HAPPY PIC

Photo Credit: Marisa Farnsworth

Awesome blossoms.

Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

PROFIT TRUMPS PATIENT CARE by David L. Bain

I spent over three hours yesterday with the parents of an adult son with serious mental illness (SMI). He was doing okay on a treatment plan on Medi-Cal. Then Medi-Cal changed service providers and the new providers wouldn't cover his medication. They gave him pills they would pay for.

His psychiatrist wrote a request/demand letter stating his need for the original meds.  It was denied. The psychiatrist wrote a second letter. It was accepted. The letter arrived at the parents house the day after their son ended his life. The day before the son had said, "I need the old script. These new pills aren't working for me." 

I just love it when profit trumps patient care.

David is Executive Director of NAMI, Sacramento.

Photo Credit: Sorrow by Ali Amirkhizi
Flickr.com

IN A STATE OF SHOCK by Kim West

March 12, 2017

Ty is a victim again. Tyler, our 18-year-old son was beaten up in jail last night. The guy who beat him was a lot bigger then Ty. No one stopped it. Saturday night is commissary night. No one called the guards. They didn't want to get locked in before they received their commissary. There are parts of the event he doesn't remember. He fell asleep and, thank God, he woke up this morning. No one checked on him during the night and he hasn't been checked on by a nurse or doctor. Why would you put a kid, who never hurt anyone, in with violent offenders?

Now, Ty has a headache and a black eye. He's nauseated and feels drunk and tipsy. This is concussion number 5 or 6. All have been severe. Another traumatic brain injury! Getting beat up is nothing new for my baby.

This will not help Ty's other problem. He hears voices. If only doctors had kept him in the hospital long term. Out of 15 ER visits, in under 2 years, he's spent only 2 weeks total as an inpatient. He's been hearing voices for at least a year and a half. He's never been stable. He's going to see a forensic psychiatrist next month. 

It's obvious that Muskegon County has a debtor's jail that relies on state money per inmate per day. They are being sued by the ACLU because of it. My main point is county mental health, the police & jail, and probation and parole are motivated to not help. They're all getting paid and do not want to loose their cut of the money. How can we motivate a system that runs off the backs of the poor and mentally ill? These agencies could provide AOT (Assisted Outpatient Treatment) and other programs. They're motivated not to do it. They CHOOSE not to do it.

We have no CIT (Crisis Intervention Training) officers which adds to the problem. Not one trained mental health officer in the entire county. Possibly 2 of my family friends in the House of Representatives will give us a chance to speak at a committee hearing. My knowledge is extensive.  I've been taking care of vulnerable children for 30 years, the majority which are mentally or medically handicapped. Our licenses have been in foster care, adoption, and refugee assistance — specifically for medically fragile children.  I also supervised the housekeeping department for infectious control at Milwaukee County Hospital. I've worked for the Department of Health Services and the legal system for years. 

March 15, 2017, update:  Two days ago I sent a letter to Lt. Governor Calley. At first there was no response. Tonight he said he'll look into Ty's situation. He said we have no judicial power. I also called the Muskegon County jail commander, but he's on vacation. Eventually, I was connected to the jail administrator who seemed angry that I called.  I said, "Ty probably never got a punch in. He's not a fighter. We are pressing charges against the guy who beat him up."

The officer was abrupt.  I said, "I'm a Mom. How am I not supposed to worry?" He said to call jail medical services so I did. The nurse there lied to me and said Ty passed a neurological exam with flying colors. I said, "Ty hasn't passed a neurological exam in years and this is his 6th traumatic head injury. He is a patient at Mary Free Bed Concussion Rehab Clinic. Today, Ty's vision is blurry. He can't see. He's tipsy. Dizzy, His eyes are swollen with a red line going down his face. He was punched in the jaw. He's badly bruised. He doesn't remember parts of what happened. His head hit the floor. He was kicked. He's nauseated and has a headache. We have private insurance that will pay. We can meet you at the hospital."

