The Crisis Being Ignored By Everyone In Connecticut
The Crisis Being Ignored By Everyone In Connecticut
Below is the text of an article that I drafted on October 13, 2020, at 2:16 PM. I never got the chance to finish writing it as the battery in my laptop died. But I feel it's important to bring it to light now, as I have a friend who is in a similar situation, and not much has changed in the system since I wrote this, according to them. They don't want their name being used, and I can understand that. When I was homeless, it wasn't something I was particularly proud (or fond) of. It was circumstantial. And if you think it can't ever happen to you, think again.
How the Unhoused are Impacted by COVID-19
Hartford, Connecticut, October 13, 2020. 2:16 PM. Believe it or not, COVID-19 isn't the only crisis being faced by residents in the State of Connecticut. In fact, there are other crises many residents in the state have been dealing with that have been largely ignored, and the COVID-19 crisis has only made matters much, much worse. One such crisis in particular is homelessness.
One case in point is my own journey into homelessness, which began this January. At the end of February, I wound up becoming a patient at the Institute of Living, one of the first mental health institutions in the United States of America, to treat my ongoing severe depression and suicidal ideation.
Upon being discharged, I was sent to a respite program that advertises itself as providing a refuge for those who need "a comfortable, safe, temporary space to foster ongoing recovery from acute illnesses, with the goal of reducing rapid re-utilization of the hospital system," according to their website. The Respite also promises to "offer individualized case management services to assist with housing, obtaining income, and scheduling follow-up care."
It sounds great in theory; however, rest assured it is anything but. I had barely spent two nights there before I was back in Hartford Hospital's Emergency Department due to the facility's inability to keep residents from smoking inside the building (which triggered an asthma/COPD attack that cascaded into an anxiety/panic attack because all of my medications—including inhalers—were thrown out at some point during my inpatient hospitalization).
To make matters worse, the staff on duty at the time couldn't figure out how to let EMS in through the gates, so they were delayed in providing critical care!
More than 96 hours after this incident, I met the executive director here and brought the matter to her attention. It was the first time she was hearing about any of it. For more than 96 hours to pass and the executive director not to hear about EMS being on the premises of her organization (never mind the problems they encountered gaining access and the reason for their coming in the first place) simply is inexcusable and only foretells of problems with the competent operation of an organization.
To list all of the incompetencies I and others observed during my 30-day stay at the Respite would require a book. Suffice it to say, they were numerous and ranged from minor infractions of policy to major breaches in the duty of care provided to "guests" of the Respite. And that's not even getting into the behavioral issues of staff.
To make matters worse, I contracted COVID-19 during my stay at SPI (note: due to the nature of COVID-19, I have no way of knowing when or where I contracted the virus). On the advice of Hartford Hospital's ED, I was to return home and self-quarantine as my case was only mild and not severe or critical (but if symptoms worsened, return immediately, etc., etc.).
While under quarantine, there were a number of incidents, ranging from not providing my medications to improperly prepared staff members entering the quarantine area (one such member came in with no protective gear whatsoever and then returned wearing a plastic garbage bag when I inquired as to why she was not wearing any protective gear). We disagreed over the length of quarantine, and the staff tasked with medical tasks such as monitoring temperatures and other vital stats had no medical training whatsoever.
When I was told (rather rudely) that my quarantine period was over (despite still exhibiting some symptoms) and if I didn't return to the respite floor, I would be moved there with or without my cooperation, I was then told that I had exceeded my stay in Respite and needed to pack up my belongings and go downstairs to the lobby and wait. When I questioned this, I was told that I wasn't the only person affected, that there were four or five others who were having to do the same thing.
So despite orders by Governor Ned Lamont to the contrary, which I confirmed with the state's 211 Coordinated Access Network, five or six of us who had exceeded our 30-day stays at the Respite were being forced to pack up our belongings and head downstairs to the lobby to wait...for what, exactly, we weren't certain.
