Bitterly disappointed
This review is for the Khiron residential clinic housed in Portacabin accommodation within the Clinic’s Oxfordshire grounds.
The negative reviews for the residential clinic are entirely accurate, even those going back years (see Google reviews). And I suspect not all the positive reviews are from genuine patients. I well understand why there has been at least one suicide in the residential clinic. Aside from the cursory “suicide watch” patrols, residents can isolate in their pods without triggering any concern or interest from the clinical staff, and no genuine support from the support workers, all of whom are foreign nationals, with questionable training, and often poor English-language skills and interpersonal skills. One support worker was unable to understand the simplest of requests. Residents are left to occupy themselves from Friday evening until Monday morning, with no-one asking the obvious question, namely “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”, with patients considered to be high-risk being denied permission to leave the grounds. It is little wonder the suicide mentioned in one review took place over a weekend. The claim of 24/7 support is disingenuous, if not deceitful, in that the support is purely passive, and patchy at best.
There is no chef, and no Khiron nutritionist, as one of their emails claimed. The response to someone incapable of looking after their own food needs that they have to figure it out for themselves.
There is no wi-fi in the residents’ pods, and very poor internal mobile-phone reception. At £1000 a day, you clean your Portacabin pod and the shared sink, toilet and shower, and wash your bedding.
If your trauma makes you appear unco-operative or anti-social, rather than seek to uncover the underlying causes, you are written off by the support workers and the therapists. The staff seem to want an easy life and to generate as much income as possible, to the extent of appearing to maximise the duration of the residency. Complaints, suggestions, and personal needs are met with condescension and thinly-veiled indifference. Communication between the clinical staff and the residents is pitifully poor, with the resident being forced to ask, through a support worker, about their treatment plan, schedule and anything else.
If you are very lucky, you might get 3 therapy sessions a week; should you need more, it would cost £250 a session, and the quality of some of the therapists is questionable, with, half of one session having been used to fill in a form that could easily have been completed another time.
I was deceived with false promises of non-existent compassion and support. Something very nefarious and deceitful is going on at the residential Khiron Clinic: vulnerable people are being preyed upon for financial gain, and lives and hopes are being broken and destroyed. I do not doubt that some people may benefit, but they will be the lucky few. The only things the residential clinic is fastidious about are the confiscation of phones and laptops, and the collection of monies. Indifference, disinterest, deception and cold-heartedness characterise the residential clinic.
Residency is a waiting game: waiting for the therapist to grasp the causes of one’s trauma, let alone to address them, waiting for some compassion and understanding, waiting for some genuine interest, waiting for some real and effective treatment and support.
An example: a resident became very distressed during a group session and left hurriedly. No attempt was made to follow or comfort that person by either of the 2 support workers in attendance or by the therapist leading the session, neither then nor afterwards.
Residents can easily discharge from the Clinic more damaged than when they arrived.
If, instead of concentrating on glossy marketing, Khiron Clinics directed its efforts towards becoming a genuine centre of excellence, the income would flow in, as word-of-mouth testimonials would underpin a deserved and solid reputation. Until that day arrives, buyer beware.
