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Thursday, June 4, 2009

Growth and Change


This issue includes some recent submissions:



To submit something for publication in "The Rio Grande Report" see the instructions following these bits.

Back to work


Well, I started a new job today. Sort of.

You see, in Utah, if you are considered an able bodied adult without dependents (ABAWD: read=single white male) in order to receive any assistance at all, you have to participate in some kind of program. That's not completely accurate either. In order to receive any cash assistance, you have to have a claim filed for disability. Otherwise, all you can receive is food stamps, and you have to either work for about $2/hr. through the Emergency Work Program (EWP: read=slave labor), plus spend so many hours at verified work search.

I did that previously, during a time when I was a little more mentally healthy, and a little more physically able to work. Except for the rate at which you are reimbursed for your hard labor (which most of the work is; employers really take advantage of these programs to get free labor.), I don't have a problem with that. I am no longer classified as
ABAWD. Still, I am again required to work for my assistance. And I do have a problem with the fact that although I have been battling Social Security for years now, due to physically and mentally disabling conditions, I am still expected to work for assistance that has been, is being, and will in future be paid for by my tax dollars!

I am 46 years old; I have worked since I was 16. I am not an idle person. To honestly feel that halfway through my life I am no longer able to pull my full load is upsetting to me. I am very active. Even when I am not getting paid, I am working.

There are many things I once enjoyed that are impossible for me now: bicycling, hiking, running, dancing, etc. I also can't load trucks, haul heavy cases of glasses, move in and setup tables, or even carry a tray without fear of dropping it. These are all things I've done quite a bit throughout my working life. It's very frustrating, because I try to perform at my previous levels, but simply can't. My doctor tells me to slow down, lower my expectations, or I could well make things worse from pushing myself too hard.

But I gotta live and I gotta eat. So, I'm working just 12 hours a week at a food co-op warehouse. I started today. It's a great organization, and I felt good about having an opportunity to help them out. I was told I'd be in the office, filing , manning the phones, entering orders into the computer.

I ended up painting. I laid down a coat of primer on a 900 sq. foot concrete floor today to prepare it for a coat of sealant, which I will apply tomorrow. If my doctor finds out, he'll skin me alive.

This is the type of activity many people in worse positions and conditions are expected to participate in, for very little reward. I receive $261 in cash assistance per month, and a little over $100 in food assistance. I am lucky. I am not elderly, or severely mentally and physically impaired. Many people forced into these kinds of programs are. Once involved, there is very little support or motivation to get out. If I had not recently been accepted into subsidized housing, I'd still be living on the streets and in shelters, still expected to fulfill these obligations to receive any help. I just completed a number of required workshops, for past assistance, living in exactly that environment.

During November and December of last year, I worked the Salvation Army Kettle Drive through a local temporary agency. It was eight hours a day in all weather. I was not permitted to sit, and had only one 30 minute lunch break. I left in agony every day. Was it worth it to earn enough money so I could actually have a little Xmas for the first time in years? I dunno. From January to April of this year, I worked for a tax preparation company, who advertised by having people dress in costume, hold their signs, and wave at passing motorists. Again, I was in constant pain, but these are the only kinds of jobs I can get anymore. My tough luck.

Just reinforcing my statement that I don't like sitting around on the dole. Never have. Yet my friends and acquaintances think I'm just looking for an easy ride. I've been told so on many occasions. And when I asked one buddy if having been homeless made me less of a person, he answered "yes." He said I was a bum because I never have any money.

I told him "The definition of a bum is anyone who sits on their ass and does nothing, no matter how much money they have."

We haven't spoken since.

Week after week, year after year, money was deducted from my check. This money, I thought, went to keep our country looking sharp and in good repair. So much for thinking. Some of it, I was led to believe, was meant to help me out if I ever needed it, should I, forbid, be unemployed, or, as I am now, unable to gainfully work enough to support myself.

