Cameron is a part of Doctors without Walls - Street Medicine Santa Barbara. Here is something that he put together that describes what they do and see on the streets. They come to Pershing Park every week to care for our friends on the streets. Please support them at http://www.santabarbarastreetmedicine.org.
“I move at a hurried pace, dropping in and out of the sodium glow of the late night street lights, into the dark and then out of it. The air is heavy with a damp cold as I carry the small pack of medical supplies on my back. In front of me, the voice of Dr. Mimi Doohan carries softly as she talks with social worker Jennifer Ferraez about a young homeless girl, probably no more than 19 years old, that they have been reaching out to over the past month. As usual, they are meditating on her situation and discussing how to improve it. Two student volunteers from UC Santa Barbara are with us, carrying clipboards and a hospitality bag that contains things like socks. I am talking with Susan Franks, a registered nurse who is out with the team for the first time. Perry Cabugous trails behind us, a powerfully built volunteer who provides security for our team. This is one of two Doctors Without Walls / Santa Barbara Street Medicine medical teams canvassing downtown Santa Barbara tonight.
Our medical team is moving down Haley Street towards State Street. As we hit the corner of Chappalla Street, Jennifer flags down a slightly build man, with disheveled gray hair. The stubble on his face is beyond the 5 o’clock shadow of someone who had the luxury of shaving in the morning. His subtly soiled jeans show their age. He is quietly muttering to himself, lips moving on a stoic face that shows little emotion. In his hand there is a large garbage bag, probably contains all he owns, which he lets fall to the ground at the sound of Jennifer’s voice. The stoic face takes on a faint glow, and Jennifer approaches him under Perry’s strong gaze.
I know the face – it’s the face of Jeremy. This isn’t the first time we’ve run into Jeremy, who is a schizophrenic living on the streets. Tonight he is on his way to the Salvation Army for shelter, or at least he was until Jennifer called his name. The two talk now, and I join them. The way that Jeremy speaks reminds me of the way a small child would speak, and his eyes light up like a child’s in his interaction with Jennifer. Jennifer’s warm gaze mirrors his own as she talks with him as most of us would talk with a good friend. I check with Jeremy to see if he needs any medical care, but he doesn’t have any medical complains at present he says. Tonight, the mild-mannered Jeremy shows Jennifer a ticket he received from the Santa Barbara PD. It’s a citation issued under Santa Barbara’s anti-sleeping that makes it illegal for any person to sleep on a beach, street, sidewalk, or public way between sunset and 6am. It’s also a citation that Jeremy cannot pay. Before we Jeremy continue on his way, Jennifer gives him a phone number to call. It will put him in touch with someone that can help him deal with his citations. I shake Jeremy’s hand after Jennifer says goodbye. As we continue to move towards State Street Jennifer gives me a smile and say that I should probably use some of the hand sanitizer we carry in the medical bags.
“Jeremy’s hand makes its way to some not-so-clean places sometimes,” she says.
I break squeeze a small portion of the gelatinous fluid into my hands.
Fast forward a couple minutes, and we are walking up State Street between Cota and Ortega. We approach a man sitting quietly on a small wooden bench. A red sweatshirt envelops his stocky torso. A brief case of sorts is resting next to his side. Jessielee, one of the volunteers from UCSB, stops and introduces herself. A momentary expression of incredulous disbelief is followed by a smile and a reply to Jessielee’s greeting. His black round face shows the creases of age, and is unfamiliar to all of us. Jennifer steps forward and begins talking with the man. His happiness at being acknowledge is apparent. He’s probably been sitting on the street side bench for hours, with little more than a passing glance from the that continual flow of people streaming up and down the sidewalks of State.
