Friday, November 13, 2009

THE HAUNT OF YESTERDAY, FILED

FILED and FORGOTTEN The Haunt of Yesterday

Apology: We have had medical problems in the family that caused a delay in this posting.

I wrote previously about the stigma of mental illness that still haunts us even in Halloween celebrations. Some things just won’t go away. Try, however we must, the care of mental patients long past haunts us and try as we will, flashbacks creep into today’s society

In this and future postings we want to take the discussion of being Filed and Forgotten to more specifics. The indication was that the blog would be based on my father’s mental illness, my disability, and patient care of any kind today. We spoke about the first two and now we move to the third guiding thought of our sharing our experiences and ideas on health care. The discussion goes far beyond the public, political, partisan, and self-centered approaches of today’s debate. In fact we will be focusing on one word that has already been highlighted as essential, that is, CARING.

The plan for the next three postings remind us of that important issue of caring in health delivery by traveling again the road of mental illness and disability at a different speed and with new sights. In all honesty, these postings have a mind of their own and just may not always follow my intended scheduling. The third one will bring us back closer home and talk about caring as it relates to those in our sight at work, in the community, at church, and our neighborhood. Even then we will have only touched on the subject that could and does require volumes as we noted from the “hits” that search engines produce. We can add caring to the previous searches on mental health and disability and we come up with 50,700,000 hits just on the word “caring” alone. Looking ahead even farther, postings will deal with caring in education, in women issues, in family life, in rural life, and in community life; all subjects written about in FOR PETE’S SAKE. Actually, the blog probably won't stop there. Time will tell.

So for today, we are going back to my father’s story about caring as patients were treated during the last half of the 20th Century. You may remember that he was confined to a state hospital for twenty-eight years, and nineteen more in two nursing homes. My comments are based on his actual medical record for those years. Few records covering that length of time on one patient exist. What nurses wrote and what doctors said and what either did is there in back and white. However, my remarks now are commentary and are an honest attempt to understand the relationship between my father and those involved in his care. Where I may be wrong, I am sorry, yet the reader would find it hard to disagree with some issues that I want to highlight out of those 47 years. This is a different approach to health care than we are hearing in the media today. I will be insisting that caring relationships makes for healing as in no other way. While this in no way diminishes technology, it does not stand alone in good care of a patient.

A quote from Ralph Barton Perry (1876-1957), a voice from yesterday wrote some haunting words to this uncaring America so wrapped up within ourselves that we care not for our neighbor. “Humanitarianism needs no apology…Unless we feel it toward all men without exception, we shall have lost the chief redeeming force in human history.”

We can substitute the word caring for humanitarianism. In my “Letter to Dad” that precedes Chapter Five, “Woodmere to Woodlawn,” the chapter that contains my critique of his care, I wrote to him posthumously, “We now know more about your relationship to those who attended your needs and treatment. Generally speaking, we know now that you had good care, and that is a relief to know.” Through earlier years I had heard of the horror stories of such institutions and the book was begun wondering if he experienced anything like that of earlier days. After looking at the record for a while I concluded he was not tortured in the sense of centuries before. So the “Letter” was written as an afterthought grateful that he was treated as well as he was. The chapter does critique the medical experiments that were common, however, what needs to be said here focuses on the relationship hints picked up from the telling of his story. That is to ask, was he “cared for, cared about” on a human level and not just housed, fed, and given various treatments?

This writer prefers in this blog to place the spotlight on the relationships for it is out of these illustrations in this chapter that we think of him primarily as Filed and Forgotten, locked up and the key thrown away, so to speak. However, there were incidents of real caring and some not so good as we review now the good and not so good, or bad, relationships between the staff and my Dad. Woodmere, the Evansville State Hospital was located in large woods where in good weather patients could wander around and enjoy the quietness and inspiration of nature. One social worker recorded some of her visits with Dad when he was in the mood to converse, which was not often.