I battle daily, push myself to exhaustion, often to the point of anger and frustration, to do what little is asked of me to receive what little I get in return. I believe I deserve better than to be looked down upon, taken advantage of, put off, refused, and ignored. It really hurts to suffer these indignities from people I believed to be friends. Even agencies of my own government, to which I have contributed for the better part of my life through my labors, make me jump through so many hoops, so many times, for just a handful of kibble, that I feel like a vaudeville poodle.

That's degrading, humiliating, and discouraging. The system is designed to frustrate you and hopefully make you give up. I have known people much worse off than I who have died waiting for what they need to get well, stay well, and continue having some quality of life. Sadly, they never got it.

I have been denied by Social Security five times now. After years of answering their questions and telling them very personal details about my life, I finally get to present my case to a judge soon.

I'm gonna get me a damn good lawyer. It's the only way you'll get anything, even if you're entitled to it, in this country. If I win my case, a good portion of my initial lump sum payment will go to this lawyer. In addition to paying back the State of Utah all the assistance I have received, even though I have been made to work for it! I think that's wrong. I think this whole circus of bureaucracy is just one of many things that's really wrong with our country.

MrW


Home again, home again, jiggety-jig: Palmer Court


Two days ago, I moved into a new apartment. Big deal, you're thinking. People do that every day. You're right of course. This time is special, though. You see, I've been homeless for the better part of the last 10 years, and now I'm off the streets and into an apartment of my own. Thanks to a new approach in nationwide ten-year-plans to end homelessness, the 'housing first' philosophy is getting 'chronically homeless' people out of shelters and into a place of their own.

The property I'm living in is owned and operated by The Road Home, which is the major homeless shelter here in SLC. The complex was a Holiday Inn that they remodeled. It's called Palmer Court, after former SLC mayor Palmer De Paulis, who instigated a 10 year plan to end homelessness here.

In conjunction with The Housing Authority of the County of Salt Lake, they've developed a way to expedite housing approval for those who have the most shelter nights. The program that got me in here is known as Shelter The Homeless. They not only put me in an apartment, but they provided me with the basic necessities anyone needs in a place where they're just starting out.

As I was checking the place out for the first time, each cupboard, closet and drawer revealed a pleasant surprise. The door to the entryway closet is a double, full-length mirror. When I hung up my coat on one of the twelve hangers in the closet, a broom, dustpan and mop fell out into the foyer. Behind a laundry basket on the floor was a bucket with some Mr. Clean, some clean rags, two sponges, two scrub brushes and some Handi-Wipes. I never thought I'd actually look forward to cleaning my apartment. I'm not that hot on the idea yet, but with the proper supplies available, I'm sure I can convince myself to sweep and mop a couple times a week. It's not easy getting back into some habits if you've been out of practice as long as I have.

The bath is a nice size, twice as large as the one in my last apartment. I've been provided with two sets of towels, unfortunately white, but alright. The bath tissue already on the holder has been thoughtfully started, the end of the roll folded into a little vee, like they do in the swank hotels. I found twelve more rolls in the middle drawer under the sink counter. I'm quite sure I've never had 12 rolls of toilet tissue in my apartment---ever. Shower curtain and liner, and a plush bath mat all match the neutral color of the tile. My shower is a hand-held. A toilet plunger and brush sit in a corner behind the commode. The only thing missing is a bidet.

In the kitchen, I was greeted by my favorite small appliance: a coffee maker; one of those little four-cup jobs. That was nice of them. I am a coffee addict. I haven't been to the store for coffee yet, as I discovered they provide that, fresh-brewed, beginning at 8:30 am in the clubhouse. In the first cupboard I explored was place-setting for four and a brand new 12-piece set of Rubbermaid. Two coffee cups, two tea cups, four highball glasses, and a plastic water pitcher rounded out the collection of dishes. It was super to find rolls of plastic wrap and tinfoil. In the "junk drawer" (every kitchen has one) were a pizza cutter, a vegetable peeler, and four Chip Clips. Cutlery consisted of four butter knives and four teaspoons. Oddly, there were no forks. I'm thinking a worker must have snagged them before I moved in. A small cutting board is a nice touch. In a cupboard underneath the coffee maker and what I've already dubbed my "junk drawer" I find a brand new set of non-stick cookware. Next to the kitchen sink was a bottle of dish washing liquid. On the cupboard directly beneath was a new kitchen towel and wash rag. Behind the faucet another brush for scrubbing vegetables or getting the sticky stuff out of the bottom of a glass. There is a brand new microwave on the opposite side of the sink. Not much counter space, but I don't plan on preparing any complicated gourmet meals here in the near future.