The man’s name is Kurtis, and it turns out that he is a recently released inmate of San Quinton. At sixty years old, Kurtis has served his time for a crime he committed almost 35 years ago in Santa Barbara. Upon being released, the state authorities sent him back to the county and city where he commited the crime, despite that fact that Kurtis’ family lives in Alabama. He has no friends or contacts in Santa Barbara, is entirely unfamiliar with the city, and is now homeless. The suitcase by his side contains everything he owns. Most of its contents consist of a one-month supply of pharmaceuticals that he was give upon his release from prison. Kurtis is a diabetic. When his one month supply of insulin is exhausted, he will be left to fend for himself and procure the vital blood sugar stabilizer on his own. Upon learning that Kurtis has a number of medical conditions, Dr. Mimi Doohan steps forward and begins to discuss these medical conditions with him. His face is beaming and gracious as he talks with the doctor and continues to share his story and open up. But as he to tell us more about his situation, tears wash away the happiness and relief that have painted his face up to this point. He explains to us that he feels entirely helpless. He arrived in Santa Barbara 3 days ago. Being unfamiliar with local resources in the community, he has been sleeping on the streets and does not know where to seek shelter.
Dr. Doohan and Jennifer begin to talk with Kurtis about the various places he can go to get shelter, educating him on the local resources in Santa Barbara that can help him find a more stable living situation. After doing this Jennifer place a call to Rick at the Santa Barbara Rescue Mission. Normally late night arrivals are not admitted, but Jennifer is able to secure a place for Kurtis.
Kurtis agrees to walk with us to the Rescue Mission. Our medical team accompanies him down State towards Yanonali. Dr. Doohan and Jennifer agree that the Rescue mission is only about a mile away. Upon reaching the corner of Cota Street, Kurtis begins to sob again. He tells Dr. Doohan that this is where it happened – this is where he shot three people as a young, foolish 20-some year old. The remorse for his past actions is palpable. We continue to make our way towards the mission, arriving at the underpass of the 101 on State. Midway beneath the underpass, Kurtis stops us. He tells us that he needs an insulin injection immediately. Susan Franks goes to work and finds the insulin in his brief case. In no more than a minute, the registered nurse has also found the syringe, drawn up the requested dose of insulin, and administered the injection to Kurtis. He waits for a short while until the effects of the injection kick in. With a heavy thanks, Kurtis and the team continue towards the rescue mission down the barely lit cooridor of Yanonali Street. It is now past 8 o’clock on a late winter night, and as I suspected the Rescue Mission is further away than initially estimated.
Kurtis is becoming tired and has to take breaks every one or two blocks. The low lighting proves to be a challenge for Kurtis, who as poor eye site and cataracts. In addition to that, it appears that Kurtis is drunk. He must have been aware of that appearance, because about five blocks away from the mission he tells us that an officer stopped him earlier in the day and asked him why he was walking so unsteadily. He tells us jovially that he always walks this way, and that’s the reply he gave the officer.
About three blocks away from the mission, Kurtis reaches for something in the pocket of his sweatshirt. A small plastic bottle of vodka falls to the concrete sidewalk.
“Huh… that’s not mine. Where’d that come from? Must have been one of those young kids on State Street slipping it into my pocket,” he says.
Though some of us laugh, none of our attitude towards Kurtis change. Alcohol is a reality of life on the streets. Doctors Without Walls bases its efforts on each individuals needs, and right now Kurtis needs a bed at the Rescue Mission and detox services. He’s not going to get those services on the street. So, we all continue towards the mission.
After two miles of walking, Jennifer places another phone call to Rick who meets us at the entrance. Rick looks at Kurtis for a moment, and then asks, “When’d they let you out?” Rick and Kurtis begin to laugh. In an completely unanticipated twist, we learn that Rick and Kurtis were cell mates. Rick, a manager of the Santa Barbara Rescue Mission, had no idea that this was the Kurtis we were escorting prior to his arrival at the mission. The medical team and I are stunned by this development. It seems unbelievable. Rick thanks us for getting Kurtis over to the mission.
As we walk back to our cars, we are hopeful that Kurtis will have a good mentor in Rick.”
I consider my reputation…