The nurse replied, "What do you want me to do? "

"We'd like him to get checked out at the hospital by doctors and get an MRI."

"Well, I don't know. What is your phone number?"

I wonder. Did I make things worse for my kid? What should I do next?

March 16, 2017, update: Ty told us tonight that he has a March 22, 2017, sentencing, moved up from June. This hearing will be in Judge Hickes court room, Muskegon County. We took a plea because of his deteriorating mental state. Ty thinks he's going to prison for a year or more - If the judge is merciful. Just scared to death at this point. The sentencing is in less then a week.  The forensic evaluation won't be finished until next month. Our guardianship hearing is scheduled for April 26. This feels like my son's starring in the movie "Unstoppable" with Denzel Washington. We just don't know how to stop this train.

It's apparent to us when Ty is sick. His eyes are blank and we can't talk to him. Especially when he's delusional, paranoid, and is hearing his commanding voices. Just pray, wherever the judge puts him, they'll help him. Hope the judge considers his developmental delay, serious mental illness, and intellectual disability,  Although he has a high IQ, Ty needs mental health treatment for his voices.  We saw him by video tonight. He's very bruised up. He's groggy, doesn't remember previous conversations, and his vision is poor. He kept squinting as he was trying to see us on the camera.

It's so sad. Tyler, my son, is trying to be a man but he's really a boy. This whole thing has left me in a state of shock.

Tyler

HAPPY PIC

Spring morning in New Harmony, Utah

Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

INTERNAL DRUM by Patrick Ranahan

In my memoir, I've divided the sections by the seasons — summer/fall/winter/spring.  I introduce each section with one of my son's poems. The following is the poem for Spring.

INTERNAL DRUM
by Patrick Ranahan

Those footsteps beneath my window
came and went so fast. The ground,
still frozen in spots, begins
its long thaw. The boy passed by
without incident, just the sounds
of his feet, a mud-sucked heartbeat.

When I think about my heartbeat,
its patterns and palpitations, windows
and valves busy with blood, the sounds
of circulation and murmur, the ground
pulses right along with me. It works
by pure magic, this internal drum,

begins anew every moment, always beginning
another push, another pump. Heartbeats
seem to be generated by
superhuman force. I asked the window
what it thought. It said, "there's the ground,
trees point to the sky, I hear no sounds.

But if you can hear the gift of sounds,
place them on the page as evidence of what began
and ended in an instant." A survey of the ground
complete, a military jet maneuvers, its heartbeat
hushed, into its inland cavern, its window-
less womb, where tools clang when dropped by
the uniformed hand. States away, traffic rushes by
the dancing cop, his frantic hands, the short sounds
of whistle and clap. A broker puts his nose to the window
on the thirtieth floor, mutters, "I must begin
my day," clutches his chest and drops, his heartbeat,
tired of his refrain, shows him the ground.

Out in a suburban field, a child squats upon the ground,
runs his fingers through the mud, listens as cars race by.
Today in school he learned the subject heartbeat,
he held his wrist and counted as the sounds
came through his ears by stethoscope. "Begin,"
the teacher said, the children obeyed. The window

took on the fog of nervous youth, and the ground began
its long stretch from the window to the sounds
of the eastern sea, all of this by way of heartbeats.

Published in
Latitude on 2nd
Cool Waters Media, Inc
2012

Photo Credit: DuCkle?<3
Flickr.com

HAPPY PIC

Well, Owl be!

Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

A LITTLE BIRD AND A LIFE LESSON by Gilbert Anderson, Jr.

Recently, I was standing in the sunroom of our home when I noticed a little bird flying toward one of the windows. Apparently, my wife had done a terrific job cleaning the windows because the bird crashed violently into the glass.

The bird fell onto our deck and didn't get up. Something moved me to go out the door and check on the little creature. I saw that she was lying on her back on some of the leaves that are always on our deck in the fall and winter. She was breathing but seemed stunned by the impact.