On a night stand next to the bed sits a brass lamp and a digital AM/FM alarm clock radio. My telephone service is free, and the handset provided. I am not much of a TV watcher, but free basic cable has been of interest for the last couple of days, and I've been able to watch the news in piece and quiet. The bed is made up nicely, with clean sheets, fleece blanket and a hotel type bedspread. It's only a twin, but it's a bed, not a bunk, and the mattress is very comfortable. On the other side of the nightstand is a cushy chair and matching ottoman. I moved the dining room table and two chairs from this spot to over by the closet in the entryway. There's space enough there, and I think that makes the living space look bigger.

It's but a small studio, but it's bigger than the last place I rented for $375/month. The floors are simulated wood grain Pergo. That will save me so much time scrubbing spill stains out of a carpet. So you've got the rundown on my new place. If I can talk my friend into letting me use her phone's camera, I'll upload a photo.

I spent the entire day in my new apartment yesterday. That's unusual for me. I'm never home, and once I get the feel of this place, I'll get back into my routine of running around. But it just felt good to be someplace without anyone waking me at 6:00am, then having to be out by 7:30, and stay out until at least 4:30pm. I slept in, as I had stayed up late watching Nat Geo. I took a shower alone, not competing for space, not feeling immodest or self-conscious. I cooked up too much hot cereal, and a scad of sizzlin' bacon. I enjoyed them with a glass of orange juice. I didn't have to wait in line for any of it, and it beat a stale doughnut and weak coffee.

I availed myself of the free coffee from the clubhouse, the only inconvenience being I had to walk over there in the cold. But I had my own cozy warm space to return to. I sipped my coffee. I cried while doing the dishes. I danced a little victory dance to the music on the radio. Finally all those nights on the streets, in shelters, homeless and hopeless, led to something good.

---Anonymous


Losing a friend and jumping thru hoops


So far this week has been four days of stress and disappointment.

I learned my mental health counselor has been laid off. I understand that charitable organizations may be feeling the crunch of our battered economy, but there are other issues involved here.

I sat my last session with Ethel (not her real name) yesterday. We went over some forms she needed to submit for me, but mostly we talked about her and what her plans were. She's angry and feeling insecure, as anyone who had just lost their job would be. But she's also feeling ineffective and devalued because of the way things were handled.

First off, when the clinic broke the news to her, they were willing for her to walk right out the door, asking if Ethel just wanted to make that her last day! She was appalled, and explained that she would at least like a chance to wrap up things with her over 200 clients, of which I am one. That's just like Ethel, caring and sensitive.

She also feels that if she were doing a better job, she would still be employed. She was the only full-time employee who was let go. Another employee, who just went full-time, and is a licensed psychiatric nurse practitioner, was retained. She makes less than many of the employees in her department. I assured her, she had made a big difference for me, and that I had left most sessions with her feeling better than when I came in.

The exact opposite is true regarding Fred (not his real name), the employee whom I spoke of formerly. In fact I stopped seeing him for my med evaluations because I always left sessions with him feeling misunderstood, frustrated, and more depressed. I'm not privy to the proper and varied methods of the psychiatric community, but I felt he had spoken to me inappropriately on a couple of occasions, telling me that my expectations of life were too high, and that I should just snap out of my funk and get a job, because, as he frequently reminded me, there were a lot of people out there worse off than me. I just never felt he got where I was coming from. He certainly lacked a sensibility that was evident in Ethel's approach to talk therapy

I will be sure to bring this all up at the next Consumer advocacy board meeting. I happen to be a member of that board.

