Sophie Cat is sick?

I'm very worried about the Sophie Cat.  She is not herself today at all.  She's lethargic, far more so than usual, for starters.  And she's not meowing or purring like herself.  She didn't come out from under the couch when I got home and I freaked out cause I thought she was missing.  Turned out she was in the best hiding spot ever, and she wouldn't come out till I lifted her out, and even then, she didn't complain.  She's not eating right either, or drinking.  

Bestest bud and I called the vet, the advice was that I should try and force feed her and if she wouldn't take anything, then I should bring her in.  Well, after a great deal of effort I did manage to get her to eat a sizeable amount of wet food mixed with water, so she's had some food and water now and is on the couch.  she tried to crawl back under, but I wanted her where I could keep an eye on her.  So, she's in her bed covered with a blanket (which she NEVER tolerates) just lying there.  I'm watching her breath, and hoping she's just having an off day, and that my changing schedule along with our trip to the vet for a weigh in and the pet store yesterday traumatized her and she just needs to recover.  

Of course, I'm picked up an evening shift tonight, which I need, but it means I can't stay home with her.  Bestest bud will come and check on her, while I'm at work, but still.  Sigh.  I am quite worried about her!  

Sophie Cat and the Blizard

Somehow, the pictures uploaded backwards, but if you look from the bottom up, you can see the snow drift against my window get higher and higher and higher until Sophie Cat could no longer see over it! She wasn't pleased. 

nightmares...

I said earlier this week that I was feeling this need to purge myself of bad stories as my job was coming to an end.  Well, Saturday night was the last night of my fulltime job, and I spun in circles on the pavement outside.  I was exhausted, and had one of my epic 18 hour sleeps when I got home.  This was good, because it put me back on a sleep/wake schedule that matches up with the majority of people, but the dreams, the dreams were horrible. 

While I worked at the shelter, I rarely dreamed about it.  Every now and again I would ahve this recuring nightmare about the drunk tank, but although it was always the same, it didn't happen too often.  Last night I dreamed about the horrible things.  I dreamed that I was the one sleeping in a bus shelter, I dreamed that I was the one sleeping in a shelter, I dreamed that I was the one picking bed bugs off the beds at the other shelter.  It was awful.  It was like now that it was over, now that I wasn't really working there anymore I was finally free to dream about it.  Label me NOT impressed! 

I'm hoping tonight goes better.  I had a semi active yet VERY stressfree day, so I'm hoping sleeping goes well.  I'm not even going to write about anything sad or frustrating or anything in the hopes of having a good sleep.  I'm going to read fluff before I go to bed.  Hopefully, this was just a one time occurance! 

it shouldn't have to happen...but what to do?

One of the things that has puzzled me in my job is knowing that there are many homeless who don't sleep in shelters, and yet not knowing where they are sleeping.  As I've gotten to know more and more people I've been able to gain insight into this, and some of the stories simply blow me away.  While some of those who sleep in the "great outdoors" do so by choice, others have simply burnt all their bridges, this is a story about one who burnt his bridges time and time again, and also, a story of survival.  

Devon was one of those kids who never quite fit in.  Like so many others in the homeless community, he comes from a broken home and his addictions began at an early age.  Inside Devon there is A LOT of rage.  He's angry about his circumstances, and while he tends to be in control of his impulses while sober, when he drinks, he's a very scary individual.  Devon managed to make his way to a permanent restriction from our services, and had to spend a very cold winter living outside and trying to keep from dying.  

During the summer Devon would find spots by the river or hidden away in back alleys.  As long as he could stay off the radar, he was able to go about his life in relative piece.  When winter came however, it was too cold to sleep in the open.  Devon, like many others before him, and I'm sure many to come, moved into new accomadations...dumpsters. Packed full of garbage and rotting food, these metal conainters make a good place to curl up.  Unfortunately, the garbage bags can act like quick sand, dragging someone to the bottom where it's hard to get out in a hurry.  

One of the other tricks to staying, or at least feeling, warm in the winter is to drink large amounts of alcohol.  As the alcohol runs through the blood you feel warm making it easier to fall asleep and easier to bear the cold.  So, one night, as Devon slept drunkenly in a dumpster, he didn't wake up when the garbage truck came, instead, he woke up as he landed inside the garbage truck.  The details of how he survived are a bit of a mystery, but he did, and realized he needed to change his living arrangements.  

