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.  

it's almost spring

I can't believe I haven't posted in a week.  Things are not going well in dreamerville, and writing just seems like too much, that and I just haven't seemed to find anything I really want to write about, I know I'll feel better if I write, and yet I can't.  I once said I'd never make this blog "emo" and depressing like, but it's a blog about social work, and social work has it's moments.  While I don't have the stats right at hand, I know that social work is an extremely challenging profession in terms of burnout and emotional stress.  Beyond that, many people are drawn to the helping professions because of difficult experiences in their own lives which of course come along for the ride.  

My strep throat seems to be making a resurgance despite the antibiotics, I'm worried that once they're gone in three days it will come back with a vengance, requiring another doctor trip and another round of antibiotics, stronger ones, which will likely make me sick.  On top of the strep, I got a super bad cold, or perhaps a flu.  The kind where you just cry because your sinus and your eyes and your everything is running.  So I sat in the car place waiting for my oil change and car check up crying.  I'm sure I looked absolutely stunning.  I called in sick again that night.  

My roof is leaking.  Nothing like coming home from work to discover your bed is wet because you didn't move the furniture because the roof wasn't leaking when you left.  Fortunately the roofer called proactively, he's determined to fix it for me, but still... wet bed, not fun.  So, I decided to try and share my somewhat broken futon with the Sophie cat.  Her "day bed" is on one end, in the sunshine, so I put my head at the other end... and wound up getting my foot bit when I invaded her space... 

Work has been challenging.  I saved another guy last night...maybe.  Same coworker as before and I busted into this guys cell in the drunk tank after he made his shirt into a rope, knotted it, and tightened it till he passed out.  After he got some more air he became super violent, like beyond violent and I had to BEG my coworker to close the door, I don't know what he was trying to do.  Anyway, it took six police officers to wrestle him into cuffs and shackles, there were only four, and they were losing till two more showed up on the scene.  After he got checked at the hospital they brought him back, more sober, he said he just wanted out and he was "pretty hammered".  Just watch him not remember this by morning.  

I need a new job.  It's scary though.  My job right now is a permanent position.  Most openings, the few there are, are for term positions.  I know that's how you start, but the idea of so little  permancy scares me.  And, I only just got benifits March 1st.  Not as big a deal in Canada, but still...I like clean teeth.  The things is though, I don't want to work in the drunk tank anymore.  I'm tired of locking people up.  Really sick of it.  I'm tired of being threatened constantly and the constant berating and abuse.  I like my shelter clients, I like them a lot.  If I could just work with them, I'd be happier, but you rotate areas at work, and so I can't just work shelter and detox.  I also really want a social work position.  I want to use more of my skills on a regular basis.  Right now a lot of my conversations go like this "I can't let you out, go to sleep".  That, and, "I need your cell, you have to get out now, it's busy tonight... GET UP".  

I'm having nightmares, especially the past couple days.  Just really bad ones.  I have a recurring one about the drunk tank, but I've had that for ages.  Now I'm just having so many.  Yesterday's was so bad I wound up just getting up, and then I went to work tired.  

I suppose I'm a bit lonely too.  But that's mostly my own doing, and definitely at least partly to do with working nights.  Best friend is have a country a way, bestest bud is in third year university and it's march, and she has a boyfriend.  There are people around, I just never seem to make the effort.  I'll have to start.  Mostly, my life seems to consist of feeling tired, dragging myself up or staying up at weird times to go to church or church meetings and working... oh, and my daily cup of coffee... i love it.  That's how I knew I was really sick, when I didn't go out and get my coffee.  I think working a day job would be good for me.  Maybe I just need to see more sunshine!  I need to go to yoga too, the exercise and breathing and sweating and high heartrate really, really help.  I've been too sick though, last time I had strep I went back to yoga a bit too soon and thought I was going to pass out right in the middle of class.  

So onward I go.  There's one job I might just apply for I found in the classifieds today, and I do have an interview on Tuesday.  I'd really love to find a job before the enforcer comes back from holidays at the end of the month.  I had a horrible nightmare about him a few nights ago.  

posts about my clients will follow... as soon as I can work up the energy... 

I felt his pulse stop...

Most of the people reading this have probably taken CPR at some point in their lives.  Most employers require it these days and even if they don’t, many people take it for personal interest.  Most of the people reading this have never had to perform CPR... I used to count myself in that number. 

 

It always sucks to be short staffed on a Friday, and when it came to me to be shift manager on Friday the 13^th I had this nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.  Of course, I didn’t want to be so convinced of this that it would up becoming a self fulfilling prophesy, but still, there was something that told me the night just wasn’t go off as planned... and it didn’t, but even though we were busy, things stayed calm until around six in the morning when I overheard the phrase “I’m calling 911”.  This is never a good sign as we try and avoid calling it as much as we possibly can.  So I went down to the drunk tank...