I spoke to the bird — "Come on little bird, get up and fly away!" I stepped toward her and, as I got closer, she turned over and hopped across the deck away from me. So I kept walking after her softly urging her to go ahead and fly off. She got to the edge of the deck, flew a few feet, and landed in one of the plastic tote boxes we use to collect leaves and weeds from the yard.

I walked down the deck steps and over to the box where the bird still lay. I offered more words of encouragement, but she stayed there lying on a bed of leaves.  So I picked up the box with the bird inside, carried it out into the yard, and dumped it gently into a bed of mulch. When I did this, the little bird flew up into a nearby camellia bush.

I watched the bush for a couple of minutes. I couldn't see the little bird due to the dense foliage, but could hear her chirping. So I put the tote box back next to the house and went inside to continue my day. I don't know what happened to the little bird but I know I did what I could to help her get up and get going. She probably would have been able to go on without my effort, but I'll never know that either.

I think God and the little bird gave me a life lesson. Maybe I should be looking out for people who are down and could use a little encouragement to get them up and moving. They might be able to do it without my help, but at least I should try.

Photo Credit: Living Juicy
Flickr.com

HOLDING IT TOGETHER - Excerpt from My Memoir

September 13, 2013

This afternoon, a new woman joins our Family Mental Illness support group. She's in tears telling us about her son and daughter. They both have schizophrenia.

When she was 47 -- she's now 73 -- Helena left her native country, Czechoslovakia, and came to the US "to escape communist oppression and to escape my husband, who also has schizophrenia."

When she first asked permission to emigrate to the US, Helena was denied because she didn't speak English and didn't appear to be employable. "But I persisted and, at last, we were allowed to come here. I came with my two young children, our few clothes, and not a penny of my own."

In time, Helena learned English and procured employment in an assisted living facility. Now, her daughter has returned to Europe and her son lives in the Bay Area in low-income housing. "My son's been with me for the last week," she says, "and sometimes I'm afraid of him. He's struck me in the past. But I have to let him come. I'm all he has and, because I was raised in an orphanage, I know how it feels to have no door open to you. I can't close my door to him."

Helena refuses to call the police when her son becomes violent because "in my old country, police made irrational arrests of innocent people."

Helena thinks she has enough money to stay in her rented townhouse for a couple more years. "I may have to move and find a two-bedroom apartment for my son and me to live in. I may have to look for a job. I could hostess in a restaurant. I love my son and there's no help for people with illnesses like his. I'm angry and frustrated. I've been trying to hold it together for a long time. I can't do it anymore."

Photo Credit: Sachin Sharmapurikar
Flickr.com

HAPPY PIC

                 Three little birds sitting in a tree...

                 Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

PRISON IS NOT THE ANSWER by Tama Bell

I was told, by New York State mental health officials, to allow my son to commit a crime and then he'd get help for his mental illness through the prison system. My son didn't get help in prison. As a matter of fact, he was beaten and placed in solitary confinement which made his condition worse. He never could be around large groups of people, whether in school or in a mall or in the general population in prison. But being in complete isolation for 3 continuous months almost killed him. We're still dealing with his horrendous PTSD, and how that affects his psychotic/bipolar condition and his delusions.

My son was tortured in prison. Prison is not the answer. We, as a whole, as a collective, must demand that our loved ones be treated before tragedy. We must be given the ability to advocate and help our loved ones when they're unable to help themselves.

One of the ways I've found to be an effective mental illness advocate is to bring our plight to the media. Through a social justice group, someone gave me a name: Brave New Films. They produced a three-part series which I was in, for a minute. Watch the whole thing. People are beginning to wake up.

To view Tama and the film, click on the link below:
This is Crazy: Criminalizing Mental Health

BRAVENEWFILMS.ORG

Photo Credit: Peg1104
Flickr.com