Being a caring professional she would take the opportunity to connect with his world and help him connect to the one around him. The outdoors country guy probably talked about the kind of trees, birds, or even the grass under his feet. I bet it was Kentucky Blue Grass. The social worker could have just stood around like a guard or as another attendant, doing her own observations of nature and been completely disconnected from that man who sat there on the bench, her charge for the afternoon. How often do we see even a stranger, obviously mentally troubled, walk by, and do not say “Hello” or nod and affirm their presence with a smile. Well, not all the social workers were like this one as we will see later.

The question of caring or not caring often was related to institutional needs and regimens. Let’s see, how would you like to take your bath at 3 am so that the shift of nurses could get all their assignments done before going home. What if you had a life long addiction to tobacco, in this case chewing tobacco, and having it not given to you because you were messy and got tobacco juice on the bed, on your clothes, or on the floor. Sure institutionally, someone had extra work allowing him his bad habit. Some caring aids cleaned it up with a joke to get him to smile.

Others harassed him about it. In one case he was given some tests to see if he could tolerate a medication that would make him more submissive, less aggressive when he was deprived of his tobacco. One would wonder if some of those involved, I happened to know one was a chain smoker, gave a second thought to her inconsistency requiring something of a mental patient that she could and would not apply to herself. Caring personnel think of doing unto others as they would have done to them. The best part of caring personnel is revealed later when a nurse discovered that he was messing up the floor, missing the spittoon, because he was going blind from cataracts. How easy to criticize anyone when, we “are not walking in their shoes.” Caring personnel go beyond the immediate situation and look for solutions.

Two different nurses or attendants responded completely opposite to Dad. Their recordings in the nurses’ charts were very revealing. One had nothing consistently to say except negative terms, humanly degrading terms, of his behavior while the other used very positive expressions, both reporting under exactly the same circumstances. In other words he was cooperative with one and rebellious and insubordinate with the other. One was a person who expected you to take her orders and the other was a caring person who worked with him kindly and got the job done. Now where was the problem, the patient or the nurse? One was the sergeant and uncaring, the other was one whose focus was on her patient and not on herself. It would be interesting to listen in on a conversation between the two on any other subject, and note that one consistently used crude language while the other was more refined. Maybe that is a test for who should be hired to do the job in the first place.

One social worker gave a scathing report of “his uncaring family” who did not respond to his needs. She never called about anything. She never wrote a note to my mother who always supplied canteen money and clothes out of her meager income (Later read about my mother’s devotion and determination when we write about women issues) Another individual who did not do the right and caring thing was the one who wrote in the record that she could not stand his smelly old sweater. She wrote other derogatory statements about him. A caring person would have had several options such as the fact that some people have a perspiration problem that often has a physical basis. She also could have sent it to the laundry at night. She could have sent us a message of the problem and a new one would have been provided. Or, oh my, she could have taken it home and washed it! This was one of the personnel who worked for a paycheck, waiting for Friday to come.

We could give many more illustrations of how personnel could have been more caring. There is so much more. A doctor sits down with you and shares about three sentences, “Now let see, who are you here to inquire about. Just minute,” as he looks at some record, and remarks, “Oh, he is doing fine. Is that all, See you next time.” Caring doctors respect your lack of understanding the system, your anxiety about your loved one, and indicates by his or her behavior that he is in charge, he is the expert, and just trust him. His job could have been a patronage job. Another doctor submits to the nurse’s request about the tobacco as mentioned above, and after a negative tests report took weeks before taking him off the medication..

Let’s look at one more thing about the importance of patient and personnel relationships as they relate to patients with mental disorders. By state edict he was transferred from the state institution to an ill-equipped nursing home to care for mental patients, he surprised us all and was a much more cooperative and likeable patient for his next nineteen years. Why? Certainly, we could find many examples of non-caring personnel at the nursing homes. In fact some of the illustrations are above. Why? Same medication, similar routine, both had the countryside and woods he loved. One thing we think made the difference and it was, generally speaking, the attitude of the daily personnel who met his needs. These were not professional mental health workers so trained for the job. They were caring, loving people, who loved their job and who indicated that by the way they treated their patients. He mentally had blocked out the twenty-eight years at Evansville and at birthday time each year hence, he said he was 28 years younger. Do caring people make a difference? There is no other reason, medication, or whatnot, that made the difference. For the record there can be mental health professionals who really care from the heart.