In the drunk tank, one of the staff had a discovered a c/n not breathing when they went to check on them (this being why we check on people every 15 minutes).  The staff member had already begun CPR and the client had started breathing again... and stopped again, twice.  So I joined in.  2 person CPR is SO much easier then 1 person CPR and my co-worker was just a little panicked.  And when I say a little, I mean he was definitely in need of a deep breath.  So I got him to do the breathing, because you have to take slow deep breaths. 

 

After the third or fourth time we revived him I felt his pulse with my fingers, to time it, and to reassure myself that it was there...and it was, until it stopped.  My co-worker started doing chest compressions and I could feel those, each one created a pulse of its own (which I find fascinating, even though I know that’s what it’s supposed to do).  I lost count, but my co-worker says we revived the man seven times.  By the time the paramedics finally got there he was sitting up, conscious, holding my hands as we breathed, in and out, together. 

 

Then the paramedics arrived.  And the guy FREAKED out.  It took six people to hold him down while they gave him some haldol.  I have NO idea what he was on, or how a person can go from no heart beat to seemingly psychotic within such a short amount of time, but he did.  I’ve never seen anything like it, and I hopefully never will again.  

self injury and personal bias

Self evaluation and reflection is a good thing.  It helps us become better at our jobs and it helps us become better people.  When I was in school we had to spend copious amounts of time examining our attitudes and our biases.  It's not that I've forgotten about that, but I had an experience recently that made me remember to be cautious and showed me an area I'm bias about.  

When most of us think about self injury/self harm we probably think about similar things as portrayed in the picture above (or maybe not, I know I do at least).  A young white female struggling with depression/body image stuff.  That's what most of the books are about, the population the studies have been done on etc... I've gotten used to seeing the evidence of self injury on females from all walks of life, but even though they say at least 10% of people who self injure are male, and that it's probably higher, I tend to miss it when it comes to men.  

I had a person come into the drunk tank who defied all my stereo types.  I was shift manager (yet again, sigh) and so my coworker doing the intake got me to come down and decide if we would accept this particular person or if we would insist the police take him to the hospital.  The only acute injury seemed to be a slightly bleeding nose, but, the shirtless youth, was covered in cuts and scrapes and scars.  My first though was that he was a gang member, who had seen a little too much action lately.  But as I talked to the police, and to him, it became evident that the cuts and scars were self inflicted.  And it really changed my perspective.  

I suddenly saw this man, younger then myself, as a victim instead of an offender.  Here he was, broken, and in pain, getting thrown into the drunk tank once again.  Maybe he is in a gang, maybe he does get in fights, but there's more going on there.  It gave me cause to think about WHY.  I got my coworker to write up a crisis referral suggestion for him to, while he may not use it, at least it's something...  

old and drunk

Whenever pension cheques come out the drunk tank fills up with those over sixty five, many of whom are definitely elderly.  Some of them are still quite spry, but others are just WAY to old to be sleeping in a cold cell on an inch thick mat.  And yet, every pension day, there they are, drunk as anything and creating a fuss or making a "nusiance" of themselves somewhere.  Often it's as simple as they can't get themselves home because they're too drunk to walk.  I have one person who forgets to use her walker when she's drinking and forget's she can't walk well without it.  She holds it in one hand and carries it.  

And then, then there's mr. nicholas.  Somehow, he manages to get drunk almost every day.  He hobbles in with his walker, usually after passing out somewhere, landing at the hospital and getting picked up by the police.  Everyone knows mr. nicholas, he's a fixture.  And sadly, he has no memory left.  He often does not remember that he has an apartment in a nice area or even where that area might be.  What he remembers, is how to drink, and drink he does.  I'm not sure there's a record for drunk tank admissions, but I think he'd probably get it.  

What do you do with a person like that?  He spent some time in psych after being declared incompetant, but you can't hold him forever.  Once he was "stabalized" he was found really nice housing and set free.  He returned right back to where he was, drinking on the strip.  If he was placed in a nursing home I suppose he'd have to be locked in the way my grandmother is.  Only in her case, she thinks the nursing home is a nice hotel and that she still lives at home.  

The thing is, the guy is happy.  This is his life, and this is what he likes to do.  The problem is, it's a drain on the system.  He drinks, he passes out, someone calls an ambulance, then there's the hospital work up, then the police car ride and then the drunk tank fee.  And once he's released, the cycle starts all over again.  

and again

and again

and again

digging deeper - treating people as people

I'm not entirely sure why, but this photo evokes really powerful emotions in me. Tonight was my night off, and I spent some time working on a project for church. I was looking for photos which so a variety of different people from a variety of different walks of life and cultures. Seeing all the people reminded me that one of my intentions for the year was to see people as people and that got me thinking about my job.

