#8 How Things Work...or Don't

Well...

Another day, another load of paperwork....and people. Worked all afternoon at the Family Services center. This time as a caseworker. Intake was a whole lot easier. After this day, I would look back at the one carbon paper form that I had been using, wistfully.

Before going into work, I first stopped at the main office to talk with the head of services. I happened to walk in at the same time as "Anna", who had just returned from her deployment in Louisiana. It did not sound pretty. Nowhere to sleep, services overwhelmed, teeth to be brushed with bottled water only. Someone even approached her with a kinfe. Still, she said that they had done good things. She welcomed the chance to return as soon as they would let her. "Anna" is 66, and about 5' tall.

As I left, crossed the street, and walked down the alley to the entrance of the Family Services Center, I encountered one of our mental health professionals standing there. His name is "Arthur". "Arthur" is somewhere between 65 and 70 years old. He stands about 6' 3", has a much too long shock of white hair, a large moustache, watery blue eyes and an unfortunate prediliction to brightly patterned sweater vests.

He motioned me over to him, and as is his habit, looked deeply into my eyes and took my hand. Never letting go of my hand, still looking at me with a heavy demeanor of concern, (one, by the way, that he always has, even if he is only asking the way to the bathroom), he told me that we had a suicidal woman in the buiding. Could I go inside the building and find "Josiah", the other mental health worker and send him out? As he said this, a black and white squad car turned into the alley. Things were off to a roaring start.

I retrieved my hand, rushed into the building, and began to canvas the rooms. I finally found, "Josiah" in a hallway, sitting with a woman who was clearly beside herself. She was weeping. I gently pulled him to one side, and very quietly told him that the police had arrived. To my surprise, he nodded his head and left to go outside, leaving her alone.

Not sure what to do, given the information I was told, I went over to sit and talk with the woman. I introduced myself, and asked how I could help her. There was no calming her down, so I just kept on talking. Those of you who know me well are laughing now,(or wincing), because you know just how well I can do that.

I told her that I knew how she felt. That we had many clients that had no ID, and we were still successful at putting them through after a computer search. I told her that I had been in disasters myself, and had needed the Red Cross' help. I started to ask her questions. I just kept on talking, she just kept on crying. Finally she began to respond.

She said that she had no ID, she had just moved to Louisiana from Arkansas and her husband had disappeared during the storm. She still didn't know where he was. She was a mental health caseworker herself. She told me that she had kids, and could give me the number where they were staying. She couldn't believe that she was in this position.

I asked if they had any utilities yet, as we can look up utilities. The answer was no. She changed several parts of her story just slightly, remembering a few things that she hadn't remembered before. Some of those things would help her.

As we kept talking, she calmed down considerably and stopped crying. I took her into the computer room, introduced her, and they started the search. As I was leaving, I turned and saw that she was calm, eagerly talking to the computer tech, handing her what few papers she had. I went outside.

I found both mental health guys in the parking lot talking to the police. I noticed that one of the officers held a bag chock full of pill bottles. Not just a few pill bottles, I mean about twenty pill bottles. They were hers. When she was told that she couldn't be helped without ID, she had gone off crying while the volunteers were trying to figure out the next step in helping her.

Someone had seen her pull out the bag, take out a bottle, uncap it, and pour out a handful of pills into her palm. She had a bottle of water. That was when one of the staff was called to intervene. I stumbled on the scene right after.

The police and the mental health workers talked among themselves and to me. The psychologists felt that although she had calmed down, they couldn't risk her perhaps hurting herself, or someone else, so the decision was made to take her into the hospital for observation. I went back to work.

Later I found out that she had not gone easily. There was quite a scene. The pills that had been in those bottles, were mostly painkillers. Vicodin, Demerol, etc... They were in her name, and came from pharmacies in Arkansas and Los Angeles. Nothing from Louisiana.

Someone finally reached her son at the number she gave in Los Angeles. We assumed from what she said, that he had been evacuated too. He lives here. He thought that she lived here. He said that he hadn't seen or heard from his mother in eight years.

The consensus in the end was that she was local, and she had some serious emotional problems. Speaking with the computer tech, "Sandia", she mentioned that the woman kept on changing her story over and over again. I might hear later how it turned out. I might not.

This is only one kind of situation that comes up in a disaster recovery. Everyone and everything comes out of the woodwork. It is one of our jobs to separate those truly in need from the local knuckleheads and those, local and otherwise, whose emotional stability could use some help.

From what I heard one of the local knuckleheads had come in the day before. he was 16. Tried to claim that he was a "head of household", and put in a claim for himself and his 5 children. When the staff stoped laughing, they threw him out.

Oh...I did hear about "Deewain"....from a few days ago..... After I had to leave, another mental health worker did show up, looked for him and spent quite some time talking to him. He has appointments to go back all of this week. He was given his debit card, and housing. Clothes were found for him. So that at least is good news.

Finally I got to the casework. What a lot of forms!!

First, you review the intake form. Every line. "Just in case". I found there was a lot of "just in case" to correct. Then you make a copy of their ID, and any cross references needed to verify their ID. Then you finish filling out the very very long intake form.

Next there is a form for money and transportation, ranges from $350 for one person to a nice chunk of change for a family of five. After that, if needed, there is housing and medical and more. your hand could fall off from filling them out all day.

After you are finished with the forms, or......you have used up all of the ink in your pen from the filling, you walk the client over to Medical if they need it. There they are seen by a nurse who assesses their needs, and refers them. We pay for this.

When they are done there, you escort the client to the "bank". There, their case is again reviewed, and approved. They are given a debit card with the approved amount of money, and given their housing information and placement. From there we send the information to FEMA.

FEMA. What can I say? I can't. Voicing an opinion about another agency is a no no. FEMA has a 24 hour a day help line. From what the evacuees have told me, the only time that you have even the remotest chance of reaching FEMA is at 2 in the morning....on a phone that works....in an area that isn't affected......because the phones don't work if you are in an area that is affected...and if they do work, you'd still best call at 2 am.

On the other hand, you can get to FEMA by computer. That is if you own a computer.....or know how to use a computer......or are in an area that has electricity. Or computer service....where the server isn't down. Oh yeah....apparently, due to the large volume of people trying to access the FEMA site on line, the best time to access it is at 2 in the morning. Draw your own conclusions.

I did however talk to one client who called FEMA 30 or so times, was able to reach them, only to have them tell him that they had lost his case number when he reached them a second time after the next 46 calls. However, in cross referencing his ID through his bank, we found that FEMA had transferred $2000 into his bank account within two days of the first call to them. Just shows ta go ya.

In case you didn't know much about the Red Cross: There is a paid staff, but it is relatively small. Everyone else is a volunteer. All of the volunteers are unpaid. There are hundreds of volunteers. All of the money to help those in need, comes from your donations, and the vast majority of those donations get to who they are supposed to.

One of our jobs is to make sure...through paperwork, references and cross-references that those in need are who they say they are, so that your money and mine goes where its supposed to. Sometimes it takes more time that we would like it to, but all things considered, it is remarkably fast.

There is a lot more to tell...like about the guy who is a band manager and a minister that marries people on cruise ships. Who in trying to help 28 musicians from Louisiana, almost lost the funding for all of them....... and a lot more odd stories......but I have put too many words to pixels today, so they will have to wait. Don't want to bore you.

Until next time...

Take care,

Lisa