Come On, Give A Guy A Break

The problem of being affiliated with a State office is the consumers think you really have some power and that YOU can change the direction of their lives. Even if I go out of my way to tell the consumer that I have no power; I am just a low rung government flunkee they never believe me. The next time they have a problem they drag it straight to my desk and expect Me to do something about their problem.

There is a senior high rise directly behind my office building which houses not only seniors but people with disabilities who might also be younger the 65. Many of these folks pass our building when they are out exercising or traveling to the train station. The see by the name of our office that we have something to do with disabilities and the just veer into our office.

Jeffery is one of these folks. Jeffery looks just like a character from Dick Tracy. He must be in his fifties, has a grizzly beard and looks pretty grizzled. Jeffery has some sort of mobility disability which requires him to use a scooter for mobility. He has a little dog, which looks like a pile of dirty rags until it barks or moves for some reason. The dog is a Pomeranian or some such small k nine. She ride between Jefferies feet on the floor of the scooter. A couple of weeks ago Jeffery purchased a new scooter, or at least his insurance provider, at least a 1000.00 purchase. Anyway, he scooter died over the weekend leaving him very stranded. He calls the vendor where he has purchased his new scooter, the scooter is still a couple of weeks out, to se if they could provide a “loaner” scooter. The vendor will not loan him a scooter. Jeffery is furious and now wants Mental Health Association in Utah to do something about his problem. We do not do client services we just provide ideas and direction. I give Jeffery time, time to vent time to tell me his story and concern. I reinforce his decisions of contacting the vendor, State Assistive Technology, his independent living center and a couple of alternatives I had not thought of. He calms down and I find out his independent living center may have a device he can use. They were supposed to have called him this morning and since they had not he was over talking to me. Come on Jeffery it’s Monday—ILC’s are private non-profits it takes them a while to warm up enough to move. Go home and call them. I told him to call me and let me know what he finds out. He was happy now. He had vented and now his anger spent he turned and jerked his old scooter out of my office heading back to the high rise. It’s almost five and I have not heard back from the little guy. I’ll call the ILC tomorrow and see if Jeffery got his loaner and start thinking evil thought about the vendor in question who could/would not provide a loaner to someone who had just spent a couple of thousand for one of their products.