Monday, August 2, 1998
There's no 'right' to stop medication
Capitol shooter a tragic example
BY DEBORAH KENDRICK
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Some months ago, I wrote about the freeing of people with mental and developmental disabilities from our institutions. I quoted advocates who refer to these institutions as prisons, and the practice of keeping human beings in them as incarceration.
The conviction that ''freedom for all'' is no nursery rhyme in our country is at the core of my sense of who I am. My certainty that all of us who obey the laws of this land are entitled to equal civil rights is a belief I've clung to since childhood.
And yet, as I have told my children for years: There are no black-and-white issues; life is too complex for that. There are, rather, shaded areas of gray.
Following my column on the institutionalization of the developmentally and mentally disabled, I received a number of letters from people who highlighted for me the gray areas in this particular issue.
A tragic shooting
I heard from a mother who believed that she could not possibly care for her significantly physically disabled daughter alone. She was grateful for the facility where she believed her daughter was cared for, protected, and even loved. She feared losing her placement if her identity were revealed.
I heard from a son-in-law, who believed that in his mother-in-law's final months, nursing home staff prolonged and preserved the quality of her life with 24-hour care and supervision. His relative enjoyed being in the nursing home, he said, and the long hours spent there, day after day, by him and his wife, revealed nothing but dedicated, committed staff.
And I heard from a father who knew his son was potentially dangerous to others. His aggressive behaviors were only manageable by medication. Outside his group home, though, he would not take those medications.
I am haunted by the echo of a woman I met some years ago, a brilliant woman who had been homeless for a time, and who now ''had her life together'' with a job and a decent place to live.
''They are killing us all,'' she said. ''They are throwing us (people with mental disabilities) out of the places where we have lived, and into the streets, where we can't possibly survive.''
This week, we have mourned as a nation two federal police officers whose only known fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The man who burst into the Capitol and gunned them down is a paranoid schizophrenic who has rejected his medications for the last two years.
Consider a few facts:
Since the 1960s, new drugs have made it possible for most paranoid schizophrenics - and indeed, individuals with a host of other disabling conditions - to lead ordinary, productive lives.
Most people with mental disabilities are no more dangerous than people with no discernible disability.
Mental health experts estimate that 25 percent of prison inmates are people with mental disabilities.
Disability rights leaders often stress the importance of disability groups ''hanging together.'' In other words, wheelchair users should defend deaf citizens, and deaf citizens should defend those with AIDS, and those with AIDS should look out for the well-being of diabetics.
But consider a few more facts:
If, as a blind person, I fail to use my guide dog, I am injuring no one but myself.
If, as a diabetic, I fail to take my insulin, I harm no one but myself.
If, as a person who needs a wheelchair, I allow my chair to fall into a state of disrepair, its lack of stability endangers no one but me.
Some individuals with certain mental disabilities who choose not to take their medications are known to be risking harmful effects not only to themselves but to others.
Greyhound treatment
No one could have predicted the exact incident that occurred at the Capitol July 24. There were, however, clear pronouncements that it was a bad idea for Russell Weston to avoid his medication. There were also glib references to Montana having provided him with the ''Greyhound treatment'' (evicting him from the state to avoid further trouble).
Sending someone out of town because he has a mental disability is not a solution. Neither is locking him up. But anyone who is a danger to society and refuses to take medication must pay a price.
There are no black-and-white solutions here. The outcome of this case will undoubtedly affect many Americans with mental disabilities. Maybe it will even be done in such a way that individual rights - and the rights of everyone else - will be respected.
Deborah Kendrick, a Cincinnati free-lance writer, is a nationally recognized advocate for people with disabilities. Write: Deborah Kendrick, Cincinnati Enquirer, 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202; e-mail: 71340.473@compuserve.com.
KENDRICK ARCHIVE
