Our top priority was wound care. Uriel had noticed a cut on Freddy’s index finger. The unattended wound ran the risk of getting infected. That was my introduction to working on the trenches of helping the Homeless in West Hollywood get off the street.
Wound care becomes a top priority over housing. Sounds ironic but there are so many psychological steps a homeless person needs to be led through, before they can advocate for housing. The medical bills and the medical complications that come from a visit to the clinic is not worth the risk of delayed wound care. Especially during the pandemic.

Freddy had to warm up to the idea of getting his index finger treated. Beneath that inch long injury was a sentimental heartbreak that ran deeper than the visual gash. As Freddy’s wound got treated, he cried over his lost love. The cleaning and changing of bandaids was a cathartic moment. In addition, many of the homeless were not ready for housing. It is easier said than done. It’s logical for someone reading this blog to think that wanting housing would be a natural option, but some homeless going hungry don’t even want to take the free bread or water we were handing them. Some are afraid of people because they have been hurt by people. All of the homeless are suffering of some kind of mental health disorder. As my focus shifted from watching Uriel treat Freddy’s wound to Ricky demanding my full undivided attention along with eye-contact, Ricky was telling me about his other personality. Ricky had done a quantum leap in his recovery compared to the first time I ran into him near the Beverly Hills sign about a week before Halloween. I was impressed. I’m looking forward to witnessing his speedy recovery in the next months.