Those days of being Filed and Forgotten, 1948-1995 are haunting days. This writer so describes them with that description for a simple, scary, reason. History continues to repeat itself when it comes to health delivery being operated without little regard to patient and personnel relationship being a viable rewarding focus. While technology has advanced, our ability and practice of treating patients as human beings and not objects still haunts us. Read the next blog and discover what I think the common denominators for good or ill may be.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

CARING FOR THE FILED AND FORGOTTEN

Caring about the Filed and Forgotten

My father’s 47 year confinement with mental illness related in FOR PETE’S SAKE, http://www.mentalhealthforpetessake.com augmented by mental health issues that we found in our everyday family story, was a turning point in my life that caused me to think seriously about those in life who were troubled. When I made my application to Taylor University in 1947, I was asked the question of why I wanted to advance in education. My simple and unsophisticated answer then and now remains, ”I wanted to help people.”

Much more thought has gone into that question since but it was enough then to lead me on into the ministry. At that point I certainly had no idea what helping people involved except to bring them to Christ. Then I would have used the language of my little country church and responded that caring was about bringing salvation to others, meaning assisting them to receive Jesus as Lord. All those years of Dad’s (Pete’s) confinement I cared about the mentally ill because it had come home to our family. From that experience I began to think more about helping people find Christ, not that I had been wrong, just short on understanding.

Bishop Michael Coyner, resident bishop of the new Indiana Conference wrote today, October 13, 2009, through our Hoosier communications, eHUM, of the missing word in all the discussion about health care. It is salvation, he writes. He says it better than I. Let's quote a brief section from his article because his comment brings the article above about Dad together with article two about me, and article three about receiving personal health care that comes later in another blog. We need to understand something of caring before we get to caring or other help that could well be called “salvation” as does Bishop Coyner.

The Bishop writes: “Salvation” in the Bible is not just about being saved from sin for eternal life. That is the ultimate sense of “salvation” of course, but the Bible and the teachings of Jesus focus upon “salvation” in terms of wholeness of mind, body, and spirit. Our wholeness is not just a medical issue, it is an issue about the totality of our life. Salvation is about bodily health, spiritual wellness, and mental balance. Salvation is about more than just our individual wellness, it is about the health and well-being of the human family and about living in community with one another and with God.” The Filed and Forgotten need this sense of community from another caring human being.

While on my years of disability my concept of caring was broadened, not just regarding my Dad, but for all those with any form of mental disorder. After writing the book and becoming enabled physically to promote it, there were book signings, seminars, the website, and over 5 years of having a booth at the ten day Covered Bridge Festival each October at Bridgeton, in Parke County Indiana. I have mentioned this before but a repetition is necessary as we begin to see a broader picture of caring for those sick either in body, mind, or spirit. The people no matter their problem stopped by for a chat, but especially those who were mentally ill or had loved ones with some disorder. That experience over the years broadened my concept of caring about those who were broken in body, mind, or spirit.

As was said, more will come about experiences that people endure from medical personnel who don’t practice the meaning of the word “caring” and certainly would have trouble understanding the broader concept of “salvation”of which Bishop Coyner spoke. It was during the writing of Dad’s book, thinking of mental health issues from searching for our ancestry to the lessons of Dad's legacy, and experiencing my own disability that the idea of persons set aside for whatever reason from the mainstream, “Filed and Forgotten” became a theme I could not escape. Not only from a historical point of my experiences, but the whole idea of caring and the salvation of body, mind, and spirit struck a note that surely fits into some melody of hope and recovery for those outside and inside our usual church circles and other organizational circles. Blogging became an idea that maybe would attract people to reach out in a caring fashion to all those needing a lift of some sort.