It's all fine and well for me to say I want to remember that people are people, but I realized, when thinking about things, is that part of the way I cope with my job is to forget that, it makes things easier. Maybe that's good though, and maybe that's bad.

For example, when I have someone screaming and calling me unspeakable things (or at least things I won't publish here) it is much easier to think of them as "that intoxicated person" rather then give them a name. In fact, I generally refer to them as their cell number (interestingly enough though, i tend not to do that with clients I know well). Then there's example two, again, working the drunk tank. A girl sobbing, crying, begging me to help her, telling me of her horrible life, about the abusive relationship which wound her up here. So much easier to give quick reassurances and move on. Experience and practical reasoning has taught me that there's no use arguing or doing interventions with intoxicated people. In these situations, it's fairly easy to justify, whether that's good or not, I'm not sure.

Then though are the turn aways. It's really, really hard, to look someone in the eye, call them by name, and tell them they can't come inside the warm shelter when it's -30 outside. Exposed skin can freeze in less then 10 minutes, and what do I say? "I'm sorry sir, we're full, you have to get here early, we're usually full by 9PM". "I'm sorry, all the shelter beds in the city are full, you'll have to figure this out for yourself". Those, and other things, but generally those. Nothing can prepare you for that, and it's so much easier for them to remain Jane and John Doe then to dig deeper and ask their names, and how they wound up at your door that night. For some, especially the 2:45 crowd, it's simply that the bars don't close till 2:30, but for others, there are most deeper issues and we're their last hope.

So what I need to work on finding, as I've said many times before, is balance. A little pain keeps us moving, it's what keeps us fighting for change. Making things too black and white, and blocking out the suffering of people hardens us, and getting harden to far makes us, well, hard. I don't want to be like that. I also don't want to be the girl who runs to the bathroom and cries after each turn away (for the record, we don't have one, I just don't want to become one).

something to ponder as I fall asleep, what is it that dehumanizes people, is it our actions or our attidudes, must it be one, the other, or both?

it's almost over

Well, Christmas is over now, and my five in a row work week is almost over. That may sound pretty normal to most people, but because of the nature of my job, we almost never work more then four in a row. I can't remember the last time I worked a five actually. And of course it's just been a little crazy, being Christmas and all.

I'm tired, just plain tired, and can't wait to go to sleep. After this, I get five days off, and I'm quite excited. The drunk tank has been hoping, and due to short staff I've had to be shift manager twice (well, one is tonight, so it hasn't happened yet). Apparently, I have seniority, what that gives me is a whole ton of responsibility and almost no extra money. Oh well, there are good people working tonight.

The drunk tank has been filling up every single night as people drink their way through the holiday season. Detox is surprisingly full, I had predicted it would empty out during the holidays, but it hasn't seemed to. The shelter's been full every night too, but i certainly wouldn't call that unexpected. It sucks having to turn people away on Christmas though.

I have so many stories and have had NO time to write, with church and family stuff I've been super busy for the past two weeks. They're coming though! Really!

overwhelmed - or something

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed these past few days. The enormity of the problems I see on a daily basis can be kind of consuming. For the most part, I'm quite good at maintaining a healthy distance, putting things in perspective and staying positive. This past week however there have been a few situations which have been hard and the mind numbing cold just doesn't help anything.

This week for the first time I found someone sleeping under a heating vent, by choice, not because they were passed out drunk. For some reason, this really touched me. When I asked them why they made that choice, they simply said they had no place to stay. Another person, in a doorway, refused even our offers of a blanket, let alone a warm place to stay. A man what I believe was an actual heart attack. I have a lot of people with chest pains, most of the time they beg for the ambulance. This man, clutching at his chest, gasping for breath, wanted no help at all (note, we called and he was taken to hospital). An unrousable man later told us he wished we had just let him die. And of course, the girls working the streets just keep getting younger and younger.

I am sick of fighting with the other shelters. The politics of homelessness are stupid and frustrating. I'm sick of watching my mouth and having my actions be dictated by our directive not to do anything to make the clients go to the media. Why, because they are, they're making good on their threats, and we can't afford the negative publicity. I'm sick of not being able to say what's really happening because we're not allowed to say negative things about the other shelters (although I do understand this). I'm sick of not having enough space for freezing people.

