Over-worked doctors, caseworkers let mentally ill fall by wayside

MILWAUKEE — Georgia Rawlings blamed her landlord for her two missing front teeth, but said the crack she used to smoke probably didn't help.

Rawlings has been sober for about three years now. She said she's in a much better place, but the daunting memories of Milwaukee's illegal group homes for the mentally ill haunt her.

Rawlings lived in West Samaria, known as one of the worst. However, despite West Samaria's filthy living conditions, Rawlings said she's lived in places even more unfit.

After she was kicked out of West Samaria for crude behavior, Rawlings lived in a group home where the landlord served her and the other tenants moldy bread and rotten milk.

Rawlings' friend slept on a mattress that was soaked in urine.

They also had some unwanted roommates – rats, which Rawlings described as "the size of cats." 

"The rats couldn't eat the food (our landlord) gave us, either," she said.

The city inspectors never reported the unlivable, illegal group home. Instead, caseworkers, who are supposed to be responsible for keeping their clients safe, would sometimes recommend the homes to the mentally ill.

The city didn't acknowledge the problems until soon after March 2006, when the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel published a three-day series titled "Abandoning Our Mentally Ill" about the living conditions in the homes.

A new home

Life wasn't always like this for Rawlings. She grew up in Wilmette, Ill., a small town north of Chicago. She had a pretty normal childhood until she starting hearing voices in high school.

Now Rawlings lives in a much cleaner place, thanks to her friend Nancy Luecky. The two have been friends for 25 years; Luecky has even written Rawlings into her will.

Luecky owns a small trailer home and shares it with Rawlings and Holly Katcka. Rawlings said they, plus close friend Debbie Maloney, are always hanging out at the trailer home together.

All the women have some sort of mental illness.

Like the "Golden Girls," they all watch out for each other and love to gossip about their latest crushes. Luecky jokingly filled everyone in on the best way to lose weight: Get rid of your husband.

Rawlings was married once, but said it was a "shotgun wedding."

When she lived in West Samaria, she had a boyfriend named Willy, but she lost track of him; now she's seeing Katcka's son, Jeffery. She really likes him, but Jeffery was just released from the hospital after being treated for depression.

The air in their cramped home is thick with cigarette smoke. Rawlings loves her Newports.

"Smoking cigarettes is better than smoking crackiola," she said.

In the month of January, Rawlings rarely left the trailer because she was too scared. Unlike the group houses, she said she feels safe in her home for the first time.

Even if she'd want to leave, she doesn't have a way to get around. She isn't physically capable of using public bus transportation, and she can't drive.

There's a transit service that will pick up disabled people at their homes if they call 24 hours in advance, but it involves a lot of paperwork.

Rawlings is overweight and 58 years old. Her knees and ankles are swollen and give her a lot of pain. If Luecky weren't around to help, she'd be helpless.

Last week was the first time in a year Rawlings got out of her chair by herself.

Most days, she sits in her blue recliner plopped in front of the television watching Lifetime movies. She sleeps in her chair, too, because it's too hard for her to get in and out of bed.

So when Luecky goes to work as a caregiver for a few hours each day, Rawlings doesn't move from her recliner, even to go to the bathroom. She just waits for Luecky to get off work.

Rawlings said she wishes she could have a nurse come over and help her for three hours a day while Luecky is at work, but since she doesn't have insurance, she can't receive that kind of aid.

Searching for help

Rawlings and her friends complain that there's little funding for health care; it takes a long time to see a doctor, because the demand is far too high for the supply.

And it's hard for the mentally ill to keep the same doctor because they never remain at the same facilities for long.

Psychiatric care is even worse, the women said.

"Any care you get that's free, you better bet it's terrible," Luecky said. "The doctors have such a big case load and can't get to know his patients."

Rawlings won't go back to the last psychiatrist she saw because she didn't like the medication he prescribed her. She said she felt like the doctor didn't tend to her needs; she doesn't trust him.

She doesn't trust her caseworkers, either. While Rawlings and Katcka have caseworkers to help them, Luecky and Maloney don't.

Luecky has strong opinions about how unhelpful caseworkers are, saying they're controlling.

Rawlings never sees eye-to-eye with hers.

"Caseworkers are supposed to be a support system, not the one making decision for you," Luecky said. "Georgia's caseworker is always trying to order her around. He doesn't want Georgia living with me even though she is safer here."

Living day to day

Although mental illness runs in her family, Rawlings' had a hard time understanding her mental illness. She still keeps in contact with them but not very often.

Rawlings' friends have faced similar troubles with their families. Maloney's family just doesn't talk about her mental illness.