Please Know...

As I come to know these fine people, they share with me more of their personal and sensitive stories. Their collective story is what I am trying to share with you as my way of breaking the stereotypical beliefs that exist. "Blog names" have occasionally been given to me by the person whose story I am telling. Names are never their actual names and wherever I can do so, I might use the opposite pronoun (his/her, etc.) just to help increase their privacy.

Throughout this blog you are now seeing advertising. I need to provide this so as to keep going financially with this ministry. If you see something that is inappropriate to this site, please let me know - maybe get a screen shot of it for me. I do get credit for any "click" that you might make on any of the ads. If you're bored some night and want to help me raise some needed cash, visit my site and click away to your heart's content....


Monday, March 13, 2023

Money makes the world go round…

That song title is used for several different seemingly unrelated songs all with the same theme. Money does in fact make the world go round.


There's virtually nothing that is not increased or made better or bigger or bolder in the absence of an increased amount of money. 


You can have all the Faith in the world and ideas for ministry development and yet money will determine how large that ministry can become.


Money drives so much of our society, some might say all of society. There are too many examples to try to begin illustrating my point.


But here's one example that we should really be looking at and the primary purpose of this blog… 


90% of all the women on the streets of Kensington are reliant on prostitution, more commonly known on the street as 'doing a date', so as to raise the needed money to purchase the drugs that they need in the midst of their active drug addiction. Now hold that thought for a minute… 


70% of all the men on the streets of Kensington are 100% reliant on that 90% of women to financially support the purchase of their drugs for their drug addiction.


For the sake of easy math, let's say that the number of men and the number of women are equal on the streets of Kensington. That would mean that 80% of all of the money needed for the purchase of illegal drugs to support drug addiction on the streets of Kensington comes through prostitution.


We are forever hearing about the women being caught up in sting operations and being arrested for prostitution. Their need to raise money in this way is something they're not proud of as they are employed in the only mode of employment they can find to fund their substance use. Their substance use is a requirement of their drug addiction which is a medically recognized disease officially known as substance use disorder.


We arrest the patient in our current system of doing things but we do not arrest the ones hiring the women for the act of prostitution. If law enforcement would start to go after the men who are picking up the women, the flow of money would decrease and we might start to see an end or at least a slowing of the current situation.


So why are the men not arrested for engaging in prostitution with a patient suffering with substance use disorder? From one of the women, I heard of her frequent 'date', an attorney who is an employee of the city of Philadelphia. I've heard of other people in positions of authority in various ways who, with their position of authority, can sway the system in their favor and keep the men from being arrested. 


Let's look at this issue and start focusing on the ones providing the money to the patients who would rather not be patients at all in this deadly game of prostitution for money for drugs.


Money makes the world go round… 

Monday, February 20, 2023

It’s hard to believe that almost 6 and a half years have passed since I first started visiting the people on the streets of Kensington.

February 20 2023

Dear Friends,

It’s hard to believe that almost 6 and a half years have passed since I first started visiting the people on the streets of Kensington.  I’ve been writing about some, but certainly not all, of my experiences in this blog series.


As you would expect, there have been moments of great sorrow and, surprisingly enough, moments of incredible joy and laughter, and privilege.


For me to explain the moments of great sorrow in one letter would fall short of explaining reality as would sharing with you a photograph of a fallen tree to help you understand the destruction of a hurricane.


The moments of great joy, laughter, and privilege are the same and yet for this, I will provide a few examples.


Great joy can be found in realizing that a simple song sheet with encouraging words has saved the life of a reader when they were contemplating suicide.


Great joy is found when the financially poorest of the poor thank me with a gift or a card on a holiday or my birthday.


Great joy and privilege are found when a parent who I have never met reaches out to me in hopes that I know where their son or daughter may be.


Great joy and privilege come when speaking under oath in a Philadelphia courtroom to help the judge and lawyers for the prosecution and defense better understand the true nature of a particular human being, a patient with substance use disorder who, in that particular setting, is labeled as a ‘defendant.’


Great laughter can be found each time we visit.  The best example is ‘The Red Box” story as told by Sara.  You’ll need to visit with us someday to get the full effect of this funny moment as Sara embellishes this true story each time she tells it with more details that may or may not have actually happened.