Working in the drunk tank is also difficult. Until you've done something like that, it's hard to explain. It's hard to explain the death threats, the law suit threats, and the constant insults. It's also hard to explain how it can break your heart to have to lock someone up and forceably hold them. On the flip side, it's also hard to explain what it's like to have to kick people out of a safe warm place because there are drunker people coming in.

Of course, my heart is not literally breaking, and for the most part I am able to put aside all this stuff and effectively do my job. I'm able to go about my everyday life and not think about this stuff. These past couple days though, it's just seemed a little much. Someone at church said I looked sad, and i just didn't know how to explain. There's just so much, so much I see, and sometimes it just gets to you, especially as my clients start to worry about Christmas. I'll go to work tonight, and I'll do my job with a smile, just like always. But inside, inside I'm a little sad tonight. Sad because a job like mine has to exist, and sad because its just seems like we're not doing enough. Sad because people are hurting, and there's only so much we can do to change that.

maybe I just need a good cry...

when bennie won't bathe

I’m getting sick of smelly people, and especially sick of the smell of urine soaked people after they’ve been drinking mouthwash (but that’s just a personal thing). In the spirit of change however, I’ve decided that instead of just whining about it, I need to do something about it. Whether or not my approach has been empowering however is up for debate.

In example one is the story of Adam who we met last entry. We gave him a wash cloth to sponge off and some clean clothes. While his clothes were no longer smelly, he really hadn’t got all that clean.

The next example is Ben. Ben also left the drunk tank covered in urine. In his case, I decided to point this out to him. We have a good relationship, so a gentle, "Ben, you're starting to smell, if I find you some clean clothes will you have a shower"? seemed like a good approach. And it was... in some ways. Ben and I spent time talking about how his life had gone down hill with is recent episodes of binge drinking and how he used to be so well dressed all the time. I consulted with him about the clothes I was picking and even found him a nice new winter jacket. Ben promised me that when he came inside for coffee he would collect his stuff and have a shower. The problem is, Ben never followed through, and he's out their somewhere, likely in the same dirty clothes.

And then, there's Chris. Chris is my one "success" story. With Chris, I was simply very directive. We again have a good relationship built and it's okay for me to do this. Besides that, I would listen if the client said absolutely not. Basically, when I opened his drunk tank cell I had already gathered all the shower stuff needed and simply walked him upstairs and into the shower. "Chris, it's time for a shower, I've got some clean clothes for you, just follow me upstairs and I'll open it for you". Once at the shower, I gave instructions to wash hair and body, brush teeth and comb hair, as well as to throw out the old clothes as they smelled. Chris, had a shower (Chris also invited me to come have a shower with him).

See the thing is though, I'm not usually so directive, but sometimes it gets to a point... Further, there's the fact that enforcer was totally on board with my plan which makes me wonder, just cause we don't normally agree... I guess it's not something I would do often, but I think almost all of us at work have done it. Sometimes people just really need a bath... or do they?

false alarm

I think I've written about this before, but it happened once again. When people come into IPDA, they're supposed to be searched. This may seem rather trivial, but a bad search can lead to bad consequences, hangings, cutting, or fire. Yes, that's right, fire. See apparently, it's amusing to light one's toilet paper on fire when stuck in a small from for an unknown number of hours. Personally I can't imagine why one would do that. (Okay, so I totally can, I mean, I'd be going CRAZY, or using the time to catch up on some sleep, on the other hand though, starting something on fire when you have no access to water or say, a way OUT of the room, well, that doesn't show much common sense, of course that's why they're being held though...never piss off the cops).

So, rant aside, we have very sensitve smoke detectors. When people do things like light their toilet paper on fire they pretty much instantly go off. And being a shelter full of vulnerable people, this of course triggers a pretty giant fire alarm down at the main fire station as well as an alarm with the police. It's well, a big deal. Besides that, we have special systems in place to release all the detainees in the drunk tank, unless we put a certain key in a certain whole within 90 seconds, which means we only have 90 seconds to determine if it's a false alarm. Fortunately, we have a panel which tells us exactly where said alarm is coming from, but still. This time, and we're still not sure why, the doors all opened anyway. And one of our IPDA's escaped... I manged to run around and lock everyone else in though!

Then of course, we still have to deal with the fact a fire alarm bell is ringing throughout the entire rest of the building...loudly. So then you have to find a different key, in a different place, and open a different panel and press a button, to shut that thing up. And then you wait, and then the fire fighters come and have to inspect the scene for a fire. Then the wonderful fire fighters reset your fire alarm (in both places) and life carries on.