Devon moved from the hidden away dumpsters to a prominent heated bus shelter.  Here we covered him with blankets many a night on van patrol, waking him up to make sure he hadn't gone into an advanced state of hypothermia.  As Devon was brought to the drunk tank more and more often it became clear that the police, like us, felt sorry for him and wanted to protect him from freezing to death on the coldest nights of the year.  Despite the horrible things he had done in the past, staff advocated for him and Devon is now allowed to use our services, and to this point, he's shown a lot of respect and thanks.  

In talking to Devon, it's hard to imagine him as a horrible monster.  To me, he is kind and gentle.  I think perhaps the dumpster was a life changing experience for him.  While he hasn't stopped drinking, I haven't seen him in a drunken rage in ages, and he's connecting with the people around him in the community and with the staff at the shelter.  They say everyone has to hit a rock bottom before they change, I wonder if this will be his rock bottom, even though he hasn't decided to abstain.  Maybe he's already started making the changes needed for survival... 

laughable

When I interviewed for my job at the work placement team (yay for new job) I really did NOT think I had done well.  I knew I had gotten some of the questions bang on, some of them half on, and only completely made up one answer (oh how I wished I'd actually done some research).  There was one question though, a very serious questions that I grinned and started laughing at...I thought it was definitely worth sharing, although I do realize that it is kind of morbid, and it shows me just how calloused my job has made me.  

So, the interviewer asked me to desribe a time when I'd intervened with someone who was suicidal.  Now, she wanted a professional answer of course, so I could use anything to do with my sister and her multiple issues (which reminds me of another post I want to make) but in my head I was thinking that I've dealt with enough suicidal people to think of something!  And that's when I started laughing, see this is what came to mind.  

A while back, I wrote about a man who tried to strangle himself in the drunk tank.  In this case, he was extremely drunk and high on an unknown substance(s).  Talking, as it often does in cases of intoxication, did me no good and right infront of me he took he shirt, wrapped it around his neck and began to pull tighter, and tighter and tighter.  I ran for a coworker and by the time we got back he was unconcious.  We opened the door and untied the knot.  When he realized he wasn't dead, he went nuts and it took six police officers to carry him out and take him to the hospital to get checked.  

But that's just one story, if it was just that, maybe I wouldn't have laughed.  When the police who apprehended him came back the officer looked at me and said "weren't you here last week when we took someone out who tried to kill themselves" and I had to ask "which one/which time".  Because it happens SO often.  I mean, people are really creative.  I've dealt with more then one hanging, more the one strangulation, attempted wrist/throat slashing, and of course, the good old bang head into wall until you pass out.  One of those ones fought the cops for a good long time begging them to just let him kill himself.  This was all I could think about.  All the lives I've potential saved with "suicide intervention", and I laughed, because I knew this was not at all what they were asking for, but it was all I could think of.  

Finally, I smiled, and said something like "I spend a lot of time with intoxicated people and their situations can be kind of exreme, let me tell you about a time I dealt with someone sober..." I based my answer on a client experience, but in truth, I just walked through the steps of a suicide intervention and ended with a likely outcome.  One of the reason I want this job, is so that I can have those experiences.  Right now, if someone's suicidal, once their sober, we pawn them off on the crisis team, we don't have the time to deal with them, I'm too busy watching out for the one in the cell beside them ripping his mat into ropes or watchign 71 other people in the shelter making sure they don't kill each other after a percieved sock theft.  

Suicide is not a laughing matter... just one of the reasons I got a new job.  

another sad story

In a way, I feel like I'm trying to purge myself of some of the stories, some of the events, some of the experiences I've had at the shelter before I move on.  I feel like there's so much that's still unsaid, so many people, so many lives.  What's sticking in my mind right now seems to be the sad stories, hopefully as I distance myself a little, I'll be able to focus more on the happy ones, because there are so many of those too.  

One of the things we do at night is drive around in our van.  We hand out condoms, drive people home, give out blankets, look for people passed out places and help prevent people from freezing to death.  Naturally, I see a lot of pretty horrible things.  One of the things that can be hard is handing out condoms to the girls (and transgendered, and males) working the street.  Two girls struck me especially this week.  

As we pulled up to the two girls on the corner, it struck me just how young they looked.  It also struck me that they must be new, because they didn't have that burned out hollow look in their eyes, they still looked like girls.  When I offered them condoms, they were so enthusiastic, "do you have any dark ones" the first girl asked?  Those are my favourite.  And so, we went through the condom bag together.  The girls were so engaging, conversing with us as they poked around for their favourite colours.  When we left them, they were giggling about being able to trade around so they had just the right combination of colours.  