Housing has been exasperating. Monday I was to get a disability certification, required for the unit I'm supposed to be moving into, and my Depression qualifies me. Well, that meeting was postponed to Tuesday. That done, I was informed I was to meet with the manager of the property on Wednesday. That was postponed to today, then postponed again, indefinitely. Supposedly the background check information has not come back.

So, I had planned to be in my new apartment by tomorrow. It's now looking like some time next week?

I should be used to this type of thing. There's always a wait for something when you're dealing with the government or charities. I've been waiting years for my social security. I'm finally up for a judicial review. I'm waiting on a legal services office to decide if they can represent me, or if I have to find a private lawyer. You can try every day for two weeks to get an appointment at the clinic. Usually I have to bypass channels and get some special dispensation from people who know me well there.

I know I'm not the only person in the city who has to deal with these setbacks, but sometimes I just feel like I'm the only person in the world. Period.

your editor


Died of a toothache in his heel..."


It is unbelievable to me that a country with the wealth of the USA cannot provide basic health care for its citizens. Thousands of people die yearly in the US because they either cannot afford health insurance, or their insurance company refuses to pay their claim. What is provided is inadequate.

I was able to solve my problem of yesterday (sort of), but it was because of who I know, not through regular channels. Then, one appointment was over a week away, not unusual, but it is crucial that I refill my meds before I run out, and I'd already been trying to get an appointment to do that for a week

To top it all off, my mental health counselor has been laid off due to the economy. The remaining counselor does not understand where I'm coming from, and I don't like to see him. So how do I establish a continuity of care, and become/stay well? It's exasperating. At least I'll get to see the counselor I've been seeing for two years now once more before I leave. Perhaps she'll have some suggestions

Now, here's another perfect example of what people without health insurance have to endure to receive treatment. I picked this up at my clinic today. If it wasn't for real, it would be ridiculously funny. I call it "The Tooth Fairy Lottery." No joke---this is for real!

"Guidelines for Seeking Services at
Salt Lake Donated Dental Services EFFECTIVE 3-23-09

Due to ongoing public safety concerns with patients waiting in line, Salt Lake Donated Dental Services SLDDS will no longer be taking patients on a first come, first serve basis. For individuals seeking care...the procedure below will be followed. As all of our dentists volunteer their time and services, please call ahead to confirm when a dentist will be volunteering. Thank you.

1. Individuals seeking services at...must come in the business day prior to the day you want to be treated during the clinic's business hours

2. When individuals seeking services come in, they will write their name and date of birth on a piece of paper to be drawn the next day. Patients will have the option to enter for the morning ot the afternoon, depending on when a dentist is volunteering and the type of services that will be provided

3. Individuals entering their names to request patient care will return the next day eithr at 8:45 AM or 1:30 Pm, depending on the time that they requested

4. At 8:45 AM and at 1:30 PM SLDDS will draw names of the individuals who will be treated that day. Priority will continue to be placed on those who are noticably swollen and children in pain. All individuals must be present at the time of the drawing with the appropriate verification of income in order to be seen by the dentist.

5. Individuals will be treated in the order that their name is drawn

6. SLDDS will continue to schedule appointments for specialized treatment such as: root canals, crowns, pediatric services, dentures and oral surgery. On these days, depending on the services being provided, a drawing may still be done. This information will be available on the answering machine

7. If someone is unable to come in the day before, they may send someone on their behalf to enter their name for them. the individual entering the name MUST KNOW the individual's first and last name and correct date of birt.

8. Entries will be checked at the end of the day for duplications. If someone is caught entering their name numerous times, their entry will be removed from the drawing and they will no longer be eligible to be treated at SLDDS"

My summary: The availability of dental treatment for the poor is now subject to a lottery drawing. If you're lucky, the treatment you need will be available. If you're too sick to get here or unable to have someone come for you, just suffer. These rules are contradictory, arbitrary, and subject to the whim of whomever at whatever time.

I realize these people are working hard with limited resources, but there must be something to be done. Is this going on in other cities?I wish I had a way to send this to our president. I think it's just tragic.


your editor


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