Stories

Mary and the “porch dwellers”

During the summer at St. Ben’s, homeless people, mostly women, set up beds on the front porch after the clinic has closed; the small group is always gone in the morning before the clinic opens. The “porch dwellers,” who are former or current St. Ben’s patients, respect the clinic, look after staff members who must walk to their cars late at night, and keep the porch very clean, sometimes asking Mullooly for a broom.

One day, a porch dweller brought a woman into the clinic, saying that Mary had come to the porch a week ago and needed help. Mary looked very weathered and exhausted; her long gray-and-white hair had not been washed in a while. When Mullooly asked how he could help, Mary told of being evicted from a house where she was renting a room. She did not want to contact her family because she was embarrassed. “I’m just tired and need to rest,” she kept saying.

Mullooly learned that Mary also deals with issues involving anxiety and depression, and that she had insurance through the state. He asked her whether she was interested in going to Columbia St. Mary’s (CSM) Inpatient Behavioral Medicine Center to rest and get back on the right track. Mary was concerned about being locked up; he explained that it was voluntary and that she could leave when she wanted. After a few phone calls, she was off to CSM in a taxi.

A few hours later, Mullooly received a call from Mary, who was crying. “This place is so peaceful,” she said. “I can finally get some rest and put things back together.” He said that made him happy and asked whether he could do anything else for her. “Yes,” she said, “tell the ladies on the porch that I am doing OK and am grateful for all they did for me.”

Mullooly said, “St. Ben’s Clinic is a place of healing, and I was moved by the love, concern, and support our patients showed this weary traveler out on our front porch.”

Patiently Looking Ahead

Fiercely independent, Bob has lived at the Milwaukee Rescue Mission for about ten years. For a long time, he looked at the world through rose-colored glasses—big, thick, rose-colored eyeglasses. St. Ben’s Clinic social worker, Bill Mullooly, often cleaned Bob’s glasses as they talked, e.g., about taking hypertension medication, signing up for disability income and getting new glasses.

A graduate of Marquette High School who went on to get a Ph.D. in chemistry from Stanford University, Bob is hardly a person one would expect to find homeless. He was, in fact, gainfully employed in academia—until he developed mental health problems. Even when his mental illness led to unemployment, he maintained a one-room residence with the $205 General Assistance check he received—until he was evicted when mental illness caused him to reject government support.

Many times Bill tried to get Bob to take his prescription for hypertension, to accept disability income and to replace those rose-colored glasses, to no avail. One day, as Bill carefully polished the glasses, Bob finally agreed to take his hypertension prescription. Bill was pleased with his long-in-coming success. He returned the glasses. Bob’s view remained rose-colored—until someone at the Rescue Mission accidentally broke his glasses. Teasing that he had paid-off the “crusher,” Bill happily scheduled an eye exam for Bob and arranged for new glasses. While they’re not rose-colored, Bob still has not seen his way clear to sign up for disability income. “That’s OK. I’ll keep using the long-term approach,” says the patient, persistent, hopeful St. Ben’s social worker. Such optimism! One wonders whether Bill, perhaps, has acquired some rose-colored glasses.

Because She Listened…

Jack’s jokes weren’t funny to most people. Maybe he told jokes to keep St. Ben’s staff from seeing the pain he suffered—not just physical pain, but emotional pain. Maybe the jokes kept him from recognizing that pain, himself.

“He was dressed like a pack mule; everything he owned was on his back,” observed St. Ben’s Social Worker Bill Mullooly, but that’s not all Bill observed. He also noticed that a student social worker had surprising success when she talked with Jack, so Bill let her work with him.

Jack told her that he had been homeless for six months. He was living at the Rescue Mission. She thought his jokes were funny. She listened. He was divorced. She listened some more and went home in tears one day after he explained that his children had asked him to stay out of their lives. The next time they met, he joked again. She laughed again, but now she had learned to listen to feelings behind the jokes. He reached in his “pack” and took out some wire. He fiddled with the wire while he talked. She listened and learned that Jack had a history of alcohol abuse, depression, coronary problems, gastrointestinal illness, obesity and hypertension. He fiddled with the wire while she helped him get enrolled in the General Assistance Medical Program (GAMP) so that he would have insurance coverage.

Jack kept his appointments. He joked. She laughed. He fiddled with the wire. She listened. Then one day she was leaving St. Ben’s. Jack came to say goodbye. He didn’t joke. He called her an angel and said, “Thanks for being present to the moment with me.” Then he handed her a little wire angel.

When Are Newspapers Bandages?

When a homeless person becomes really desperate, newspapers serve as bandages. Ellen Krueger, RN learned this fact as she provided outreach service for Columbia St. Mary’s St. Ben’s Clinic at an outreach site in St. James Meal Program in downtown Milwaukee. She was approached there by Harold, a man who had lived on the streets for some time. He was one of the many street people who have a difficult time trusting others, even when in pain. On this day, however, the pain was too much to bear and he asked Ellen for her help with his feet.

As Harold took off his shoes, Ellen saw one reason for his foot pain, no socks. His poor-fitting shoes were rubbing directly on his swollen feet. He had large open sores that he tried to relieve by packing newspapers into the shoes. Needless to say, the newspapers were making his feet dirtier and only making things worse. Ellen’s first action was to cover his wounds with gauze and then to talk to him seriously about coming to St. Ben’s Clinic to have the wounds really cared for.

Harold had developed enough trust in Ellen that he did come to the Clinic. There his feet were soaked, antibiotic ointment was supplied and new socks were given to him. A voucher for shoes was provided by the social worker and Harold was on his way to healing. It did take him several more appointments to have his feet healed completely; but that afforded the time for him to really develop trust in the Clinic and to begin to address his Chronic Lung Disease. Now that he is a part of a health care system, he will no longer need newspapers for bandages.