Paul Bass Photo
Wendy Hamilton
New Haven activist Wendy Hamilton wrote this previous article detailing her efforts to help a homeless man named MC find housing. The following article is an update on those efforts as the cold weather arrives.
September: I find MC and make sure he still has a wallet with IDs. I explain three winter options; death by exposure, jail (temporary housing with meals and some healthcare) or housing provided he loses his current contagious skin condition.
Privately I speak to a “secret” hospital source who advises me on how to admit MC at St. Raphael’s, the “friendlier” ER. He omits the fact that I need a legal connection to MC. I find this out the hard way later.
MC refuses my option because it requires days or weeks without booze and smokes. I tell him to call me when and if he’s ready. Meanwhile I offer a large “donation” to social services if they can move him up the housing list — which does not happen.
October: I wait. Dr. Perri Klass writes a sobering New York Times LINK article about prevalent contagious skin conditions. We are all at risk. I write a letter to Yale Public Health School policy wonk complaining about Yale’s lack of concern. No reply.
As fall continues, I consider a potential product for homeless called a RUMPL, LINK made of polyester and nylon. It weighs three pounds including the nylon sack. The company sends a sample, which I give to a homeless six-footer with a cellphone for feedback. I’m still waiting.
November: It’s colder. I go to the Homeless March with my lawyer. LINK I find out Sassy and Rendezvous are leaving Chapel Street by the 15th. This is another sad sign of our decline. I consider buying what’s left of their winterwear for Cafe Sunrise clients.
Nov. 2: I find MC shivering in two parkas and a sweater and very upset that the local deli has 86’d him. I walk over to the deli to find out that the kindly owner has allowed MC to rack up a bill over $1,000. I pay it. I warn MC to use his own cash from now on (from SSI). MC says he’s ready to go to the hospital tomorrow.
Nov. 3: MC arrives late, very intoxicated. Then we had the endless cab wait (if you add all the phone numbers you get the average wait time).
We get to the ER, first in line, and MC is whisked away without me. I explain I need to speak to the MD, to no avail. I am not “legal.” HPPA, LINK an unenforced joke, is mentioned as a lame excuse.
I call my attorney. She arrives quickly with a power of attorney form for us to sign with MC but we are forced to wait. When a nurse comes to get me in, three cops block and threaten me with arrest.
Two hours later, we get i. MC is sedated with Ativan. The nurse refuses to witness a signing,which means MC will go AWOL once he is awake.
Even worse the RN tells my lawyer his stay will be brief anyway. Without power of attorney I can’t question or advise his care, and I am his only advocate. I am guessing I am screwed, and so is he.
I am finally able to reach a doctor by phone. I beg her to call me before he is discharged.
Nov. 4: No call.
Nov 5: While walking down Chapel Street early Sunday I am greeted by MC, drunk, smoking, and in his old filthy clothes and shoes. He doesn’t remember any particular MD or any diagnosis. He is still itchy. I tell him several times to meet me on Monday in the park at 1 p.m.
Nov. 6: Monday, my attorney and I wait for over an hour. MC is a no-show.