During these six and a half years, I've learned so much about addiction and homelessness and yet there is so much more to understand. These human beings are not out on these streets by choice. They are out there courtesy of a disease that does not fit in any standard understanding of a disease process. A patient with this disease, formally known as substance use disorder, may have all the determination in the world to reclaim health. Far too often, however, the medical system at the Medicaid level does not provide a smooth, dignity, and respect-filled transition to any extent from illness to health. In the words of one person I know who is currently in this medical twilight zone in their attempts to be healed, 


“It's easier to keep using drugs than it is to find healing.”


During these 6 and 1/2 years, a small team has developed and visits with me on Wednesdays and Sundays. And for this, I am incredibly thankful.  Our efforts as a team meet great needs that I alone can not.  You know who you are…  Thanks for being a part of this! 🙂


There is so much more that we would like to do to serve this population of people who, by the way, are your literal neighbors regardless of where you're sitting and reading this letter. 


Your prayers and your donations of physical items such as clothing and first aid supplies and ‘Stevens Bags’ are very much appreciated as are your financial gifts which make necessary purchases possible.


As this ministry has grown, it has become more personal and private for some of the people I've come to know and love, and for the sake of confidentiality, not shared in any form.


The aspects of the ministry that you hear about on a regular basis revolve around street visits. The water and fruit, typically bananas, are what draw people to us as these items meet a physical need. 


The Christian song sheets and DHRL cards that we hand out are at the center of why we do what we do. Non-judgmental conversation and prayer when requested are very key elements as well.


These public aspects of the ministry and the more private efforts require a lot of prayer and time and energy and funding.


After 6 and 1/2 years, there's only one Church that financially supports these efforts on a monthly basis. I'm very appreciative of that church.


Other consistent financial contributors include a retired pastor, a mother (who I’ve never met) of a former resident of the street, and two other individuals - and that's it. Random donations do come in at times. While all of this is very much appreciated, it's not enough to keep this going. Since the beginning of 2021, I have personally financially gone in the hole by close to $3,000 in easily documentable receipts. This does not include my personal auto expenses which, for a round trip to Kensington is approximately 55 miles two to three times each week. Nor does it include any of my personal expenses such as meals while there.


I am looking for individuals and organizations such as churches to become more consistently financially involved in these efforts.  Would you consider becoming financially involved? Are you a representative of a church or other organization who would consider this?


These efforts currently are not within a 501c3. This seems to be of little concern to donors. If you are in an organization or have personal knowledge of how to become a 501c3, perhaps you could donate your services and help us make that transition.


In the meantime, I humbly and prayerfully ask for your consideration to support our efforts through your prayers and consistent funding. Thank you for considering this possibility.


Sincerely and respectfully submitted,


Chris


Chris Battin

610-368-2038

Funding Options Page



Saturday, January 28, 2023

Dead is dead!

A person who engages in a suicide attempt and fails is '302d', involuntary committed to receive psychological services.

A person who signs themselves out of a hospital and who has been told that they will not survive if they do so is not '302d' because they are considered to be of sound mind.

In the case of a substance use disorder, an officially recognized disease in the DSM-5, the mind of such a patient does not think clearly. Therefore, they are incapable of making totally rational decisions and yet they do not receive a 302. Too many end up dead.

Dead is dead regardless of how they got there!

When are changes going to be made?

Saturday, January 7, 2023

“We need your bed for real patients.” - One year later

January 7, 2023


One year ago tonight our world lost a Daughter, a Sister, a Mom, and all other manners of family relationships.  Our society lost a future lawyer and counselor. I lost a dear friend.  


I invite you to read her story, some of which we wrote together prior to her final days, by clicking here for the blog:


Absolutely Unacceptable.


In the weeks following her departure from our world, I started gathering stories from other folks who live on the streets of Kensington and have sought health care from local medical facilities. 


Here are their stories in their own words.


In my friend’s memory, I’ve tried to find medical and legal professionals who would like to look into these reports of mistreatment, neglect, and abuse and do something about it.  


No one is interested.


And so, from my humble seat in this nightmare, I keep doing what I do in hopes that someone in a position of authority will take this matter seriously.


In the meantime, my Friend, please know that we love you and miss you and long for that day when we will see you again on the eternal side of Eternity.




Tuesday, September 6, 2022

Pitchforks and Burning Lava to Drug Free Peer


At approximately the 53-second mark in this clip from the original Rocky, I was standing where the camera would have been sitting as I was talking for the first time ever with a new sense of calmness and decency and oneness with a young lady who, 5 years ago, had pitchforks and burning lava encasing her heart.
This young lady was filled with rage and disgust at the world in those years.

