Got No Blood On My Hands.
He was wandering around the front office looking for someone when I came back up from the warehouse. A middle-aged Italian man, his hands were strong as was his face, and I thought that he was probably quite handsome when he was younger. He looked like an aging movie star from the 40s or 50s; strong and rugged, a far cry from the Leonardo diCaprios of today.
“Hi… how can I help you?”
“Hi, uh, um.” His face began to twitch a little as he tried to force the words out. “I was supposed to see Anne. I, ah…”
I noticed that he had two bills in his hand, one looked like it was from Columbia Gas. I interjected.
“Are you here for casework? Some type of assistance?”
“Ah, I guess, yeah, I don’t know. I talked to Anne?”
“Ok. Anne’s out sick today. I’m pretending to be the caseworker. Come into her office with me and we’ll see if I’m convincing or not.”
He chuckled and looked relieved as he took his station across the desk from me. He put the stack of papers that had been in his hand onto the desk and pushed them over to me. I noticed that the top paper was a release form from a correctional facility.
“I just got out,” he said without making eye contact. “My wife, well, we’re separated now. She tried to keep up on the bills while I was locked up but she got behind. I got these shut off notices… gas and electric. I got no job, I’m trying, I’ve…” his face began to twitch again as he tried to force all of this information out as fast as he could. “There are a lot of people who care about me. Bosses who sent me money while I was in there. I can work but I can’t, I mean…” He looked up at me. “I gotta take care of this. I got a hernia when I was in there. I had set up with the doctor in jail to get surgery on it, but they play games with you in there, they screw you around. They saw that my release date was coming up in 90 days so they kept just moving the surgery date back and back and back, so that they never actually had to do it. One less thing to pay for. God, it’s getting bad now, almost to my scrotum.”
He shuddered and I wondered what this conversation might be like if I hadn’t met Ryan. I had so much empathy for this client, much more so than for any other client that I had ever interacted with. I thought about the metal walls and the constant television and the dirt, disease, neglect, the night of excruciating pain and the deputy who did nothing about it. Did this guy have a night like that, too? I wanted to give him everything we had, twice.
“You always heard these horror stories, too. See, the clinic where they were going to do the surgery was in Columbus, it was a part of the OSU medical program. So you had students working on you. I heard about a guy who went in for hernia surgery and came out with a colostomy bag because they nicked his intestine. And they don’t fix that kind of stuff. Plus you have to go down there to meet with the doctor in shackles, it’s..”
“Dehumanizing.”
“Yeah.”
I gave him every bit of information I could find about the different services we offer and the other agencies in Lorain County. “Come back tomorrow for our food distribution. When you end up getting your surgery, we have prescription assistance available, so if you can’t pay for them we can help.”
He looked me in the eyes again as he got up and smiled warmly. “Thanks so much, I really appreciate this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And as he left I felt myself hope with a sudden urgency that I do see him again tomorrow.
“Hi… how can I help you?”
“Hi, uh, um.” His face began to twitch a little as he tried to force the words out. “I was supposed to see Anne. I, ah…”
I noticed that he had two bills in his hand, one looked like it was from Columbia Gas. I interjected.
“Are you here for casework? Some type of assistance?”
“Ah, I guess, yeah, I don’t know. I talked to Anne?”
“Ok. Anne’s out sick today. I’m pretending to be the caseworker. Come into her office with me and we’ll see if I’m convincing or not.”
He chuckled and looked relieved as he took his station across the desk from me. He put the stack of papers that had been in his hand onto the desk and pushed them over to me. I noticed that the top paper was a release form from a correctional facility.
“I just got out,” he said without making eye contact. “My wife, well, we’re separated now. She tried to keep up on the bills while I was locked up but she got behind. I got these shut off notices… gas and electric. I got no job, I’m trying, I’ve…” his face began to twitch again as he tried to force all of this information out as fast as he could. “There are a lot of people who care about me. Bosses who sent me money while I was in there. I can work but I can’t, I mean…” He looked up at me. “I gotta take care of this. I got a hernia when I was in there. I had set up with the doctor in jail to get surgery on it, but they play games with you in there, they screw you around. They saw that my release date was coming up in 90 days so they kept just moving the surgery date back and back and back, so that they never actually had to do it. One less thing to pay for. God, it’s getting bad now, almost to my scrotum.”
He shuddered and I wondered what this conversation might be like if I hadn’t met Ryan. I had so much empathy for this client, much more so than for any other client that I had ever interacted with. I thought about the metal walls and the constant television and the dirt, disease, neglect, the night of excruciating pain and the deputy who did nothing about it. Did this guy have a night like that, too? I wanted to give him everything we had, twice.
“You always heard these horror stories, too. See, the clinic where they were going to do the surgery was in Columbus, it was a part of the OSU medical program. So you had students working on you. I heard about a guy who went in for hernia surgery and came out with a colostomy bag because they nicked his intestine. And they don’t fix that kind of stuff. Plus you have to go down there to meet with the doctor in shackles, it’s..”
“Dehumanizing.”
“Yeah.”
I gave him every bit of information I could find about the different services we offer and the other agencies in Lorain County. “Come back tomorrow for our food distribution. When you end up getting your surgery, we have prescription assistance available, so if you can’t pay for them we can help.”
He looked me in the eyes again as he got up and smiled warmly. “Thanks so much, I really appreciate this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And as he left I felt myself hope with a sudden urgency that I do see him again tomorrow.
2 Comments:
At 4:09 PM,
C.George said…
This is the first blog post that has ever made me tear up. Not only because of the pain but because of a glimpse at some kind of hope. Thank you for writing it down.
At 1:15 PM,
euc said…
:)
He came back today like he said he would and his eyes looked really hopeful. It always amazes me the amount of hardship that human beings are equipped to deal with! Thanks for yer comment.
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