Humans of Burnaby

The Holes in Our System (1 of 3)

(The photos for this story are not of the individual)

"First of all, my story is not unique. My life is one long saga about the holes in our system. I fell through the cracks and it’s almost impossible to crawl out.

I taught aerobics in Kelowna, I managed a gym. I earned my own money and now all I am is an elderly beggar. I was an animal advocate for abused, lost and found animals. Now my life is about trying to survive.

I used to live in Surrey. One day, I was rushed to the hospital due to a kidney failure and I ended up staying there for 9 weeks. After I came out of the hospital, I found out that my landlord wanted me to move out. I missed the notice because I was in the hospital. I also found out that my cat sitter had let her 19 year old son look after my apartment while I was away and he stole my mother’s jewelry, my jewelry, and my money which I thought was well-hidden.

Anyways, that’s why six years ago, I spent eleven months in different homeless shelters. You get 30 days in one shelter and then you have to go to a new one. I don’t know how many times everything I owned got stolen. At one point, I had no shoes, no bra and no shirts. I finally got a cellphone and one of my roommates took it and stomped on it.

At one shelter, a man dropped dead in front of me because of a heart attack. He was not a drug addict. He simply came out of the hospital and was homeless, like me. These poor people…there was no room for them in the hospital and they lost their home because they had no income and would end up in shelters, like me.

One day, I went outside to have a cigarette and the people beside me were smoking crack. Then the police show up. The people who were smoking it pointed at me. So I was arrested. I was taken to St. Paul’s hospital and thrown in a rubber room overnight. And I lost my bed in the shelter and my cat because of it.

I was lucky that a kind social worker found me and helped me find my current apartment in Burnaby. However she either got a promotion or found a different job because she disappeared and no one else stepped into my life after that. That’s another gap right there. There is nothing I can do about it.

I know what it feels like to be treated like an animal because it has happened repeatedly to me. People think shelters are only for drug addicts or homeless people but there are numerus people who fall through the cracks of the system and end up there. Some of the things that happen to people in this community are more than the mind can handle. I have friends who have turned away because they could not handle what happened to me.

My daughter lives in a different city and has 3 kids and an absentee husband. She also has severe depression. The government wanted her to take care of me but it was too much for her. She could barely take care of herself and I do not blame her. I was a single mother as well.

I don’t know what the streets of Burnaby look like because I’ve been extremely sick from cancer. Prior to that, I was misdiagnosed which delayed me from getting referred to a surgeon. I missed the opportunity to get my cancer surgery because I was in the Burnaby hospital with pneumonia when they called. I’m no longer a candidate for surgery, radiation, or clinical trials.

I’m on tumor suppressants now, along with various other pills I have to take. My life revolves around my medical appointments and I rely on volunteer drivers to get me to them. Although it’s never guaranteed that I’ll be matched with one.

If I had money, I would hire people to help me clean, do my laundry, drive me to places, go to the bank to withdraw cash, and do my grocery shopping. But my rent takes up all my income so how am I supposed to live? I don’t even have internet anymore. I’ve probably lost all my Facebook friends by now.

Once I leave the hospital, they forget about me. They do not take the time to listen to you and try to understand what you’re going through. They interrupt you and make comments that YOU should figure this out and YOU should do this and that instead of looking at the 72 pounds that I am.

The seniors will eventually die but at least don’t let them suffer. Even if nothing comes out of this, the fact that people like you listened is meaningful to me. Being heard is so important. Being understood would be a luxury."

Seniors like her need support from the community. Please sign up as a volunteer driver at 604-292-3902 or reach out to us to find out more ways you can help. Connect with us through email (Salena@BbyServices.ca or Events@BbyServices.ca), phone (604-299-5778), or social media.

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