Those needing an outstretched hand that I refer to in my blogs are not the masses attended so well by our Global Ministries, but individuals who are in our churches, a neighbor down the street, someone who is within our local environs or you know about who suffer some form of disability that takes on a number of expressions and implications. We will be writing more about who these people are later on and hinting at how we can help. The hinting begins with caring about those who need Coyner’s description of salvation. A task for ordinary Christians and caring, helpful people.

What is caring? It is about as difficult to analyze or describe as love. First of all, it certainly is a word misused just as much and can be interpreted to mean a great variety of experiences, moods, or actions. ”Caring” has great selling attributes. Merchants care about you. Hospitals care about you. Car dealers care about you. Anyone who wants to sell you something uses the word so freely, meaning they care for a sale, not necessarily you personally. We have the debate of the century about health care. Care can be using the latest technology to determine a diagnosis. Educational institutions care to admit certain kind of students, or in some cases any student.

Some of the above is hard to quibble about. However, to move on to another organization that flashes the qualification to treat your ailment does raise our eyebrows, or it should. That is the church. Obviously the tone of these blogs indicates this writer thinks while we do a great ministry, we have a way to go to live up to the caring spirit of Jesus. Let’s take our motto, for instance. Open what? Minds, hearts, and doors? Sounds nice, but when we don’t honestly care then the doors are not open to some people, some are not welcome. We have chosen to build new churches and to help the poor. Are the new churches for the poor?

Back to my position, we have people in our churches that are ill for weeks and see no one from the church. It is too often the same with other organizations. We have elderly members who have given their life for the church and when incapacitated either at home or in a nursing home receive no ministry except a request for money. Is that caring? What about our veterans? They lie on their beds and wonder what happened to their friends. Such people, and there is a much longer list, wonders about the support of their used to be friends. We are not a caring example to the nonchurched. We can double our attendance with ministry to those who are next door.

What does caring involve? By not demonstrating our caring from the heart instilled by our Master, we are saying that the person is no longer important or useful. Many losing jobs or those placed on disability certainly entertain those thoughts since our culture places value on what we get done. The church’s silence and inaction in these and other cases say to that precious child of God that they don’t count anymore. When we say, “Well, I don’t care about this or that,” we devalue the object of our conversation, whether the poor, the person in the nursing home, the person who isn’t showing up church, the drug addict, or whomever has been marginalized. Someone close by in your neighborhood needs your caring heart and hands.
With so much unsaid, some of which can be found in earlier blogs or those yet to come, we conclude this one by these closing comments. Genuine caring about others may be an instinct or learned, but a challenge and saving act for self and for others; a necessary ingredient in a sane society, and the last word in faithful ministry abroad or next door.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Mental Health Awareness Week: STIGMA

STIGMA OF PATIENTS DISABLED WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