Except, in a shelter, with 70+ people sleeping, life doesn't just carry on. Because now instead of having 70 sleeping people you have at least 40 awake people who have been woken up rather harshly. And they want food, and drinks, and companionship and they get rowdy. And when asked to calm down, they seem to remind you that THEY WERE SLEEPING, and somehow the entire situation becomes your fault.

Yay. because really, it's always your fault.

or not.

gong show

Sometimes, the only way I can get through my shifts is to have a mantra that goes like this "i love my job, i love my job, i love my job". And the truth is, I really do, it just has it's moments... take one of the days this weekend for example.

I have this girl coming out of the drunk tank who wants to talk to the mobile crisis team. When I phone, they don't want to talk to her, they don't have "time" (uhh, okay?), they were super rude to me. I wanted her to phone in the first place, but she chickened out, so I said I would make an introduction and hand her the phone. They kept me on the line not wanting to talk to her, talk about not empowering! Anyway, they finally talk to her, and they wind up arguing, and then she hands me back the phone. Apparently she has "attitude". Bah. I gave her so different resources, and bus fare.

While this is going on, ccf discovers a girl has hung herself in her drunk tank cell. Freakyness. I have never seen a hanging, and frankly, I never want to again. We're still not sure exactly how she got the string, but in anycase, we cut her down and saved her and she was consious before the paramedics got there. Just another day in the life of the drunk tank, because back I am with girl calling crisis services, and opening the doors for firefighters, paramedics, medical supervisors, police etc... answering questions for the police, doing intakes and discharges, and oh, somehow, ccf and the guy with the knife decided I should do all the documentation cause I have the "nicest penmanship" (I do, but still...).

Fast forward a couple hours, two of my coworkers are sick and throwing up, but can't go home because we're so short staffed and they feel "guilty". Ccf is in one of his silent moods and not communicating well with others; me included. We discharge someone from the drunk tank who is on our permanent barred list (or to be pc, his "service has been suspended"). He almost takes a swing at my supervisor, and we have to seal IPDA to protect me while I discharge him. It takes me 20 minutes. Why? Because he decides I'm a sweatheart and starts to tell me about his deep emotional pain.

Another couple hours. I walk past doing a life check and find a guy talking on a cell phone inside an IPDA cell. Uhhhh they're supposed to be searched! And what's he saying? "Yes, I do need an ambulance, yes, and ambulance". I yell for my supervisor, who throws open his door and starts yelling, "don't send one, he's in the drunk tank and fine!" She yells at him to give up the phone, and eventually he does. He throws it accross the floor and yells, get this, "you might not want to touch that, it's been up my ass". sigh. ass phone. So then, i have to call and cancel his ambulance and get the police to come re-search him. Oh, and convince the ambulance people that, you know, he's FINE!

and that's one day...

wait till I tell you all about last night when everyone but me called in sick!

Halloween in the tank

Friday was one of those nights on which I had to remind myself numerous times why I like my job. Friday night was not a day on which my job was likable. Why? Well, it was Friday, it was Halloween, and month end welfare checks had just come out. Oh, and did I mention we were short staffed?

During the week, the drunk tank is populated mostly by your average street person or low income minority inner city dweller. These people may have been drinking in public, got in a fight with a family member, or been passed out on a bus bench. Maybe they were playing chicken with the cars on Main Street, who knows. The point is, the majority of them have been there before (and will be there again sometime). They know the routine, they know what they have to do, they come in, they go to sleep, they leave when we ask them to. The weekends however, are different.

Weekends at the drunk tank are filled with middle and upper class suburban white young people who think they are entitled to better treatment then "those people". A large majority of the people who come in on the weekends are first timers, maaaybe second timers, but usually once is enough for people. These are the annoying people. The people who make demands, the people who threaten to sue, the girls who cry for hours, the men who kick their door. Now, this is not to say that your average homeless person doesn't also kick their door sometimes, but generally, they're a quieter crew.

Halloween, was a mixture of both sets. And they really didn't get along all that well. Halloween had us seeing costumed white people coming from the halloween bashes at night clubs as well as dirty, urine soaked street people picked up off the curb. Halloween had some of the most annoying people I have ever dealt with (although definitely not the most annoying). Upon release, one man wrote down every single tiny detail off his form, and then told us we'd be hearing from his lawyer. He can't sue us, but somehow his calm attitude unnerved me a lot more then the usual screaming. Of course, the one who screeeeamed at us about suing us, was also annoying, so really, you can't win.

And so, I shall end this ramble as my eyes begin to close. Good night world, the dreamer's off to sleep.

sad story

We have some frequent fliers in the drunk tank. They're people who wind up there time and time again. Some of them are shelter goers, street people, people who've gone through detox and treatment many, many times, and some of them aren't. It's a lot harder to get to know the ones who aren't, because the only contact I have is when they're discharging. I heard something a few nights ago though which really touched me.