It just blew my mind.  Picking the right coloured condoms for their John's should NOT be what girls this age are thinking about.  Awkard first sexual experiences with boyfriends, maybe, but not this.  How long before it's not fun anymore.  How long before it catches up with them.  Or maybe it has, maybe this is their way of coping.  Either way, it's terribly sad.  And yet, I'll miss it.  I'm going to miss being out there, talking to them, becoming more familiar with them, driving them home, and taking them into the van when they're crying, abandoned in a parking lot with nothing.  That shouldn't have to be anyone's life.  

the night of 18 turnaways

As a write this, the Sophie cat is high on cat nip... I'm such a drug pusher, lol.  It's a lot easier to laugh at her antics though, and encourage her to "use" then it is to deal with the human consequences of drug and alochol abuse and addiction.  A perhaps little known fact is that there is that the number of people seeking shelter changes every day and there is a definite pattern to it all.  We turn away far, far more people on the weekend then we do during the week.  More homeless on the weekend?  Not exactly, a lot of it comes down to alcohol... 

It happens like this.  While there is a definitely a poorer area in my city, there are social housing developments spread out in various areas of the city.  All of these are accessible by bus...during the day, but at night, when the buses stop running, it's a lot harder to get there.  It seems, that more people drink on the weekends.  I'm sure this is true anywhere.  While the bars and hotels on the strip are full of business everyday, on the weekends they're just nuts.  And here's the thing, the bars close after the buses stop running.  SO when last call comes and everyone's leaving, suddenly there seem to be a whole lot of people who simply have no way to get home and many of them seem to wind up on the steps of the shelter.  

When we get someone come to the door who hasn't stayed with us in a long time or stays with us only sporadically we ask them some questions, for starters, "where do you live?"  Most people tend to say "nowhere", but then comes the question, well, where did you stay last night, last week, last month, because you didn't stay here.  Most of us hate doing this, but really, we're not a crash spot for people too drunk to remember to go home... we just can't be that.  We don't have the room or the funding... 

But it's hard.  I can easily turn away 15+ people, and generally they're far too intoxicated for the sober shelters.  This is one of the things which shows me just how real addiction is.  When you're so drunk that you just have no way to get home and you're down to the point of sleeping in the shelter or on the street.  When do you say to yourself "wow, I slept in a bus shelter last night, this is out of control".  People get so mad at us too, because we're supposed to be the shelter and what good are we if all we do is turn people away.  It's hard for people to see the big picture when they're caught up in addiction, there's a sense of intitlement and a need for immediate gratification.  

None of us are sure exactly what to do about this... as I've posted about many times, when does having the shelter just become enabling, when does it allow people to continue on destructive life style paths and live of the system, who gets to judge that anyway? I hate having to judge who is more and less deserving of shelter, we're supposed to do it by "level of vulnerability" but it's not like we have a formula.  It's true though, I'll squish in a regular who I know is completely falling part far sooner then I'll squish in a younger intoxicated male who doesn't stay with us... but maybe it should be the other way, we are an "emergency" shelter after all.

none of the answers are easy, not even the process is... 

random

hey quick note directed at one reader whose blog has locked me out... Torina, if you see this, I went to comment on your blog and it informed me I wasn't invited :(  I'd love to be invited, but if not, i understand why you would want to keep things more private.  it wouldn't even let me see your profile to see your email, but feel free to comment or send me an email at    awakeanddreamingone     at   gmail   dot   com   

dumped on the door step

The other night a taxi stopped in front of the shelter.  This isn't all that unusual as people are always calling to get picked up from the drunk tank.  In this case though, the taxi was dropping someone off... I guessed almost immediatly what had happened, and I was right on the mark. 

We have a relationship with the downtown hospitals.  They'll call us and we'll send someone out in the van to pick up clients and drive them home or to the shelter.  They understand, for the most part, that we fill up, and with the exception of the brand new staff, understand that the shelter does not have any reserved beds even if a patient has given us as their address.  We will work with the hospital to try and find that person a place to go, and if worst comes to worst, they'll let the client spend the rest of the night in their waiting room and we'll pick them up in the morning in time for coffee.  It's not an ideal arrangement, but it works for the most part.  

Unfortunately, because of the way the hospital is divided, our shelter actually falls in the catchment zone for one of the suburban hospitals...how, I don't know, but it does.  This means, that when an ambulance picks up one of our clients from the shelter or surronding area, they generally wind up almost on the edge of the city, outside of our driving boundaries, and if the buses have stopped running for the night, with no way to get back downtown.  This particular hospital has somewhat of a relationship with us, simply by default, but not in the same way as the others.  And so, when that cab pulled up, I just knew it was going to be a person dump.  