This week is Mental Illness Awareness Week sponsored by NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness. (http://www.nami.org/template.cfm?section=fight_stigma) This weeks stigma story comes from New Monic Books, an educational publishing company, otherwise helpful for SAT preparation for people with learning disabilities as giving a sample sentence provided for the word “asinine.”
New Monic Books is an educational publishing company. Its paperback Vocabulary Cartoons II (2007 edition) is helpful for SAT preparation, as well as people with learning disabilities. However, one StigmaBuster reports that on page 41, the sample sentence provided for the word "asinine" "My sister gave up working in a mental hospital because she could no longer deal with ASININE behavior” Asinine, extremely foolish, does not apply to people who are ill. It is hopeful that readers will watch their language!
Asinine means "extremely foolish." It's not an appropriate word to apply to people who are ill. We don't believe the company intended to offend, but please politely let them know the impact the sample sentence may have in shaping attitudes of students and reinforcing stigma. Send a note to info@vocabularycartoons.com suggesting the following points.
Please remove the sample sentence in the book
You probably didn't mean to offend, but please don't trivialize any medical illness.
Please don't stereotype. Don't mock the behavior of people who are sick through no fault of their own.
Now please let me tell you of my experience with stigma related to patients with mental disorders. My father spent 16 years at MacaNell Nursing Home in Clay County, Indiana. It is now closing as a nursing facility and privately owned. It is a century or so old three story brick with basement building built as a county home. The basement is made up of several brick jail cells with iron gates. In the early 1900s patients were housed there that could not be otherwise controlled. Now the new owners make money for a charity, the end justifies the means, by making the building a haunted house, including “patients acting out”, all for the sake of a dollar and entertainment.
Here’s my story of my attendance there during Halloween At McCann Manor, http://nightatthemanor.com/manor/?page_id=17.
On October 30, 2007 I heard a segment on the local TV advertising a haunted house event. It caught my attention because the location would be at the former nursing home where my father Pete lived for about 16 years following his stay at the Evansville State Hospital.
\My interest was piqued further as they showed cells in which mental patients had been confined for a number of years previous to my father's staying there in this former county home. I had been on each of the three floors of the institution but was not aware of these cells in the basement nor their history. Cells were shown on TV with someone acting obviously mentally disturbed. Since haunted houses often include such displays of the mentally ill, I was on my way in a matter of minutes to travel about 35 miles to the location.
At the entrance to the event, I paid my $8 for admission for what was to be, I was told, about a twenty minute tour of the facilities. As I walked across the yard where my father had often strolled, I naturally thought of him. A few people were waiting their turn to enter at the old main entrance of which I was familiar.
\A young mother said she was back for a second night to bring another youth. I asked what special interest brought her back. She commented that it was educational. Just maybe it could be on educational tours sponsored by mental health organization.. I pursued the question further and she soon withdrew that description when I commented that portraying mentally ill people for entertainment purposes was hardly educational. Actually, it was educational to me in another way since I soon encountered once again the public's attitudes toward mentally ill persons.
Sure enough the cells were occupied by "mental patients" who variously portrayed the actions of patients whom I had seen at Central State Hospital and at Evansville State Hospital in Indiana. Two of those were asked b y me if they were mentally ill or knew of someone who was. Another was asked why he wore chains, or another why he was flashing a butcher knife. These people unwittingly promulgating stigma were four of a dozen or so with whom I spoke.
One young lad about 14 years old, not in costume late in the tour, took me by the arm late in the tour and kindly asked if I was OK. "Oh, yes, thank you, why do you ask?" I responded. He said he was told I was “disturbed” and just wanted to make sure I was alright. Briefly, I explained why that appeared to be and culminating the brief conversation, I told him I hoped he understood and would not participate next year. Similarly, I suggested to another young man who led me out a different door so I would not be going down the fire escape chute that he also would give a second thought about such activity. Mobility problems prevented me from sliding down the chute.
Another highly advertised haunted house in our locale was presented as a shadow aslyum. Without forethought participants in such events are unaware of the statistic that one in five will be needing mental treatment in their lifetime. Mental patients need respect and our caring support rather than be used for entertainment, or even to raise money for otherwise good causes.
Except for my dad, Pete, I might be one of them who do not understand. Chapter Five, Woodmere to Woodlawn, in FOR PETE'S SAKE, critiques the medical treatment my father experienced at this nursing home and two other locations.
Another link: http://www.nami.org/template.cfm?section=fight_stigma
One can go to a mental health meeting like the annual meeting coming up here next week, and yet fail to at least smile at a patient in the store, or tell jokes about ole Joe down the street who is mentally ill.
Thank you on behalf of my father’s memory and the welfare of patients today who need caring support as well as lawful protection and pharmaceutical or psychiatric assistance.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Personal Reflection on Disability