And yet not long ago she and I conversed as peers as she shared with me how she found healing and recovery from opioids. She was still there on the street for her own drug-independent reasons and drug-free from that which would otherwise kill her in a minute.

It's moments like this that I thank God for the privilege of serving and getting to know the people on the streets of Kensington.

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Contact me now, please.

You moved Home to Heaven 30 weeks ago last night. I'm in the anger stage of grief. That usually means that the survivor is angry with the loved one who has died.

I'll admit, there is some of that. I wish you had stopped doing what you were doing or at least slowed down what you were doing. I even told you that I was getting scared as I watched the pace at which you were advancing your efforts.
But I'm far angrier at the medical professionals who, once you had found your ready moment and submitted to professional care, had the audacity to tell you that they were discharging you from the emergency room in which you had been brought in by ambulance at your request because they needed your bed "for real patients". You died about 5 days later.

That's who I'm most angry at.

For the past 30 weeks, I've been hoping to find an attorney or two or more who would help the overall situation of barbaric treatment by medical professionals upon folks like yourself who were suffering from this horrendous disease of substance use disorder. And so far not a single attorney has been found.
There was one attorney who expressed some interest in coming up with a solution. His idea was to 302 for a minimum of 5 days anyone who overdosed and had been saved by Narcan. Unfortunately, that attorney was also the regular jawn of at least one woman on the street reliant on prostitution to fund her addiction. And so with those kinds of attorneys putting forth some artificial effort to end this nightmare, is it any wonder that we're not making any progress?
I'm looking for attorneys who will look at the legal aspects of this barbaric treatment of the human beings on the streets of Kensington who are being so grossly treated.

Are you one of those attorneys who would step forward? Are you an attorney who does not have the expertise for such a situation but knows of an attorney or attorneys who could help? I'm reaching out to you as well.
Let's end this nightmare just as much as it can possibly be ended.
Contact me now, please.
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Monday, August 1, 2022

See the dreams trapped inside the individual and do your part to release those dreams back into reality.

Who is this delightful individual with the tremendous smile and the seemingly always perky personality? I needed to know. All I knew about her was that she is from a suburban county not all that far from my own. We sat down at table 103 at the local McDonald's and she shared with me who she is when she's not trapped in her addiction and living homeless on the streets of Kensington.


The reality of her essence jumped out of her as she shared with me how she had been working toward her Bachelor of Science degree in nursing at a Main Line University. She went on to explain to me many of the pharmacology aspects of the illicit drugs and the healing drugs that are involved or would like to be involved in her world. In follow-up conversations since then, I asked her what type of nursing she would like to be involved in when she gets back into it. She didn't have to think long.


Neonatal intensive care…” was her response.


In the very few weeks since that lunch at McDonald's, she has told me that she knows that she's the only person getting in her way of getting to detox and yet she cannot bring herself to make that leap from the street. And so she tolerates for reasons that she can explain but can not fight the continuous need to do dates to provide funding for her drugs and to be held up at gunpoint when the guy who has just had her for his own purposes demands his money back.


The next time that any medical professional sees any man or woman coming into their care for substance use disorder related issues, they should look beyond whatever emaciation or self-inflicted injection injuries there may be and realize the individual in front of them may be a nurse in waiting or a professional counselor in waiting or a social worker in waiting or a neurosurgeon in waiting, etc etc etc. 


Look past the current situation in front of you, medical professional. See the dreams trapped inside the individual and do your part to release those dreams back into reality. 


Sunday, July 24, 2022

Found in Kensington saving a life so another family would not know loss...

One of my other adventures today in Kensington happened when a missing person from the group "Found in Kensington" came up to me and said she needed Narcan for a person about a block away. I gave her the narcan out of my back pocket and she took off and saved the person's life.

She came back to me maybe 15 minutes later. I asked her if she wanted to call her family and she said she's not quite ready but please let them know that she's ok and not actually lost.

The moral of this story I guess is that while our loved ones are lost to us in these frightening days, they're still out there often doing heroic things and saving the son or daughter of some other family who desperately wants their loved one to come home.

A BSN student misplaced on the streets of Kensington...