And so, an old lady wound up on my steps, in the winter, with no jacket, no way to get anywhere, and our shelter was full.  Even though I'd turned away numerous people that night, I let her in, because really, what was I to do, the cab had driven away, and she wasn't one of our regulars who I knew could be "street smart".  It turned out, she had a house, but didn't have keys and so had no way to get in.  The hospital had given her a cab voucher to get to us, and assumed that we'd take care of the situation for them...how nice of them.  

I was pissed off.  SO, I did something I rarely do, I called up the hospital, and politely, gave them a piece of my mind...I think may have scared the poor girl in the ER, not something I'm proud of.  See the thing is, I can totally empathize with them.  This woman is a frequent flier, and there was nothing medically wrong with her.  Brought in by ambulance, she presented without her jacket and keys.  The hospital would have given her cab fare home, but despite repeated calls to her land lord, she had no way to get inside, and they were unable to reach anyone else for her to stay with.  They then sent her to the homeless shelter, thinking we could give her a place and help her out in the morning.  She also contributed to the situation by lying and saying she was a regular of ours when in truth, she was brand new and had no idea what she was getting herself into.  

I explained to the hospital that we need them to PHONE first before sending us something.  That maybe together we could work out a plan.  I explained that we fill up quickly at night and so unless they call first there is no gaurantee that a person is going to get in.  I talked to two different people, and I think I got my point across.  What I really wanted to say though was "dumping people on the doorstep of a shelter is NOT okay".  I really felt for this woman even though her lifestyle is likely what caused this situation in the first place.  And despite being medically cleared, she really did not look healthy.  

The thing is, hospitals are not homeless shelters.  They aren't set up to house clients because they have no place else to go.  The emergency room is not set up, nor should it have to be, to deal with people like this woman who present over and over and over and over and over.  I'm not sure what the answer is though.  Obviously we need some sort of a different system.  Personally, I think perhaps a lock smith might be a good assest to our emergency system.  I can't tell you how many people we house when they get locked out for the night.  Makes me double check my spare set of house keys everytime.  

thank you

 Thank you guys all for your support.  It really does mean a lot to me.  I think I'm a bit calmed down now, I'm trying to see the big picture, to look at this from the outside instead of from my heart.  Watching Sophie cat drink water with her paw (dip and lick, dip and lick) always brings a smile to my face, as did watching her decide she didn't actually want to eat my strawberries!  

I'm going to get through this.  It's going to be fine.  To give it slightly more context, the accusations against me, basically have to do with words said to clients in a volatile situation and whether they were unprofessional, offensive, inappropriate etc... They have these words tape recorded, or at least some of them.  Management has thus far only heard their side of the story.  I'm not saying a word without my union rep (and to think, I used to be annoyed by the union).  For them to send all accused home from work last night would have been next to impossible.  Half the staff would have been gone and the shelter would have had to close.  I somehow doubt that would have gone over well!  

I keep reminding myself that the absolute worst thing that can happen is that they fire me.  It's okay if they fire me.  I have another job.  I haven't signed my letter of hire yet, but from what I understand from my union rep it would be absolutely not okay for the shelter to say anything to my new job.  I know I didn't do anything nearly unethical enough to lose the R off my RSW.  I need to trust that in myself and stop second guessing myself.  I have already learned from what has happened, and had learned from it before this whole thing surfaced.  Likely, what will happen is that I will get a verbal reprimand and a letter in my file, if I'm found "guilty" of whatever it is I'm accused of, which I'm not sure of.  All I've been told is that I'm "under investigation" and I've been told to "behave professionally".  

I will keep you guys updated.  It'll be interspersed with other posts that I've already got written and set to publish, so if you're wondering how it's bouncing back and forths from stories about death and prositution (thankfully not in the same story) to updates about my investigation, my sanity and my new job, that's why.  

you guys rock.  as do my friends.  I sobbed to bestest bud on the way home from choir (note to self, driving and crying isn't the best idea), and best friend and I have plans to talk.  I even mentioned it to my pastor and well, a lot of my church friends.  I was pretty upset and mad when I got to church (oh how I did not want to be there...it's good for me though, all I would have done at home is cry).  So, somehow or another I'll be okay.  I seem to be falling apart at the seams a bit, but I'll find the right needle and thread so that God and I can begin piecing me back together.