Blog 102


Disability is another component of my interests. "Google" again and you find the term listed 55,700.000 times. That term brings me to my second interest, or both are of the same genre, personal caring. The commonality is found not only in how the disabled are perceived by the public, or what agency or authority has responsibility. The topic for me in this blog takes on a very personal light because I experienced it.
Again we find many institutions, organizations, and programs whose primary purposes are to aid these persons. They make sure we have ramps, for an example.
Yet disability, like mental illness, is too broad a term and dealt with by such rules and designations that many fall between the cracks. What is said and done according to the appropriate “billboard” awareness effort in publications and other media do not reach Jim and Sue within your block or neighborhood, whether we are talking mental illness or some other form of disability.
This second interest came home to me when I spent years on disability, experienced remission, and now labeled as disabled again. The social security check nor the church disability check the first time around did not diminish such things as feeling not needed any more, lonely, isolated, that is being ”Filed and Forgotten.” My own Pension agency sent the check and then knowing so little about the type of disability, sent me brochures about all kinds of world travel opportunities. Obviously an editor in Chicago who knew nothing about a disabled minister in Terre Haute. A neighbor did much better by sharing her vacation magazines and telling me in detail what it was like to visit Aruba. That kind of talk about travel didn't
"hurt" but helped to pass the time in a pleasant way.
Again like in Dad’s story, I looked around and realized I was not alone; others suffered, hurt, felt lost, too. From these personal situations I gathered them together in my thoughts for this blog and want to share some things about caring and compassion for the ”Filed and Forgotten;” however those limitations may affect the individual. As times passes here we will learn more about the specifics of these stories when applied. They mean the same to any left out and hurting, being passed by on the other side of the street or tracks by the those well in body, mind, spirit, and with physical resources to share, church people passing by.
This writing is meant to be a dialogue, interactive, participatory experience. First of all, I speak from the heart, not research and statistics, and desire that you think from the heart so that together we get a better glimpse of how we can help the shelved, the lost, the stressed, and the hopeless. The government passed the Disability Act, and yes, supported by our church agencies, but a neighbor down the street immediately sensed the thresholds in my house needed adjustments so I could go from room to room in my wheelchair. We have no bailout monies but such that we personally can do will serve many with just the shot in the arm that is needed. They will know that they count even when they find themselves out of the mainstream for whatever reason. Maybe for the first time in a long time, or maybe the first time ever, they experienced the caring heart and hands of another human being.
This is not a self-help book, nor manual on what to do if you are down, or even a lot of specifics related to individual cases of need. Agencies of various kinds produce such manuals but in many, most of our neighborhoods, the hurting never see them. In fact, most never heard of the Global Board of Global Ministries. Help where is needed in individual cases is not there unless you are speaking of feeding the multitudes in Africa, which certainly is part of our calling. Yet doing what you can, the best you can, as a caring person, right where you are, is a part of Christ's ministry or goodwill from any person of any religion.
Doing what I am doing right now seems to work for me as a person with limitations. However all the “forgotten” don’t have this way out, maybe not even having electricity, let alone a computer. Libraries, as well as our church and governmental agencies can fill our personal library shelves if we can get to the library or have monies to purchase books, or eyesight to read them. Let’s not ignore any advice from anywhere, but let’s put our heads together and see how we as intelligent and resourceful people can make a difference in someone’s life that feels “Filed and Forgotten.” If we professionals feel that we already understand all about this destructive feeling, we need to keep our minds, our hearts, and our doors open. Again it is about US who may find OURSELVES filed away in some cabinet drawer and treated as forgotten any day now so forethought isn’t too bad an idea. Without that look within ourselves, we won't care about anyone else.
Write me and share your thoughts and ideas with me and with other readers as we proceed. I will not be blogging very day but hopefully will be able to read your comments or questions each day and respond as I am able given my own physical limitations or pharmaceutical ones from changes in medication. It was neither of those that caused a delay in this second blog, but a laptop that needed a new hard drive, and the understanding yet technical touches of a generous Baptist friend. He worked overtime so “Filed and Forgotten” might move one. He didn’t close at 4 p.m. because he was needed and could help. That turned out to be one of those unexpected times when I felt like this blog was going to be “Filed and Forgotten”, for technical reasons but a caring person came to the rescue, even saving my blog notes. That is what we are to do for each other and especially for those in more dire need whom we encounter.
Sometimes a little break from the routine lets us rethink what it was we were trying to do. There’s the old traditional joke, if indeed it really is one, that a good sermon should have three points. To my embarrassment I had forgotten one here! In these blogs however, trying to keep it short, it is just as well that we don’t follow the old tradition. As we open this discussion, however, it is important for you to have an over view and I have only suggested two points now in an introductory way. The third will come next as we start the discussion of how the delivery of health/illness is a chief cause of coming down with that virus of feeling ”Filed and Forgotten.” You will see again how one person, the right person, in the right mood will bring joy to a patient. Do not be surprised if there are not more than three.

