Lodging home life redefined by COVID-19
Vulnerable residents walking out unprepared has advocates calling on city to seize reins of residential care facilities through pandemic
At Noyel Lodge in Dundas, owner Veronica Chris-Ike runs the 11-bed home with the help of her four adult children, including Chimezie left, and Whitney, right. Veronica says, “My concern is for the other residents. If the infection is brought into the home, my whole family might die.”
Nathan felt so restricted by pandemic rules at his lodging home that he left and spent two nights in a shed instead.
It was his first time sleeping rough.
Living in a lodging home is hard. Living in a lodging home during a pandemic is harder.
Residents of 88 residential care facilities (RCFs) in Hamilton are under new COVID-19 rules, some of which restrict their freedom.
Combine that with RCF operators who fear residents and staff will become infected with the virus — potentially causing the kind of deadly outbreaks sweeping longterm care homes — and you have conflict.
“I signed myself out due to the landlord,” says Nathan Reid, 31, who lived at Bold Street Residence for just over a month before bailing. He left a week after the emergency lockdown began.
The manager of the home called a house meeting and “was telling us we couldn’t go out,” says Nathan.
“If you guys go out, you’re getting kicked out until this whole COVID thing is over,” he recalls her saying.
The pandemic “does not give her the right to almost keep us as prisoners,” says Nathan.
Many RCF residents share a bedroom, meaning they have no privacy. Often, they don’t have a phone.
Currently RCFs do not allow visitors. So the only way some residents can interact with friends is to visit in person.
As well, walking can be therapeutic for residents.
Hundreds of elderly, disabled, mentally ill, cognitively delayed and otherwise vulnerable people live in our RCFs. Some have addiction issues. Some have been in jail. All need help with daily tasks.
Some RCFs are privately owned, but 52 — more than half — are subsidized by the city.
Edward John, Hamilton’s housing services director, says that at the start of the lockdown, some RCF operators misinterpreted guidelines “and informed a few residents who left without identifying where they were going that they were not permitted to return to their home.”
When the city became aware of this, it clarified the guidelines “so residents were permitted to return.”
Since COVID, housing services and public health have conducted two teleconferences weekly with the Ontario Homes for Special Needs Association, which represents subsidized RCF homes. The association is responsible for passing that information to members.
Nathan says he understands the pandemic protocols.
He bought a protective mask and wears it out in the community, being careful to “keep my distance.”
On the day he became homeless, he spent hours with friends at the Tim Hortons parking lot at King and Caroline.
When he returned to his RCF, he had a confrontation with staff over his long absence. Nathan decided to permanently “sign myself out.”
He went back to his friends: “All the shelters are full and I don’t have nowhere to sleep.”
He was told of an unlocked shed behind a business. He spent two nights there.
Nathan is currently staying at the Salvation Army and does not want to go to a RCF.
He’d rather take his chance on the street with coronavirus.
“I’m actually not afraid to die,” he says.
The administrator of Bold Street Residence, Judi Vermeer, says nobody was threatened with eviction for leaving the house. But they were educated as to why going out multiple times a day could spread COVID.
Meetings were held with residents “to convey to them how serious this was,” she says. Some of the 24 residents are seniors and at greater risk of contagion. Judi herself is in her 70s.
Over at Noyel Lodge in Dundas, owner Veronica Chris-Ike had a similar confrontation with resident John Pitt, who liked to leave the home for hours at a time.
“I can’t legally make anybody stay in the house,” she says. “But the whole world is in lockdown.”
Chris-Ike runs the 11-bed home with the help of her four adult children.
“My concern is for the other residents,” she says. “If the infection is brought into the home, my whole family might die.
“I don’t wish anybody this stress.” A horrific outbreak at the Rosslyn, a combined RCF and retirement home, sent more than 60 residents to hospital and infected 20 staff members. Four residents died and one was inadvertently left behind for nearly a day when the home was evacuated.
Chris-Ike says John “kicked himself out” because “he was tired of all the rules.”
John, 32, has a different take. He says he got kicked out because he went out of the home.
“I got tired of all the yelling and arguing in the house,” he says. “I’d leave and I’d go do something. I was going to the bank and I was going to Tim Hortons. The rest of the time I was walking by myself.”
John Pitt Sr. says his son — who has schizoaffective disorder — was illegally evicted from Noyel on Easter Monday.
He lived there for three weeks. John Sr. says Chris-Ike insisted John had to stay in the home because of COVID.
“You can’t make someone stay on your property,” he says. “You can’t evict someone during the pandemic.”