There was a frequent flier in one cell and beside her a girl who I'm sure will quickly become a regular if things don't change. The two got to talking, which at least kept them from harassing me each time I walked by. As I listened to their conversation it gave me incite into some of the things they're dealing with and facing.

The first woman began to speak of her daughter, and how proud she was of her. Her daughter was eight she said, and most importantly to her, she had never laid a hand on her. To her this was the most important sign of a good mother, no physical abuse. She then began to reveal her own history of abuse and how much she had struggled as a child. The girl beside her in turn began to reveal her own history of abuse at the hands of her parents.

While it doesn't excuse the fact that these two women were drunk, disorderly, and a potential danger to themselves and others, it gave me incite into why it is that they were drinking so much on a regular basis. Fascinating. I have in mind to do a post about the different kinds of people who see in the drunk tank and then further analysis each sub group, but not today... today, i need to sleep!

Drunk Tank Ethics

Mr. nice guy and the enforcer got in an argument a few nights ago. It's a common discussion, but things got pretty heated with both of them saying that management was on their "side". I've never heard mr. nice guy be so outspoken about something, but I was very glad he was. Here is the basic scenario.

When someone comes into the drunk tank we hold them between 4 and 24 hours, it's at our discretion of when they are safe for release into the community again. Between midnight and six in the morning, clients have to sign an extra form saying they are aware of the risk of leaving in the middle of the night in a bad part of town, and that they want to go anyway. Here's where things get complicated. What happens when someone doesn't want to go? What if we know that they have absolutely no place to go, the shelter's full, and the weather is horrible. What if IPDA is full, and we have police outside waiting. What do we do with these people?

This particular night, the shelter was full, but the drunk tank wasn't. There were people who'd been there quite a while, but they were people who had no place to go, and it was POURING rain. The enforcer tried to make mr. nice guy kick them out, and he wouldn't. He said, "they don't want to go, they have no place to go". The enforcer said, they've been here 8 hours, they're sober, they get a phone call, and the buses are still running. Mr. nice guy said, these people have no money, no one to phone, no where to go. The enforcer said, that's their problem. What happens if we fill up and have a back log.

See, the drunk tank is funded by the city, not our organization. So, us shelter sober people, just cause we know they have no place to go is kind of, well, cheating, especially if the police have someone possibly dangerous or extremely disruptive that they need to bring in. The enforcer is worried that we will get a back log of 5 or more cars, and that the police supervisor will be calling and complaining, and since he's in charge, the buck stops with him. He says he's discussed this with management.

Mr. nice guy says that we cannot release people who don't want to go, and then get them to sign a form that says they do. It's unethical. And, how do we release people to, well, nothing. The thing is, he's also working with situational ethics here, because if we were full, he would do the releases. But because we weren't, he was arguing his point. However, we can also argue, that if we were full in the drunk tank we would try to squish people into the shelter wherever we could find room. The enforcer is very black and white. He doesn't do situational ethics, at all, it's the principle of the situation. Mr nice guy has plenty of shades of grey and is able to adapt his practice to the situation, but should he?

I have to admit, I'm strongly on mr. nice guy's side, but of course, I'm biased in that I'm having issues with the enforcer. However, I've always been of the same position as mr. nice guy. It's an interesting issue, one that I hope management will continue to discuss.

dear intoxicated person

Dear Intoxicated Person,

It has come to my attention that there are some issues we need to address. You've been getting upset a lot lately, and frankly, it's starting to get to me. Here are some basic ground rules to follow during your stay in the intoxicated persons detention area while being detained under the intoxicated persons detention act.

1. You do not have the right to a phone call. You will get one, I promise you, when you are released. Your lawyer does not want to hear from you at 4AM drunk, 75 year old mother doesn't want you to wake her up, and if your wife's the phone who phoned the police, well, she probably doesn't want to hear from you either.

2. We do not give out blankets. Blankets obstruct our view, and our job is to keep you safe, we have to be able to tell if you're breathing. No matter what you tell me, I will not give you a blanket.

3. I do rounds every fifteen minutes, this is when I will talk to you. No matter how many times you kick your door I will not come any sooner. Now, If you were to yell, "I'm having chest pains" or "I can't breath", that would be a different story, then, I would come very quickly, and help you.

4. On that note, if you tell me you're having chest pains, I WILL call and ambulance, and they WILL take you to the hospital, who has the option of sending you back if you're fine. Chest pains are not a get out of a jail free card although you will get that blanket you wanted...until you get back.