Friday, September 11, 2009

FILED and FORGOTTEN

FILED AND FORGOTTEN Blog 101

“Filed and Forgotten.” “How did you come up with that title?” you ask. That question will likely be answered far more fully later in a section of this blog. When I began to do seminars or book signings for by book, “FOR PETE’S SAKE, www.mentalhealthforpetessake.com, people would ask a similar question. What is that about? FOR PETE’S SAKE!!! ”Why, for Pete’s sake, don’t you ever think about mental health?“ we might retort” “Yes,” we would say, “FOR PETE’S SAKE”,(or some other exclamatory remark), of course, who doesn’t occasionally?” Google “thinks” about it at least 74,400,000 times! This reference to Pete is only one major component of this blog.
Several times at the Parke County Covered Bridge Festival in Central Indiana, people passing my booth at Bridgeton would laugh at the title, And sadly for them not stop and ask what it really was about. In the same way, we snicker at or ignore someone “different” and never get to know what I will be calling the “hidden treasure” to be found within that human being. What you see in the other person dictates honest response. Oh, you mean the focus is on “those people” whatever their difference from us may be? No, wait a minute.
To be sure, we can’t write this without calling attention to those people who find themselves in less desirable circumstances than we and who need our help. “They” are everywhere and confront us with choices as to whom to help. However, strangely, the emphasis is on US, not on THEM. We interpret “mission” as reaching out to someone or to some issue but if the missioner never looks inward, there is trouble. Simply said, it is whatever is in us, our minds and spirits, that separate us or assist in helping the needy in whatever way is appropriate. Neither will we be suggesting who needs help the most and how many dollars should you give. This is not about charitable contributions but rather about how we personally respond to an individual who needs hope, maybe only a smile acknowledging their personhood.
Lost in that 74 million Google hits is a man named Pete, my father who was institutionalized (“filed” if you will). Now his eldest son says,” He will not be forgotten, if I have anything to do with it,” and I ask you who read this blog to assist me in keeping alive his legacy as a person with mental illness and all others like him. As much as I loved my dad and deem his story to be important, there are millions more who suffer some form of mental illness, from minor to major, who are “Filed and Forgotten” on a personal level. The millions of them are made up one by one. We are thinking of any one person, a lost one, and not masses. Organizationally, we must work with the masses, but such is of little effect until that program reaches the individual.
People with mental disease roam our streets or fill our prisons “Let the experts take care of them,” and a man, a woman, a child in your neighborhood suffers from lack of our expressions of caring as one human being to another. So this is one of my special interests, making sure these are not “Filed and Forgotten” in our minds and without acts of compassion. In this blog we bring the suffering to our doorsteps, not for the experts, but for US, the average citizen, to assume some responsibility. We aren’t going “out there” to help, however legitimate our Global view of ministry certainly is, but to look around within our daily view. Nothing said here diminishes our global efforts, never. Overtime, we will return to this phase of our discussion about those who are “Filed and Forgotten.” Sometimes we will speak specifically about caring for the mentally ill and other times we will be speaking (Next blog) about another section of this dialogue, those who experience some kind of disability in body, mind, or spirit.
Your questions and comments are welcome, for my sake, as well as yours, because this writer, retired and aging, is “still in school," so to speak.