Among today's adventures in Kensington, I told a misplaced BSN student to not allow the BS that is going on in the addiction side of her brain to get in the way of the healing that will bring her back to her studies and career as a registered nurse with her bachelor of science degree.

This woman has a stunning knowledge of the pharmacology in her world. She can explain in amazing detail what goes on in the illicit drugs and the healing drugs which are currently in and wanting to be in her life.

She told me today that the only thing that is getting in her way right now is her own self.

And so do please pray that as Sunday turns into Monday morning, she will find her way to the office on Kensington Avenue excellently and sensitively led by Ramon Crespo . In so doing she will take the first step and go through the pain of detox and the rehab of rehabilitation and then eventually become reacquainted with her school books which will provide the education that will eventually bring her to her BSN.

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

An event in my recent past gave me flashbacks to my own childhood.

One of my loved ones who I met on the streets of Kensington decided to walk away from the care that they were receiving.   While his family and I did what we could to encourage him to stay and continue his care, he was absolutely determined to do otherwise. We did all that we knew to do and said all that we knew to say to convince him to stay and keep working toward renewed health. In the end, he walked away and has stayed away thus far.


As I was leaving the situation, I started reminiscing about my own childhood and the day I decided to run away from home when I was about five years of age. My home at that point in life with a 15-acre property, that of an Episcopal church with a very large parking lot. My dad was an Episcopal priest and my mom was a teacher specializing in private tutoring. 


I made it known that I was planning on running away from home. This was a storyline I had seen in a recent TV show and I related to it for some weird childhood reason. I told my parents what I was doing and they spoke to me briefly and said that since I wasn't happy I could do so. I packed my bag and walked down the sidewalk and into the parking lot. I remember looking back and waiting for them to come running after me. No one did. 


I sat at the far end of the parking lot for a little while hoping that someone would come out and get me. After some amount of time, I walked back to the house and continued on with my day back with my family.


As I compared these two storylines, I started wondering if the better approach to take when someone in the throes of addiction demanding to be fed should just be allowed to leave and not put up any fight at all. The difference, of course, is that the addiction demanding to be fed could easily kill the person whose rational side of thinking would actually prefer to be healed even though the addiction is screaming louder at that moment.


The little child choosing to run away from home typically doesn't go very far. They walk down the sidewalk, sit for a bit and come home.  The person in addiction running away from their healing may or may not ever come home and that's frightening.


Loved ones of the person running away from their healing are put in a terrible bind. If they simply let their loved one walk away without putting up any debate or argument and their loved one dies, they are left wondering what more they should have done. If they debate or argue too much to encourage them to stay and their loved one still leaves and dies, they're left wondering if they debated and argued the point too much. The Civil War that goes on in the mind of the addicted person in this sense ends up being transferred to the loved one and the loved one ends up having a Civil War in their own mind of what they should or should not have done. It’s a really tough place in which loved ones often find themselves… 

“Thank you.”

A few days ago I dropped off one of my empty banana crates on a street corner where a bunch of my loved ones live. These banana crates are very solid cardboard boxes. I came back the next day and it had been filled with trash from a particular local man's sweeping of the street.

After my visit on this next day, I had another banana crate that I really did not want to bring home with me. I saw the man across the street and I asked him if he would like me to leave this empty banana crate for him to fill with local street trash. He said that would be fine. And then he said something really interesting. He actually said…


“Thank you.”


Now, what's so usual about that? I was doing something that was beneficial to his perspective on what was going on. Why wouldn't he say “Thank you.”? That particular expression of appreciation really dug into my soul because this man is the corner drug dealer.


The corner drug dealer was appreciative of my humble kindness toward his cleaning efforts. Keep in mind that I don't like what he's doing as his income but I did appreciate the fact that he was keeping the streets clean.


The drug dealer said, “Thank you.”


And this really got me thinking. 


When's the last time anyone else in a position of some sort of authority over me demonstrated appreciation? 


A demonstration of appreciation through a simple “Thank you.” keeps people going and it is sorely lacking in our culture these days.


If you are in a position of authority over people in any way shape or form, I would highly encourage you to demonstrate appreciation for their efforts. It's amazing how many more miles you will get out of a person whether that person is a friend or an employee or what-have-you. 


Demonstrate some appreciation and see how much better your interaction with that person becomes.


Friday, July 8, 2022

To Better Understand...

For those of us who are on the outside of addiction and looking in trying to better understand what it's all about, I have a few suggestions.