5. I am not opening your door to give you water, particularly if you're angry, violent, harassing and call me a bitch (or one of those million other things I've been called). That just doesn't work for me. If I have time, you're polite, and you've been there awhile, then I will consider opening that door.

6. If the police didn't get you a mat, it was for a reason. Chances are you were violent, or you have a history of shredding our mats. Or, maybe you were just the unlucky 18th, 19th or 20th person, and have to pay for the other people who've shredded our mat's mistakes. Whatever the reason, I'm still not opening the door to give you a mat no matter how hard you kick.

7. By law, I have to hold you 4 hours, even if I think you're stone cold sober. I have the right however, to hold you up to 24, and I cannot be sued, or charged for this. IPDA is busy, with people constantly in and out. I cannot guarantee when you'll be out, and it honestly depends a lot on you anyway. I will not let you out after 4 hours if I don't think you are ready.

8. Being from the suburbs does not make you better then the other people in there, in fact, many of them are from the suburbs as well. Telling me you're "not like them" will not raise my opinion of you. And, it won't get you out.

9. Type 2 diabetes is not a free ticket out of the drunk tank. Neither is arthritis. You knew you had these conditions, and yet you chose to drink to the point of high intoxication. I don't feel sorry for you. you made your choice.

10. I will not let you kill yourself, but if you did, it is not my fault, even if you tell me it is. See the thing is, if you're trying to kill yourself, I will get the police to take away all objects in your room, including your bra, socks, and clothes if necessary.

So there you have it IPDA, behave, I see drunk people every day, I'm not making an exception for you.

Love from,

The girl who locks you up.

over confidence

Okay, so I just slept from 4PM to 8AM with only minimal interruptions. That is so, so, not healthy. Neither, apparently, is my over confidence.

I've noticed at work, that my favourite supervisor has been really laying into me about putting myself in unsafe situations. Part of this it turns out is that management has been spying on us through the camera system and he got a lecture about us, but part of this is very directed at me.

At first, I was mad. I thought, what the heck, I know what I'm doing. I have experience, blah, blah, blah, I'm right, he's wrong. I was taking it as a personal insult, and I was FRUSTRATED! Because it kept happening though, I realized I should probably take a look at my behaviour and figure out what exactly was going on.

I've always thought of myself as having a healthy fear level, especially recently. Having struggled greatly with anxiety in the past, feeling confident is something relatively new for me. I tend to be more fearful them some staff members and less fearful then others.

The biggest issue seems to be in the drunk tank. As staff, we have the option of giving detainees water, or not. I rarely, rarely do, this is not my issue. The first issue seems to come in the way we wake people up. Generally, we're supposed to bang on people's doors and scream. I have a hard time with this, because sometimes everyone else is FINALLY quiet, I don't want to set it all off. I'd rather open the door, lean in, and speak loudly. If they don't wake up, then I have to "kick" them (shake gently with foot while holding door). I NEVER let go of the door, I never bend over and use a hand unless someone else is present. I'm CAREFUL.

My biggest issue seems to be however, when a client is having a medical or psychological emergency. I like to right in there with them. If the person is having a hard time breathing, I want to be in there rubbing their back and monitoring breathing. I want to be ready to perform CPR if necessary. If a client is having a panic attack, I want to be in there, looking into their eyes helping them ground themselves and breath through it. I've had panic attacks, and they're freaking scary. This, is where I get myself in trouble though. My instinct is to reassure and protect, and I tend to forget about MY safety.

Unfortunately, my supervisor's right. I need to be more careful, and I'm glad he's willing to reprimand me. See the thing is, I trust him, and I trust his judgment, he's very discerning and perceptive, and he really is trying to help me. He doesn't want to see me hurt, or on leave for PTSD. He's been there WAY longer then me, longer in fact then I've been alive. Of course he knows. He's seen it all before.

And so, goal of the week. Watch myself, and discuss. I love having a supervisor I can actually talk to, even if he's not a social worker. This week I am going to pay attention to my confidence levels, the risks I take, the risks I don't take, and the feedback I get from other staff. It sucks to be wrong, and told you need to change your actions/attitudes, but it's important, and I'm glad I have a supervisor willing to do that.

bad bad day

I had a bad day at work last night. There's no other way to describe it. Yuck. Part of it is that I'm really stressed about packing, cleaning and moving, but part of it is just that last night sucked. I went into it with a really good attitude, but alas... it sucked all the same.

The drunk tank was a gong show. It just never slowed down all evening. At one point we had seven police cars waiting outside. Seriously. Don't they have anything better to do then pick up drunk people?

