they approached him and Troy stood on shaky feet. Kelly offered his hand. Troy looked at it surprised and then shook it.
‘Got you all set up here, Troy. Pastor Greene will take good care of you.’ Kelly walked away.
‘Thank you.’ He said. He never saw Kelly again. But Pastor Greene and all of the others at Wesleyan were as helpful as Kelly. Pastor Greene had the director of the WHHP come pick him up. The church sponsored the Wesleyan Helping Hands program to help the down and out get back on their feet. The director was Dan Greene, the pastor’s son.
They took him to a local medical center sponsored by WHHP but he had several broken ribs that required him to go to the local hospital. He didn’t want to, would have walked away but Dan promised that he would stay with him and he did. In addition to the broken ribs he had a broken nose, a fractured jaw, and frostbite on his fingertips. He got stitched up, given antibiotics, and released to Dan’s care with instructions that his fingertips may have to be removed if the circulation did not return.
Dan took him back to WHHP and he was assigned a nice room that had a bed, desk and a private bathroom. He gave Dan a surprised look.
‘Sorry it’s not very nice, but it’s just supposed to be a way center until you get back on your feet.’
‘No, it’s…’ Tears came to his eyes. ‘…it’s nice.’
Troy stayed with WHHP for three months. Sensation returned to his fingers and WHHP went about helping him with the task of finding a job, but he wanted to work at the facility. Pastor Greene told him that the purpose of the program was to help him to get transitioned back into society, but when he offered to work in the kitchen for free to pay his boarding, it was an offer they couldn’t refuse.
He was good in the kitchen and felt at home. He got to run it the way he wanted. The church ladies used to take turns cooking, but they gladly relinquished the job to him, teaching him how to fry chicken, make greens, biscuits from scratch and the best beef stew he’d ever eaten.
When he wasn’t working in the kitchen he attended classes; not just educational but therapeutic. He did great in the educational classes, taking his GED test and passing it within weeks.
The therapy was the worst. Again they tried to convince him that he should take medication. ‘The state of Ohio will help subsidize a place for you to live and you will be off the streets, isn’t that what you want Troy?’
He didn’t know what he wanted but he let them help get him into the system and soon he was in a nice apartment. Unfortunately for him, with a real apartment he had to have a real job so he left his beloved kitchen and WHHP got him a job at a telemarketing company that was ‘handicap’ friendly.
He was given medications to relax his brain’s seizure output synopsis. It also relaxed everything else. At night he’d sit in front of his television set and not even know what he’d watched all evening. At work he was tired and yawned all of the time. His hands shook even more than they did before so he got medication. The medication took a long time to work on him because they kept adjusting it. One thing gave him insomnia, one thing made him too sleepy, something else helped with the stuttering and tics but it might make him lose his appetite.
‘Look, I don’t want to take the medication anymore.’ He said to the doctor. ‘I can’t think straight. I don’t have any desire to do things. And I feel sick or high all of the time.’
‘We’ll just have to keep adjusting it until we find the right combination. It’s a work in progress, Troy. And if you come off your meds completely you’ll lose your subsidy.’ He felt like a test subject. Maybe they were even doing experiments on him. That sounded too close to paranoia, but people only call it that because it’s so close to the truth.
Troy stuck with the program for six
‘Got you all set up here, Troy. Pastor Greene will take good care of you.’ Kelly walked away.
‘Thank you.’ He said. He never saw Kelly again. But Pastor Greene and all of the others at Wesleyan were as helpful as Kelly. Pastor Greene had the director of the WHHP come pick him up. The church sponsored the Wesleyan Helping Hands program to help the down and out get back on their feet. The director was Dan Greene, the pastor’s son.
They took him to a local medical center sponsored by WHHP but he had several broken ribs that required him to go to the local hospital. He didn’t want to, would have walked away but Dan promised that he would stay with him and he did. In addition to the broken ribs he had a broken nose, a fractured jaw, and frostbite on his fingertips. He got stitched up, given antibiotics, and released to Dan’s care with instructions that his fingertips may have to be removed if the circulation did not return.
Dan took him back to WHHP and he was assigned a nice room that had a bed, desk and a private bathroom. He gave Dan a surprised look.
‘Sorry it’s not very nice, but it’s just supposed to be a way center until you get back on your feet.’
‘No, it’s…’ Tears came to his eyes. ‘…it’s nice.’
Troy stayed with WHHP for three months. Sensation returned to his fingers and WHHP went about helping him with the task of finding a job, but he wanted to work at the facility. Pastor Greene told him that the purpose of the program was to help him to get transitioned back into society, but when he offered to work in the kitchen for free to pay his boarding, it was an offer they couldn’t refuse.
He was good in the kitchen and felt at home. He got to run it the way he wanted. The church ladies used to take turns cooking, but they gladly relinquished the job to him, teaching him how to fry chicken, make greens, biscuits from scratch and the best beef stew he’d ever eaten.
When he wasn’t working in the kitchen he attended classes; not just educational but therapeutic. He did great in the educational classes, taking his GED test and passing it within weeks.
The therapy was the worst. Again they tried to convince him that he should take medication. ‘The state of Ohio will help subsidize a place for you to live and you will be off the streets, isn’t that what you want Troy?’
He didn’t know what he wanted but he let them help get him into the system and soon he was in a nice apartment. Unfortunately for him, with a real apartment he had to have a real job so he left his beloved kitchen and WHHP got him a job at a telemarketing company that was ‘handicap’ friendly.
He was given medications to relax his brain’s seizure output synopsis. It also relaxed everything else. At night he’d sit in front of his television set and not even know what he’d watched all evening. At work he was tired and yawned all of the time. His hands shook even more than they did before so he got medication. The medication took a long time to work on him because they kept adjusting it. One thing gave him insomnia, one thing made him too sleepy, something else helped with the stuttering and tics but it might make him lose his appetite.
‘Look, I don’t want to take the medication anymore.’ He said to the doctor. ‘I can’t think straight. I don’t have any desire to do things. And I feel sick or high all of the time.’
‘We’ll just have to keep adjusting it until we find the right combination. It’s a work in progress, Troy. And if you come off your meds completely you’ll lose your subsidy.’ He felt like a test subject. Maybe they were even doing experiments on him. That sounded too close to paranoia, but people only call it that because it’s so close to the truth.
Troy stuck with the program for six
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