To better understand the nursing aspects of addiction, you could speak to an RN or a student nearing graduation with a nursing degree. They can explain to you much of the discomfort that is associated with the healing process, especially in the early stages thereof.


If you're interested in having a better understanding of what goes on in the brain, you could speak to a neurologist or a neurosurgeon, or a student advanced in their studies. This person could give you a reasonably clear understanding of what the patient’s brain is doing and how it's been damaged by the drug use and how it tricks the person into thinking one thing when reality is actually something else.


If you're wondering what addiction does to one's spirit, you could speak to a pastoral person of whatever spiritual persuasion is best for you. This person could give you a better understanding of the battle between the disease and the spirit.


If you're wondering how addiction affects the person on the social level and within the family, you could sit down with a social worker and learn about that aspect of this.


If you are wondering how addiction affects the person from a legal perspective, you could sit down with an attorney or a police officer and ask related questions. 


And here's the kicker to all of these suggestions…


You don't need to sit down with a currently working RN or neurologist or neurosurgeon or pastoral person or social worker or attorney or police officer. You can find several of each on the streets of Kensington and ask them about their professional insights as they live within the nightmare of the topic.


Their professional credentials may have been stripped from them due to their disease but they still have their professional insights.


I've had this privilege many times over almost 6 years. I've listened as these professionals explain their own addiction from their professional perspective and how much they despise the situation they're in. 


As our conversations conclude, each one goes back to doing what their disease tells them they must do. Some will go to their preferred street corner to be picked up by some random guy. Others will make their way to that store where they can easily steal something to sell on the streets. Others yet will stand in the street and ‘panhandle’ to raise funds.  Each of these persons will then buy the drugs that their body demands, and inject or otherwise consume them quickly.


It is not likely to be their professionalism that will help them find their way out of their personal nightmare.  That will only come when they choose to surrender to the healing process and claim victory over their disease. 


It is their professionalism that will give you insights into their situation of street-bound addiction like you have never had before. 



Tuesday, May 31, 2022

When God tells you to buy a Kit Kat bar, you should listen...

C. was one of the people I met the very first time I visited the people on the streets of Kensington. 5 1/2 years later, she's still out there doing her thing.

Kit Kat bars are her favorite of all candies. As I was pulling into Kensington today, I stopped at the Rite Aid on Aramingo Avenue to pick up a couple of things for myself. That still small voice told me to buy a Kit Kat bar because I would see C. on my way to church. I wrote it off as a silly thought, bought my stuff, and hopped in my car.

I drove down Kensington Avenue and there she was. I saw C. for the first time in quite some time. We chatted briefly. She said she needed a ride four blocks north and so she hopped in. During the ride, I told her how God told me to buy a Kit Kat bar for her and I didn't listen and now I was regretting it.

She gave her typical lite laugh and said something about the importance of listening to God.

It's funny how some of the most important lessons in Christian Life - that of actually listening to God when God speaks - can be had while cruising down Kensington Avenue.

Monday, May 30, 2022

An event in my recent past gave me flashbacks to my own childhood.

One of my loved ones who I met on the streets of Kensington decided to walk away from the care that they were receiving.   While his family and I did what we could to encourage him to stay and continue his care, he was absolutely determined to do otherwise. We did all that we knew to do and said all that we knew to say to convince him to stay and keep working toward renewed health. In the end, he walked away.

As I was leaving the situation, I started reminiscing about my own childhood and the day I decided to run away from home when I was about five years of age. My home at that point in life was a 15-acre property, that of an Episcopal church with a large parking lot. My dad was an Episcopal priest and my mom was a teacher specializing in private tutoring. 

I made it known that I was planning on running away from home. This was a storyline I had seen in a recent TV show and I related to it for some weird childhood reason. I told my parents what I was doing. They spoke to me briefly and said that since I wasn't happy I could do so. I packed my bag and walked down the sidewalk and into the parking lot. I remember looking back and waiting for them to come running after me.

No one did. 

I sat at the far end of the parking lot for a little while hoping that someone would come out and get me. After some amount of time, I walked back to the house and continued on with my day back with my family.

**********

As I compared these two storylines, I started wondering if the better approach to take when someone in the throes of addiction demanding to be fed should just be allowed to leave and not put up any fight at all. The difference, of course, is that the addiction demanding to be fed could easily kill the person whose rational side of thinking would actually prefer to be healed even though the addiction side of thinking is screaming louder at that moment.

