trusted him,' she said. Biboso opened the window and jumped outside, hiding under a maple tree beside the house. 'I asked him where I should run – right or left – but he didn't know. I decided to go right.' What she saw next would haunt her. 'Bodies lying on the floor. Burned cars. I couldn't go. I dropped my phone next to a dead body. I picked it up and ran back.' Too shaken to continue, she returned to the safe room. After more than seven hours of hiding, the IDF finally reached them. Esther had to be rushed to the hospital due to smoke inhalation. Biboso, though conscious, was severely dehydrated and emotionally devastated. 'While we were driving, I saw bodies, burned cars, everything,' she said. 'That's why I have nightmares all the time.' Despite everything, Biboso never left Esther's side. 'Everyone thought we were dead,' she said. 'I thought no one would save us – just God. So I prayed. I prayed a lot.' In the face of terror, Biboso held the line – both literally and emotionally – choosing courage over flight, and care over fear. 'I don't know how I did it,' she said. 'But I did. For Esther.' Filipino caregiver Paul Vincent Castelvi was killed on October 7 – his son was born weeks later. On the night of October 6, Castelvi, 42, was full of pride. He had just assembled a crib and stroller in anticipation of his baby boy's arrival. Smiling, he sent a selfie to his wife, Jovelle 'Bell' Santiago, back in the Philippines. 'He was so proud and happy that he already built it and it was ready for our son's arrival,' she recalled. The Kipnis family, for whom he'd worked as a caregiver and extended family member, had gifted him a ticket back to the Philippines for Christmas of that year, according to a Thai news outlet citing Paul's father, Lourdines. Little could anyone have known, the events of the following morning would drastically change those plans. The next morning, October 7, sirens blared across Israel as Hamas terrorists launched an unprecedented assault on Israeli communities near Gaza. Castelvi, a caregiver working in Kibbutz Be'eri, messaged Jovelle to say he was already in the bomb shelter with the couple he worked for, Eviatar and Lilach Kipnis. Eviatar was badly injured in a bike accident nearly a decade prior and had developed an autoimmune disease, leaving him in a wheelchair. He urged her to stay calm: 'Try and relax and not to worry – God will never leave us alone.' At 9:30 a.m., Castelvi sent what would be his final message. Hours passed with no reply to his wife's repeated calls and texts. 'I thought there was no signal in the bomb shelter,' she said. 'But time passed, and it was already afternoon – and he didn't reply.' Castelvi, along with Eviatar and Lilach, was murdered that morning in the terror attack. Castelvi was declared dead, and his body was recovered in the nearby Be'eri Forest. Eviatar was found dead on October 17, and Lilach was found dead on October 23. A month later, Jovelle gave birth to their son – a child Castelvi never got to meet – bearing the name of his father in his memory. Now a widow and single mother, Jovelle continues to speak about her husband with love and quiet strength. 'I'm still hoping this is just a dream, a nightmare – that I'm living alone now, without my husband,' she said. 'A widow, and left with our son – a son that Paul was never given a chance to meet.' She described Castelvi as a gentle, selfless man. 'Paul, my husband, was a very good man – a good provider for the family, a good son, and a good husband.' Castelvi was also the family's primary breadwinner, according to his parents. He sent much of his income back home to support his parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews financially. Though overwhelmed by grief, Jovelle is determined to raise their child in his father's image. 'For our son, little Paul, I will be strong and brave to raise him.' Jovelle also remembered Castelvi's employers, Eviatar and Lilach, who had embraced the young couple as family. 'They were great people,' she said. 'They were excited to meet our son, and that I would come to Be'eri for my maternity leave. They made us – both Paul and me – their own family.' Her tribute ended with a final farewell to her husband: 'To Paul, my love, you are always in my heart until we meet again. My greatest love, you.' Their names may never appear in history books or on national memorials, but the stories of Camille Jesalva, Monica Biboso, Paul Vincent Castelvi, and so many others are etched in the collective heart of a nation. These caregivers did more than fulfill a job description – they risked everything to uphold their promise to protect and serve the vulnerable. On October 7, when faced with terror, they responded with love. In a moment where many would have run, they stayed. They acted not as bystanders but as lifelines. Their bravery is a reminder that in the darkest of times, humanity is defined not by fear but by compassion, duty, and an unbreakable sense of purpose. ■
