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My address? Hmmm...

Writer's picture: Chris DarbyChris Darby

And you thought the title was a forgetful response to an inquiry. Like you couldn’t remember your postal code. What if I told you it was the average reaction to a question posed by a new paramedic completing their call report on the way to a hospital? Still no bells going off in your head? Forgive yourself. Most of us have never had to interview a homeless person, let alone care for one. Paramedics do, more often than the public could imagine.


This post is directed to the public first, then responders, with no malice intended towards either population. Civilians will likely have difficulty understanding something they take in from arm’s reach. Responders receive extensive training on how to interact with the public. Then, and only then do you begin to comprehend and process the concept. When you are immersed in that lifestyle as a public servant, you get it, although you will have difficulty describing homelessness to the uninitiated.



Most responders handle it well and go home at the end of their tour, none the worse. To take on every plight being lived by others as a cause, first responders and healthcare workers could work or volunteer 24/7, burning out like a dying star screaming across a night sky. Shouldering that task is not realistic. Being consumed with guilt or feeling responsible is not healthy and could ruin the average civilian or public servant in a flash. Homelessness should open your eyes and hearts to the difficulty others face in our midst.


A young paramedic entering a career in prehospital care has likely never faced such circumstances before serving the public. Similarly, a citizen driving or walking downtown in any city could pass a homeless soul and dismiss the sight as it disappeared behind them or from their rearview mirror. The saddest part is that the urban nomad you viewed for a fleeting moment will likely not be thinking of you or your circumstances either for more than a nanosecond. And that’s on a good day.


A homeless person is a multi-tasker, and I don’t submit that thought as a compliment. Often people from our displaced population are simultaneously living a life of substance abuse and compounded medical problems, including mental health crises. They tend to have a very high pain threshold, dismissing stressors like the cold and injuries or wounds that would drive the likes of you and me to healthcare resources at the onset.


Not seeing a way out and failing to get the help they need to escape their lifestyle, many homeless persons just coast along, taking what comes. A great day to some is when they or a friend meet good fortune like some food or a handout. The relief is short-lived. Most return to an alley, behind a store, or beneath a blanket in a doorway.


Often a shopping cart or bag with belongings is very close by. You would be surprised at how little value or relevance the belongings have to their comfort or survival. We all like to own something and enjoy the feeling of ownership. Cars and homes are great examples. These folks are no different, though the bags and carts are often a collection of discarded items that they cling to. One evening, I watched a fellow make his way around the core, systematically moving several shopping carts with protruding shapes of broken things. The effort made no sense to me, but it kept him occupied.



Poverty and homelessness are NOT mutually exclusive. The conditions are commonly concurrent, one often feeding the other. Victims enslaved by substance abuse and mental health crises often decline help, walking away from jobs, homes, shelter, possessions and friends. The story gets repetitious, going from call to call as a responder. The condition requires several layers of assistance to change the outcome.


The public, in an attempt to help, reaches for their phone. In what I like to call a “drive-by 911’ing,” well-meaning citizens solve the problem with three digits. Or so they choose to think. No crime has been committed. The quick fix often dispels any trace of self-imposed guilt.


The ambulance or police respond depending on the description offered by the caller. Callers are often so vague both services are compelled to respond. The hail results in great demands put upon our resources. The problem is more significant than one person or response. The system is plagued, routinely backlogged with these calls for help. Many victims wind up in the healthcare system in the emergency rooms.


Fortunately or not, public servants and healthcare providers only interact with a fraction of the homeless problem. Individuals that surface are more aware of the resources available and present themselves to shelters and emergency rooms in the hopes of a hot meal or a quick fix for an ailment. Most homeless folks are not looking for the “big picture” or permanent fix. What they really need is someone to take over that picture. That outcome is possible, but sadly good results are few and far between.



When thinking of “burnout,” most outsiders immediately gravitate toward post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from responders witnessing one or more stressful events. That is undoubtedly true. I would take the position that after seeing chronic circumstances of hopelessness and the associated conditions like homelessness, a critical event could be the proverbial “straw that broke the camel’s back.” Or is it a case of the “which came first, the chicken or the egg" scenario?


Following years of public service, I thought the plight of the homeless might fade for me and be left in the care of those still serving. Was I wrong? This week, a trip through the core drove the point home that the problem is alive and well, with at least half a dozen fellows and one woman standing on traffic islands with signs asking for money. Compounding the issue was seeing several homeless individuals gathered on the streets, belongings in tow.


The saddest moment was stopping adjacent to a fellow I knew well from working EMS in the city. Nearly three years after my retirement, the same long face searched up and down the street for something he couldn’t find. Driving away in traffic, I marvelled at his fortitude, having survived. It had been another three winters since I had last seen him.

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1 comentário


peteraitchison99
29 de abr. de 2022

Well Darbs, as you note in your fine article here, it is a problem that is increasing with every passing year. It seems that no solution is close at hand. That, of course leads to the question why has it become so persistent?

One answer might be society's reluctance to deal with this issue is because of the great cost to our government, the reluctance of social agencies to agree on a course of action that might include warehousing these individuals, and the lack of resources provided to our enforcement agencies to track down suppliers of the drugs that are a great catalyst to the problem.

Police, Ambulance, social services, hospitals and the general population will continue to bear the…

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