The little child choosing to run away from home typically doesn't go far. They walk down the sidewalk, sit for a bit and come home.  The person in addiction running away from their healing may or may not ever come home and that's frightening.

Loved ones of the person running away from their healing are put in a terrible bind. If they simply let their loved one walk away without putting up any debate or argument and their loved one dies, they are left wondering what more they should have done. If they debate or argue to encourage them to stay and their loved one still leaves and dies, they're left wondering if they debated and argued the point too much.

The Civil War that goes on in the mind of the addicted person in this sense ends up being shared or transferred to the loved one. The loved one ends up having a Civil War in their own mind about what they should or should not have done. It’s a really tough place in which loved ones often find themselves… 

**********

Join the conversation:

I've created this anonymous survey for you to share your thoughts on this topic…

Sunday, May 22, 2022

I handed Jawn the card...

It's now Sunday evening. On Saturday morning I woke up with the very clear image of providing ministry handout cards to a certain man who is there far more than I am as he is picking up young ladies for his own sexual purposes. 

Regardless of the time of day that I am there doing my thing, he is there doing his thing.

I don't mean to be rude but this individual is truly disgusting to look at. The very thought of a young lady having to be sexual with him so as to gain funding for an addiction she would rather not have turns my stomach to the point of absolute nausea.

And yet, this past Saturday morning I had an image of sharing cards with him to hand out to the young ladies when they get in his car being that he is there actually far more than am I.

On one side of these cards is the statement,

I am an inspiration on human being. I am in made in the image of God. I am worthy of dignity and honor and respect and love.

As I was visiting on Saturday, this man pulled up on the opposite side of Kensington Avenue.  Very quickly one of the ladies who I've come to know got into his car. She was noticeably high from her drug use. He made a u-turn on Kensington Avenue and pulled over right next to where I was parked as I was doing my thing.  That in itself was a very unusual thing to happen. He and I have never actually spoken. 

He opened the passenger window and asked if the two of them could have two bananas and two bottles of water. I simply stated to him in a matter of fact kind of way that I could give her one banana and one bottle of water. He seemed content with that as she was almost unconscious in the passenger front seat.

I then told him that I had something for him to give to her when she woke up from her high. I handed him a few cards that stated as referenced above. With a weird sort of smile on his face he took them and said that he would read one to her.  And off he drove.

I did not see him today. This is the first day in weeks that I did not see him. Did he read the card and suddenly feel guilty? I sort of doubt that. But I did not see him today.

Maybe, just maybe, those words which he read in reference to the woman he was about to use for his own sexual purposes, may have touched his heart. I don't know. I guess in the days and weeks that follow, I will have a better understanding of what he felt from that.

This is one of many examples of profound ministry experiences that I have had on the streets of Kensington.  I wouldn't trade this for anything. 


Sunday, May 15, 2022

I opened the casket lid hoping to find her still alive and I did.

This is the nature of substance use disorder on the streets of Kensington among the people who are currently homeless.

She had been held up at gunpoint at the end of a 'date' earlier in the day. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to explain the total disgust that she feels for herself and her life on the streets of Kensington.

All of her family is not in touch with her due to death or incarceration or in choosing to look down on her as something not worth considering. She feels totally alone and she told me so quite clearly a matter of just a few hours ago.

A medical condition secondary to her drug use is consuming her body and she knows she needs immediate and probable inpatient care. I told her that I would take her to a certain hospital that is showing itself to be better than the others these days. But first, she had to go do her "get well" so as to be prepared for the hours ahead. And that was the end of her journey to actually getting well.

She did her drugs which one side of her brain demands she does in preparation for the other side of the brain fulfilling its task of seeking and receiving care. She crawled into the back seat of a car that belongs to a friend of hers. After a reasonable amount of time, I along with one other person from the streets gingerly opened the door of the car (which felt like we were opening a potential casket lid) to make sure our loved one was okay. And she was. She was breathing and that's all that counts in such a situation. We let her sleep.

Before you think that this young lady is something less than you because she's an "addict" who raises money as a prostitute, I do want you to know this. Her family home is within the rolling high society hills of Chester County. She is a good and fine and decent and wonderful woman who desperately wants out of this God-forsaken literal hell in which she spends her days.

I opened the casket hoping to find her still alive and I did.