As it turned out, we were to become homeless within the homeless shelter. The reason for this, despite the Governor's orders not to move anyone out of a shelter situation? Because the hospital might need to send patients to the respite in the future, so anyone who has exceeded their 30-day stay needed to be discharged from the program.
That's right. Despite the fact that our beds (and the beds of others who had been similarly discharged while I was in quarantine) now sat empty upstairs, we were being forced to, for all intents and purposes, live in the lobby of the building on hard, plastic furniture in a high-traffic, low-sanitation area with a glaringly loud television running nearly 24/7. None of the four other "guests" of the Respite were satisfied with this arrangement.
But this is typical of the treatment the homeless receive because once a person becomes homeless, they turn into a "nobody" who no one wants to help. They become one of the "invisible" members of society, someone you can look straight through and not see standing right in front of you. I know that most won't have even read this far into this article. They will have stopped reading by now and turned to something more entertaining, for that is the way of society today. News and items of real import are not to be considered, much less discussed.
The sad problem is, though, that it is so easy for anyone to become homeless. Before becoming homeless, I had a life. I had a home. I was a "somebody." But a number of factors came together in a blizzard of confusing, painful circumstances that left me without a home, in desperate need of help, and in need of assistance that I thus far have been unable to find.
Such is the case of many of my fellow homeless sisters and brothers whom I have met. The people here all come from different sorts of backgrounds, and we all are dealing with myriad issues of one sort or another—including one man who lost his home due to drug and gang violence that overran his neighborhood.
One case in point is my own journey into homelessness, which began this January. At the end of February, I wound up becoming a patient at the Institute of Living, one of the first mental health institutions in the United States of America, to treat my ongoing severe depression and suicidal ideation.
Upon being discharged, I was sent to a respite program that advertises itself as providing a refuge for those who need "a comfortable, safe, temporary space to foster ongoing recovery from acute illnesses, with the goal of reducing rapid re-utilization of the hospital system," according to their website. The Respite also promises to "offer individualized case management services to assist with housing, obtaining income, and scheduling follow-up care."
It sounds great in theory; however, rest assured it is anything but. I had barely spent two nights there before I was back in Hartford Hospital's Emergency Department due to the facility's inability to keep residents from smoking inside the building (which triggered an asthma/COPD attack that cascaded into an anxiety/panic attack because all of my medications—including inhalers—were thrown out at some point during my inpatient hospitalization).
To make matters worse, the staff on duty at the time couldn't figure out how to let EMS in through the gates, so they were delayed in providing critical care!
More than 96 hours after this incident, I met the executive director here and brought the matter to her attention. It was the first time she was hearing about any of it. For more than 96 hours to pass and the executive director not to hear about EMS being on the premises of her organization (never mind the problems they encountered gaining access and the reason for their coming in the first place) simply is inexcusable and only foretells of problems with the competent operation of an organization.
To list all of the incompetencies I and others observed during my 30-day stay at the Respite would require a book. Suffice it to say, they were numerous and ranged from minor infractions of policy to major breaches in the duty of care provided to "guests" of the Respite. And that's not even getting into the behavioral issues of staff.
To make matters worse, I contracted COVID-19 during my stay at SPI (note: due to the nature of COVID-19, I have no way of knowing when or where I contracted the virus). On the advice of Hartford Hospital's ED, I was to return home and self-quarantine as my case was only mild and not severe or critical (but if symptoms worsened, return immediately, etc., etc.).
While under quarantine, there were a number of incidents, ranging from not providing my medications to improperly prepared staff members entering the quarantine area (one such member came in with no protective gear whatsoever and then returned wearing a plastic garbage bag when I inquired as to why she was not wearing any protective gear). We disagreed over the length of quarantine, and the staff tasked with medical tasks such as monitoring temperatures and other vital stats had no medical training whatsoever.
