A difficult tasks, since my question relates to what - without one shade of exaggeration- is abuse towards an elder. I am that elder, and the abuse , in the form of neglect, perjury, withholding medical/care services, lack of protection from an abusive private landlord who has agreed to participate in section 8 program at the time be bought the property a little over a year ago. Has read and understood the rules. Then behaves like a slum lord. I have been in the same apartment since May 2004 with my first section 8 voucher. There is more, and I have been appointed a legal aid lawyer. As she rightly reminds me, there are so many people waiting and needing legal help, that she can only help me with H.U.D. Each petition for help to H.U.D., has met with a mild: Well, you should be thankful for the roof over your head; Mr. H. does NOT have to LET you have section 8, he could have "real" tenants; to retaliatory actions by workers the last 6 months that are incomprehensible. The apartment has a door with pins on the outside. I have been robbed twice. A long lasting serious water leak, now fixed, has left a layer of thick black mold. Now, some of that mold has moved into my lungs. I have bilateral Congestive Heart failure at 20% ejection fraction. Traumatic Stress disorder since early childhood. 63, and terminally ill.
I have -or had- friends desert me, in their own words: because there is something really grotesque about my story. This is America you know?
Question? What resources are there left, that by asking, will not pull the last remnants of the threadbare situation I find myself in? I receive " Disabled widow's survivor's SSA" $ 708 a month. $98 is deducted from $ 806, for Medicare premium, yet, SSA has informed me that SSA is reimbursing WA. State for the same premium. I qualify for this. DSHA on their part say my income is too high. I must spend $699 out of pocket for medical expenses before getting help. The one person who has read this strange document assured that these are" typos". The pharmacy didn't think so, by the 9Th of July, I was out of money and owed 3 different people a total of $296 in just medication.
My greatest sin: I am white and educated. My greatest arrogance is being persistent. I am dying and each time a letter arrives from Porchlight I can feel life ebbing at a faster rate. It's not depression, it is overwhelming stress. I often marvel at the common sense knowledge woven into our language, red with rage, blue=sad, and a broken heart. What is even more amazing is there is a true biological reason for a "broken heart" We are still wild animals. Sensing danger, the body gets ready to fight or flee (fight), temperature rises to speed metabolism, heart speeds to flood the brain with glucose to think faster, clotting time shortens, in case of injury...my sense of humour just popped up because as I was writing the last paragraph, I had a vision a room-full of anxious looking dsha clients in amiable -deer-like timid conversation with each other. Suddenly silence. There: the smell of fear. A door opens and the wolfker- worker is....I admit it. I love telling stories, or writing. More than anything: I have an irrepressible gusto for life!
The question still stands though. I speak out, but 90% of DSH clients do not. When I was able to move around, take a bus or similar, there was an opportunity to sit among my fellow poor in cash. Understanding and speaking several languages, I was able to enjoy the nuances of different cultures and advice sharing. One thing stands out more than anything else. As different as we all are/were, every one was afraid. Behind the counter are the Queens and Kings who rule and make up some on cue. On our side, fear and worse: shame. And shame does not belong in a waiting room of a "Department of Human Resources ."
......Because there are problems on the telephone post, making e-mailing too inconsistent
What makes this story worse, is, that in fact, what I have not said, is much worse.
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