John left his belongings behind and headed on foot, in the rain, to his dad’s place on Tisdale Street South — about 10 kilometres.
John is living with his dad now, but hopes to find his own place.
Stephanie Cox, a Hamilton Community Legal Clinic staff lawyer, says “unlawful evictions” have always been a problem at RCFs, but the issue has grown since COVID-19.
RCFs “are instituting really strict rules” due to the pandemic, she says. Some residents are leaving because they don’t like the rules or are being evicted for breaking them.
“It’s creating this emboldened entitlement amongst the owners to force someone to leave,” says Cox. Owners are bypassing the due process of the Landlord and Tenant Board.
The board rarely approves the eviction of a person on a first complaint. Board members “recognize a power imbalance” between the RCF tenant and a landlord, says Cox.
If an eviction is approved, a Notice of Termination is required and the tenant cannot be removed for 14 days.
“Tensions are so high in these places to begin with,” says Cox. “The lockdown is difficult on their mental and emotional health … Some are treated like domesticated animals.”
Cox has sent a letter to the City of Hamilton asking it to intervene in the operations of RCFs during the pandemic and change the way it oversees lodging homes generally.
Cox has proposed the creation of an ombudsman position to represent the interests of the public.
Hamilton’s director of housing services says the city will “explore” the possibility.
On April 15 — nearly a month after the state of emergency was declared — the city issued 31 orders to RCFs in non-compliance with health and safety regulations. Six additional orders were issued April 17 and April 18, three to combined RCF/retirement homes and three to retirement homes. Another six orders were issued April 21: three to RCFs, two to retirement homes and one to a combined home.
The city says all facilities are now in compliance and there are “no further orders planned.”
Michelle Baird, the city’s director of epidemiology, wellness and communicable disease control says regular public health inspections of RCFs are on hold.
“Our priority has been ensuring all RCFs are implementing COVID restrictions, infection control measures and having up-to-date outbreak plans in place,” she says.
Dr. Jennifer Brasch, head of addiction psychiatry at St. Joseph’s Healthcare, has also heard troubling RCF eviction stories from patients. She is quick to note there are some very good RCFs in Hamilton.
One man who Brasch sees weekly at a private opioid therapy clinic, signed a waiver to leave his RCF. Brasch says he is incapable of understanding such a document.
He is a drug user in his mid-30s with a “severe and persistent psychotic illness.” He was found not criminally responsible by the court and ordered to have treatment at the forensic unit of St. Joe’s.
He received methadone daily from a pharmacy to stem his addiction. When COVID hit, arrangements were made for six days worth of methadone to be kept at the man’s RCF, to reduce his trips to the pharmacy.
When the man signed the RCF waiver saying he was leaving “voluntarily,” nobody called his social worker. Instead, an RCF staff member drove him to a shelter and handed the methadone to a worker.
The man didn’t stay long at the shelter. When he left, he was given his methadone to carry with him — 140 milligrams worth.
For most of us, 60 mg would be deadly.
Methadone also has a “high street value,” according to Brasch. The next morning the man showed up at the methadone clinic. His face was cut and he was highly agitated. He had been assaulted and robbed of his methadone and “had clearly been using drugs.”
The man left and Brasch “formed him,” meaning he would be involuntarily taken to hospital under the Mental Health Act. It took Hamilton police all day to find him as he wandered downtown.
Brasch says the man does not understand the pandemic or physical distancing.
He was taken to the hospital, psychotic and highly agitated with stimulants in his system.
Living in a RCF is much safer for a resident — and the whole community — than being homeless, says Dr. Jill Wiwcharuk with the Hamilton Social Medicine Response Team.
But there are valid reasons why some of her patients do not want to live in lodging homes.
“These are often folks who don’t have fantastic skills regarding negotiating and compromising,” she says. “Then they feel like ‘They’re not even letting me out for a smoke, or to get a coffee.’ Tempers are flaring.”
Wiwcharuk suggests easing up on residents to allow them to go out and clear their heads. Screen them when they return and provide masks and hand sanitizer. Educate them about the pandemic.
Otherwise, risk more evictions or “voluntary” walkouts. Possibly with no alternate plan.
“I see people’s health fall apart when they are homeless,” says Wiwcharuk.
She calls on the City of Hamilton to recognize this “shameful situation” and “take some firm control.”
“COVID shines such a light on all the fractured aspects of our social systems.”
Susan Clairmont is a Hamilton-based crime, court and social justice columnist at The Spectator. Reach her via email: sclairmont@thespec.com