When I was told (rather rudely) that my quarantine period was over (despite still exhibiting some symptoms) and if I didn't return to the respite floor, I would be moved there with or without my cooperation, I was then told that I had exceeded my stay in Respite and needed to pack up my belongings and go downstairs to the lobby and wait. When I questioned this, I was told that I wasn't the only person affected, that there were four or five others who were having to do the same thing.
So despite orders by Governor Ned Lamont to the contrary, which I confirmed with the state's 211 Coordinated Access Network, five or six of us who had exceeded our 30-day stays at the Respite were being forced to pack up our belongings and head downstairs to the lobby to wait...for what, exactly, we weren't certain.
As it turned out, we were to become homeless within the homeless shelter. The reason for this, despite the Governor's orders not to move anyone out of a shelter situation? Because the hospital might need to send patients to the respite in the future, so anyone who has exceeded their 30-day stay needed to be discharged from the program.
That's right. Despite the fact that our beds (and the beds of others who had been similarly discharged while I was in quarantine) now sat empty upstairs, we were being forced to, for all intents and purposes, live in the lobby of the building on hard, plastic furniture in a high-traffic, low-sanitation area with a glaringly loud television running nearly 24/7. None of the four other "guests" of the Respite were satisfied with this arrangement.
But this is typical of the treatment the homeless receive because once a person becomes homeless, they turn into a "nobody" who no one wants to help. They become one of the "invisible" members of society, someone you can look straight through and not see standing right in front of you. I know that most won't have even read this far into this article. They will have stopped reading by now and turned to something more entertaining, for that is the way of society today. News and items of real import are not to be considered, much less discussed.
The sad problem is, though, that it is so easy for anyone to become homeless. Before becoming homeless, I had a life. I had a home. I was a "somebody." But a number of factors came together in a blizzard of confusing, painful circumstances that left me without a home, in desperate need of help, and in need of assistance that I thus far have been unable to find.
Such is the case of many of my fellow homeless sisters and brothers whom I have met. The people here all come from different sorts of backgrounds, and we all are dealing with myriad issues of one sort or another—including one man who lost his home due to drug and gang violence that overran his neighborhood.
Of particular note, over half of the individuals here are over 50.
Everyone here has their own story of how they came into homelessness, but there is one thing we all have in common: we are people, individuals, human beings, and none of us have chosen to be homeless. We all need help, and none of us are receiving the help we so desperately need.
Currently, the state is blaming the inability to serve the homeless population in Hartford County on COVID-19, but that's merely an excuse. The same response has been provided by the state's 211 system to those who report being homeless for the past six months, if not longer: 'We're sorry, but all the shelters are full; there's nothing we can offer you except a warming center, which is on a first-come, first-serve basis.' And if you're literally not one of the very first people to get to the warming center, then you're essentially out of luck for the night and left to sleep on the streets.
And it's been this case for at least the last six months or longer. What's more, this is partially reflected in data provided by the CT Coalition to End Homelessness. More surprisingly, during the past few years, while the number of total homeless in the Hartford region has gone down, the number of unsheltered homeless in the region has actually risen.
Everyone here has their own story of how they came into homelessness, but there is one thing we all have in common: we are people, individuals, human beings, and none of us have chosen to be homeless. We all need help, and none of us are receiving the help we so desperately need.
Currently, the state is blaming the inability to serve the homeless population in Hartford County on COVID-19, but that's merely an excuse. The same response has been provided by the state's 211 system to those who report being homeless for the past six months, if not longer: 'We're sorry, but all the shelters are full; there's nothing we can offer you except a warming center, which is on a first-come, first-serve basis.' And if you're literally not one of the very first people to get to the warming center, then you're essentially out of luck for the night and left to sleep on the streets.
And it's been this case for at least the last six months or longer. What's more, this is partially reflected in data provided by the CT Coalition to End Homelessness. More surprisingly, during the past few years, while the number of total homeless in the Hartford region has gone down, the number of unsheltered homeless in the region has actually risen.
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