No Place to Sit

I have known Judith for years, but last night was the first time I saw her cry. Her tears caused little dirty streaks to run down her cheeks and we tried to comfort her. But she didn’t want comfort, she wanted food.

Last night was my first night back on street outreach after a two month hiatus caused by nursing school conflicts. I brought out a friend who’s been really interested in coming out and helping. After packing our bags at the clinic we headed over to the Mission to hit up our usual SRO hotels. The street was hopping, our clients were out in force, and we provided some supplies to women on the street before heading into a hotel. Inside I greeted women I have known for years. This long term relationship has developed a lot of trust on both ends, they whisper what they need in my ear, and l go into their rooms alone to chat, something I would never consider with a new client. They thank us profusely and one of the women hands me a folded bill telling me, “I know you guys take donations, you have taken care of me so much over the years, take this to buy more food to give out.” I am deeply touched and take her money without looking at the amount, I thank her heartily and think about how amazing these women are.

Leaving the hotel I see she gave us a twenty, a large amount for someone on a completely fixed income. Going into the next hotel we are out of food, when we see Judith. I have known her longer than any of the other women on the street, she is sweet and childlike, and very emotionally labile. Her hands and face are usually dirty and she rocks back and forth as she talks to us. We pack her a bag with toiletries, bandaids, and condoms. She asks about a snack pack and we tell her we’ve run out. She’s incredulous, “You’ve run out? How am I supposed to eat?” We tell her we’re sorry, we’ve seen a lot of women already, we’ll try to bring out more next week. Then she starts crying, “What am I going to do? I haven’t eaten in three days? I’m going to get more sick and end up in the hospital.” She’s sobbing now, we hug her and feel impotent. But we aren’t, “Dorothy do you like McDonalds? Come on, we’ll go get you some.” But she’s in no state to leave, this is one of the major problems many of our clients have that make it so difficult for them to access services; they have emotional or psychological issues that often make leaving their rooms difficult to impossible. This is why bringing the services into the hotels is so important. It’s the heart of harm reduction: we’re literally meeting them where they are at.

My friend and I head out to grab McDonalds while our compatriots wait with Judith. As we walk my friend grabs my hand, I ask her if she’s okay, “Just hold my hand.” I look over and she’s crying, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m having such an emotional reaction.” I tell her, “You’ve just seen a woman crying because she is hungry and hasn’t eaten in three days, this is the reaction you should have.”

I use the money I was given earlier to pay for the food, and marvel that the need presented itself so immediately. Almost like magic.

When we got back Judith was chatting happily about the Holiday party the Mission Neighborhood Resource Center is throwing for the women this Thursday. She takes the food gratefully and starts eating. At least one of the many hungry bellies in this city will be satisfied tonight.