Post by Nicole on Nov 9, 2005 8:25:08 GMT -5
November 5, 2005
It was no surprise to me that day my father went into to he mental hospital. He was found in Grand Rapids Michigan sitting next to a dumpster. Near a back alley with brick for pavement. It was the worst of the worst areas in town. Division street was filled full of hookers, jigalows, drug pushers and pimps. I knew by the words of the policeman I'd spoken to that it apeared my father had spent the night right there in his broken wheelchair. One of the wheels had fallen off during his psychotic episode. Right after he had taken a cab fifty miles. Paid for with government money he pulled off of his government benefits card from New York. The same card I gave back to him because he was out of jail. He found that most of his money was still on his card after he retrieved it. He had food stamp benefits on it as well. He previously gave me permission to use the card and I did use it twice. I seemed to be gettign funny looks even though I had power of attorney. The card was barely readable adn would not scan very easily. My father failed to get his case transferred to the area's Family Independance Agency before he spent time in jail for imbesseling thousands of dollars from a construction company fifteen years ago. The police caught up with him finally after the construction company closed down. I listened closely on the phone and jotted down number after number to find out just where they placed my father. Apon calling the third long distance number I spoke with a person who told me to call back. Three or four days later after having called eleven times I finally blew up. For some ODD reason I could not get through to him even though he was there. I called the administrator's office and chewed him. Then I called the nurses station and chewed them. Then I hung up the phone, lay on my bed and wept. I wept because I could not contact my father.
An hour and a half later I calmed down. I got up with my head still aching, my tears dried down my cheeks and I went to the bathroom to wipe my face. I took some sudifed to clear my nostrils and then some aspirin. I went into the living room with the phone and turned on the televison. The soaps were on and I watched them with the phone in my hand. I warmed myself with a blanket over my body and sat there in disguist. I had to go to work that day and I didn't want to now. I felt like an ass.
It was no surprise to me that day my father went into to he mental hospital. He was found in Grand Rapids Michigan sitting next to a dumpster. Near a back alley with brick for pavement. It was the worst of the worst areas in town. Division street was filled full of hookers, jigalows, drug pushers and pimps. I knew by the words of the policeman I'd spoken to that it apeared my father had spent the night right there in his broken wheelchair. One of the wheels had fallen off during his psychotic episode. Right after he had taken a cab fifty miles. Paid for with government money he pulled off of his government benefits card from New York. The same card I gave back to him because he was out of jail. He found that most of his money was still on his card after he retrieved it. He had food stamp benefits on it as well. He previously gave me permission to use the card and I did use it twice. I seemed to be gettign funny looks even though I had power of attorney. The card was barely readable adn would not scan very easily. My father failed to get his case transferred to the area's Family Independance Agency before he spent time in jail for imbesseling thousands of dollars from a construction company fifteen years ago. The police caught up with him finally after the construction company closed down. I listened closely on the phone and jotted down number after number to find out just where they placed my father. Apon calling the third long distance number I spoke with a person who told me to call back. Three or four days later after having called eleven times I finally blew up. For some ODD reason I could not get through to him even though he was there. I called the administrator's office and chewed him. Then I called the nurses station and chewed them. Then I hung up the phone, lay on my bed and wept. I wept because I could not contact my father.
An hour and a half later I calmed down. I got up with my head still aching, my tears dried down my cheeks and I went to the bathroom to wipe my face. I took some sudifed to clear my nostrils and then some aspirin. I went into the living room with the phone and turned on the televison. The soaps were on and I watched them with the phone in my hand. I warmed myself with a blanket over my body and sat there in disguist. I had to go to work that day and I didn't want to now. I felt like an ass.