Thursday, May 12, 2022

An overlooked aspect of harm reduction is to pre-arrange the transfer of homeless former inmates to an awaiting rehab, shelter, or subsidized housing.

Michael has been living on the streets of Kensington for several years.  He “boosts’ (shoplifts) to raise some of the funds that he needs for his drug addiction.  He’s actually far more reliant on his street girlfriend’s doing of dates to support his habit as she funds her own addiction. 


About three months ago, Michael was caught shoplifting and taken to the local jail.  It was also discovered that he had outstanding warrants for missing his probation appointments.  


As part of the intake process, he listed his home address as ‘homeless.’

Over the next three months, as he unintentionally detoxed and had time away from his drug use, a seed of rational thinking took root.  By the time he was discharged from jail, he had decided that he was done with drug use.  He had gained much of his physical health and was beaming with a new sense of life, the likes of which he’d not known in years.

It was on a Sunday that I saw Michael for the first time in those three months.  He explained how very done he was with his past lifestyle.  

He added a powerful exclamation point to his statements: 

“Jail was actually a blessing in disguise!”

I asked him why he was there, on the street, when he said that he was done with it all.

“I was discharged from jail on Friday night.  I hope to meet with the housing folks on Monday to get into a shelter or start looking for an apartment.”

In the meantime, for those approximate 72 hours, at least to some degree, he’s reliant on boosting and his girlfriend’s dates just to supply his basic food needs.

I saw him again this past Wednesday.  He was still living on the street, boosting a bit and relying on her as his primary source of income.  I asked how he was doing with staying away from his drug use…

“I’m dabbling a bit with it.”

**********

Michaela has been living on the streets of Kensington for several years.  She does dates to raise most of the funds that she needs for her drug addiction and for a large part of her street boyfriend’s addiction.  

About three months ago, Michaela was caught in a prostitution ‘sting operation’ and taken to the local jail.  It was also discovered that she had outstanding warrants for missing her probation appointments.  

As part of the intake process, she listed her home address as ‘homeless.’

Over the next three months, as she unintentionally detoxed and had time away from her drug use, a seed of rational thinking took root.  By the time she was discharged from jail, she had decided that she was done with drug use.  She had gained much of her physical health and was beaming with a new sense of life, the likes of which she’d not known in years.

It was on a Sunday that I saw Michaela for the first time in those three months.  She explained how very done she was with her past lifestyle.  

She added a powerful exclamation point to her statements: 

“Jail was actually a blessing in disguise!”

I asked her why she was there, on the street, when she said that she was done with it all.

“I was discharged from jail on Friday night.  I hope to meet with the housing folks on Monday to get into a shelter or start looking for an apartment.”

In the meantime, for those approximate 72 hours, at least to some degree, she’s reliant on doing dates just to supply her basic food needs and very possibly for the drug needs of her street boyfriend.

I saw Michaela again this past Wednesday.  She was still living on the street and doing dates for basic income. I asked how she was doing with staying away from her drug use…

“I’m dabbling a bit with it.”

**********

Michael and Michaela both experienced the growth of a seed of rational thinking that could have grown into a strong plant and led them to a new life. 

During those three months of incarceration, nothing had been done in regard to housing in preparation for their discharge.

And so the cycle of recidivism comes back to square one.  In fact, having been opioid-free for those 12 weeks, both are at higher risk of overdose and death since their bodies have reset to having no tolerance to these substances.

**********

In a very real way, those 12 weeks of jail time were equivalent to 12 weeks of hospital admission time.  Each patient entered fully addicted and left non-addicted.  

It’s not at all unusual for a hospitalized patient to be transferred to an extended care facility prior to going home.  This transfer process to an extended care facility is prepared for even as the person is in their active healing mode.

For both Michael and Michaela, it was a known fact that their home was in a state of homelessness.  How much better off would they be if their equivalent of extended care - shelter or subsidized housing or better yet, rehab - had been worked out prior to their discharge from jail?

While none of this can produce guaranteed results:

There would have been no more boosting and dating.

There would have been no more chance of overdosing.

There would have been the potential for eventual reunification with family and re-establishment of a healthy life.

There would have been the re-entering of two people into the workforce, contributing to society, paying taxes and so much more.

An overlooked aspect of harm reduction is to pre-arrange the transfer of homeless former inmates to an awaiting rehab, shelter, or subsidized housing.