But the thing I found hardest was a woman who was going through a psychotic episode. Situations had lead to her going off her meds, and here she was, drunk and delusional. She was just freaking out, and my supervisor would NOT let me go into her cell to calm her down and it pissed me off. I was eventually able to calm her down through the window, but seriously. I mean, the poor woman was lying on cement crying and shaking, she's wasn't violent. But, I know he's just trying to protect me.

We called an ambulance, because we couldn't release her to herself in that state, and she'd been there a LONG time. Because it's a mental health crisis though, it's not an "emergency" apparently. We'll, I'm sorry. She was far more in need of intervention then many of the people I call the ambulance for who have physical complaints. This woman was seriously, seriously freaked out and desperately needed help. Bah. It took 40 minutes at least for an ambulance to arrive. I mean, I call for a possibly broken ankle and it comes with sirens blaring (read: not an emergency), and yet for this, they just slowly drive up.

We were also short staffed. TWO people called in. Thankfully a couple people but in a little over time, but we were still short. We'll be short again tonight. I am NOT impressed.

So much more happened, but nothing all that exciting. I just feel very...beaten down. Most of the time I find with my job, but tonight just really wore at me. A lot. sigh.

sexual harassment and me...sigh

I'm mad enough right now that I'm going to post a fairly real story. As usual, details and stuff have been changed, but really, I don't know how I could even begin to make this up. Did you now I have "buffalo breasts"? Because I didn't!

So I have this IDPA. He's crazy. And by that, I mean he's intoxicated and has a severe and persistent mental illness. I'm not one to use the word crazy, but in this instance, it seemed fitting. The police who gave him to me apologized for doing so. I said, oh, I'm sure it'll be fine, little did I know.

Stuck him in a cameraed cell...mistake (or well, actually a good thing). Guy gets naked and starts masturbating. Guy is very harassing towards me when I'm doing checks, but whatever, I'm ignoring him for the most part. This guy is very creative when it comes to finding ways to please himself, which is hard when all you have is a mat. I am trying very hard not to watch, but when he's not busy with himself, he's doing stuff like throwing himself against cement walls at high speed or shreding his mat into tiny pieces.

I have never been talked to the way this guy talked to me. Asking me to come "suck his dick" and offering me sex even though I'm "ugly". I won't get into it, but it was incredibely vulgar, and I had no choice but to ignore it, or argue, and I don't argue with intoxicated people. My supervisor came and told him to put "it" away and all he said was "isn't it big". So fine. I'm busy ignoring him. Then the police come to drop off another IPDA, and this, is why I'm mad. And, I don't have to protect their privacy, only my IPDA's.

So anyway, one of the cops sees my IPDA who by now has semen all over his cell and window. Cop tells IPDA that I'm at the front laughing at him masturbating for the camera (yes, he was totally thinking of me, and looking right at the camera). So then the police officer comes over, around the counter to my side, and tells me what he told the IPDA (i couldn't hear because it was the other end). Then he says "so are you watching" I said "no, actually I'm trying not to, he's been harassing me all night". Then the officer says "I so caught you, you like it, I know you liked it, I'm just going to go tell him how much you like it", and then he takes off down the hall, again, I couldn't hear what he said. There was more to the conversation, but yeah. The freaking cops are egging the guy on, and harassing me. BAH!

So, I talked to my supervisor, who got me to file an incident report. Talked with my boss this morning, who's never dealt with this before, but is glad I reported it and is going to talk to our executive director about it... he also lost the incident report in the 24 hours between me reading it and talking to him... i should have photocopied it... oops. I hope he finds it, because it has the best description of the incident. Also the car number of jerk face. Sigh. We'll see what happens, hopefully something. I mean, i'm not a big whiner, and I can deal with intoxicated people being jerks, but the police, they're supposed to be professionals.

Lazy Sunday

I'm having an awesome lazy Sunday. Or well, I suppose it's not so much lazy as just very pressure free. I don't work tonight, so I have no agenda - well, i want to stay up late, but that's not the point...

Church went really well this morning. I still wasn't convinced my sermon was all there, but it was definitely better then last week. It also felt a lot better only working 8 hours before church as opposed to 16.

Tonight, when I'm trying to stay up all night even though I'm not at work, I'm going to work on packing, but for now, I'm relaxing. I had a good nap this afternoon, not waking up till roommate got home from work. I'll probably go back to sleep for a while in a couple hours... we'll see. I still have to work on figuring out this whole staying awake all night when not working thing. Cause I really feel like I'll need to do that. Not sure how I can maintain a schedule if I don't.

Work was not exciting yesterday. There was nothing wrong with it, just nothing out of the ordinary. Had another experience where I released people from IPDA who seemed totally sober and nice and then were jerks when they got out. Also had a woman trying to make love to her cell door...