He’s a homeless man who is having some problems with his wife of eight years today. “She tried to clock me in the head with a hair dryer,” he says, his eyes red and teary. He says that she’s a schizophrenic and unmedicated for a long time. They can’t afford the cost of the $30 health care copays to receive care in this town. It’s like that for a lot of the area’s homeless people. I listen as he shakes his head in disbelief at the person his wife has become. I feed him a piece of Apple streusel and a banana, as he hasn’t eaten in two days because of their alcoholism. I try to get him to camp out on our floor but his pride is in the way. We send him off into the cool misty night with a peanut butter sandwich and hope that he will stay warm. 


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