The homeless guy camped next to the busy street just outside of our hotel is still here. I’m going to call him Bob because it’s awkward to keep calling him “the homeless guy.” I haven’t met Bob yet, but Sena got him some water. She had to give it to the hotel resident who so far is the only one who has been able to communicate with him.
Sena and I talked about what might be done for Bob. She noticed that his face was sunburned bad enough to cause the skin to peel off. Could a case be made for his being a danger to himself?
Of course, you could guess this issue would come up because I’m a retired psychiatrist. As an aside, I found an article published in the Daily Iowan early this year. The author interviewed several residents of a homeless camp who were displaced after a fire and subsequently the owners of the land closed the camp.
The homeless people at the camp were articulate and open to interview. Some of them were clearly choosing to be homeless and able to state how and why they did.
Bob might not be articulate enough to do that. He spends most of his time lying on the pavement with his blanket over him. It’s sometimes hard to tell if he’s out there until he moves. When he’s up, he usually stands up and waves his arms back and forth or sits on the grass. Occasionally, he moves in ways suggesting he’s acting out some kind of conversation with an invisible person.
A police officer stopped by, spoke briefly with Bob, and left. A woman stopped by and tried to help him clean up his room, so to speak. She picked up some of his trash and put it in a bag. She tried to get him to help, but he didn’t seem to understand.
What about Bob? Is he a danger to himself or others? Is he incapable of taking care of his basic self-care needs? Sooner or later, this would come up because the mental health laws would come into play. There are many homeless people out there living under bridges and camps. We’ve seen them when we go out for walks. Not all of them are definable as mentally ill.
There is guidance on the web about how to pursue a court-ordered psychiatric evaluation. I’m a retired psychiatrist and often was involved in those circumstances.
One way it works is that two people who are acquainted with the person go to the courthouse and complete paperwork to have someone ordered by a judge to be taken to the hospital for a mental health evaluation. If the judge signs an order, then typically the police would pick the person up and take them to the local emergency room. There aren’t vans with mental health professionals roaming the city looking for potential patients.
A psychiatrist performs a comprehensive mental health evaluation and later presents the report and testifies at a scheduled hearing. Attorneys are involved and give testimony for and against civil commitment. The patient also can speak. If the patient is court-ordered to inpatient treatment, that treatment is provided in the hospital usually. Periodic reports must be submitted to the court. Some people who are the objects of these interventions get better. Others don’t.
What’s missing here? You must at least know his real name to file for legal hold order. Although Sena says she saw Bob take out a cell phone, it’s not clear he knows how to use it or whether it even works. The only people who interact with him are those who are driving by and who show sympathy by buying food and water and other items for him. He usually tosses the empty water bottles in the parking lot where he sleeps. The police evidently didn’t think he needed an intervention from their perspective.
We don’t even know his real name. I haven’t tried to talk to him. I’ve never seen him act in a threatening way to anyone. Bob takes up one parking space and keeps his belongings within it. He usually lies under a blanket, often for several hours at a time. Bob doesn’t panhandle and I doubt he’s capable of that.
Am I Bob’s keeper?
Go Retire Psychiatrist 