bright, dark and not alone
Thanksgiving (October 11th here) was nice. I roasted a turkey breast and made the usual sides including my awesome cranberry sauce.
Work is good. I have a supervisor now and he likes me so that's good. I have a client from hell who seems to suck all the life out of me sometimes and I screwed something up on his case and he's never going to let that go.... I didn't mail something and he may not get accepted to a school he would never have gotten accepted to except now he'll have me to blame it on.
Last week, I saw a client come up on my counter list (people who are in the building to be seen either by appointment or because they've walked in) who's name I didn't recognize. My worker number is the same as his worker number from another office so he asked for me, or my number, I guess. When I looked at his file I realised that he's on disability so I wouldn't be able to help him anyway since it's a different program with different funding. I went to our disability team to get some info and realised that our counter staff had already alerted them so I was in the clear.
Just as I was leaving their area, a worker asked if I'd pop into the booth and tell the guy she was working on getting him to the correct office. I went to talk to him and he just started to cry. I couldn't very well just leave again, I think you all know me well enough to know that, so I sat down and we talked for about half an hour. The short version is that he lives in one of the worst areas of the city, had all his money stolen, couldn't pay his rent, got locked out with his cats inside the apartmen, spent a length of time in the hospital, didn't take his meds...... My heart just broke.
The supervisor for the disability team came to tell me that we'd ordered a cab to take the client to the right office. He's agoraphobic and depressed and alcoholic and even though his girlfriend was with him he wanted me to wait outside with him. Of course, I went - I am a social worker and a mush ball. I have to leave the interview area through our office so I came out of the booth trying not to cry. When our security guard saw me and asked if I was okay, I burst into tears. When I could finally answer him, I told him I thought my heart might break. Seems he was standing outside the booth because the client was intoxicated and had heard everything and said he was surprised at how calm I'd been in the booth. He's a good guy and handed me Kleenex and told me I was in exactly the right job.
Outside, the three of us had a great chat about prog rock and blues guitarists waiting for the cab. When the car got there, his GF and I got him in and told him everything would be okay - as if you can promise that....
Just before the cab pulled away the client called me over and handed me a small sculpture and told me to keep it. He closed the door before I could say anything. When I handed it to his GF explaining that I couldn't keep, she started to cry. I said that I appreciated the gesture but I couldn't accept gifts. She said I didn't understand - that the sculpture was the only thing he had of his mother's and he never let anyone touch it, ever. I nearly lost it all over again....
They left a message on my voice mail. They spent one night at a motel but they couldn't stay there so they were heading out to a squat they know........
Work is good. I have a supervisor now and he likes me so that's good. I have a client from hell who seems to suck all the life out of me sometimes and I screwed something up on his case and he's never going to let that go.... I didn't mail something and he may not get accepted to a school he would never have gotten accepted to except now he'll have me to blame it on.
Last week, I saw a client come up on my counter list (people who are in the building to be seen either by appointment or because they've walked in) who's name I didn't recognize. My worker number is the same as his worker number from another office so he asked for me, or my number, I guess. When I looked at his file I realised that he's on disability so I wouldn't be able to help him anyway since it's a different program with different funding. I went to our disability team to get some info and realised that our counter staff had already alerted them so I was in the clear.
Just as I was leaving their area, a worker asked if I'd pop into the booth and tell the guy she was working on getting him to the correct office. I went to talk to him and he just started to cry. I couldn't very well just leave again, I think you all know me well enough to know that, so I sat down and we talked for about half an hour. The short version is that he lives in one of the worst areas of the city, had all his money stolen, couldn't pay his rent, got locked out with his cats inside the apartmen, spent a length of time in the hospital, didn't take his meds...... My heart just broke.
The supervisor for the disability team came to tell me that we'd ordered a cab to take the client to the right office. He's agoraphobic and depressed and alcoholic and even though his girlfriend was with him he wanted me to wait outside with him. Of course, I went - I am a social worker and a mush ball. I have to leave the interview area through our office so I came out of the booth trying not to cry. When our security guard saw me and asked if I was okay, I burst into tears. When I could finally answer him, I told him I thought my heart might break. Seems he was standing outside the booth because the client was intoxicated and had heard everything and said he was surprised at how calm I'd been in the booth. He's a good guy and handed me Kleenex and told me I was in exactly the right job.
Outside, the three of us had a great chat about prog rock and blues guitarists waiting for the cab. When the car got there, his GF and I got him in and told him everything would be okay - as if you can promise that....
Just before the cab pulled away the client called me over and handed me a small sculpture and told me to keep it. He closed the door before I could say anything. When I handed it to his GF explaining that I couldn't keep, she started to cry. I said that I appreciated the gesture but I couldn't accept gifts. She said I didn't understand - that the sculpture was the only thing he had of his mother's and he never let anyone touch it, ever. I nearly lost it all over again....
They left a message on my voice mail. They spent one night at a motel but they couldn't stay there so they were heading out to a squat they know........