Father's plea for help from Hennepin Co. goes unanswered

Late last month, faced with a frightening medical prognosis, Scott Rogers, 47, asked his father to take him to a gun store, not a doctor. Jerry Rogers didn't know how to force his mentally ill son into treatment, so he reached out for help from Hennepin County.

He called county social workers, who told him to dial 911. He called Minneapolis police, who knocked on Scott's door and left when he didn't answer. He called county lawyers, who didn't call back.

Jerry Rogers thought that he was describing the kind of crisis that would trigger an all-out response and land his son in the hospital, where doctors could treat a potentially life-threatening case of internal bleeding. But his pleas for help didn't go anywhere, and his schizophrenic son was left to figure things out for himself.

"I have a son that is sitting there and could well be dying," Jerry said. "I have to take it as fact and assume I have to get him into treatment or accept he's dying because no one else is doing anything."

Carmen Castaneda, program manager for Hennepin County Adult Protection Services, said that she can't talk specifically about Scott's case, but she acknowledged that her office is supposed to respond immediately to calls about mentally ill people who refuse medical care. She said a caller is told to dial 911 only if there is immediate danger.

"We can defer to the police and we don't have to take the report if it's urgent," Castaneda said. "You need the police if there's somebody getting a gun. You don't need social workers."

But in this case, neither the agency nor the police followed up with Scott's father. Roberta Opheim, the state's mental health ombudsman, said the case shows how a system that is supposed to intervene in a crisis can fall short.

"Most of the systems have more work to do than resources, so they're always looking for the quickest way to triage to the right place," Opheim said. "People who are the most vulnerable, not just a mentally ill person but a citizen, should have the right to call government and get an answer to a question."

A history of illness

For more than 20 years, Scott has struggled with paranoid schizophrenia, often ending up in state mental health hospitals, halfway houses and treatment centers. He was involuntarily committed at least three times. Court records show he suffered from paranoid delusions, fearing that family members were trying to kill him and inventing tales of assault by strangers.

Scott has lived on his own for six years with the support of a state-funded housing program for individuals with chronic mental illness or chemical dependency. He spends most of his time disassembling and rebuilding audio equipment in his south Minneapolis apartment.

Once a week, an employee from the housing program stops by to check on him and take him shopping for groceries or clothes. Jerry Rogers, a 74-year-old retired salesman, also tries to take his oldest son out for breakfast every Saturday morning.

There are still manifestations of mental illness, Jerry says, including Scott's habit of going on 20-mile walks.

During a long walk this May, Scott fell and dislocated his shoulder. He claimed, improbably, that he slipped on ice. He refused treatment for the injury.

A few weeks ago, Scott was back in his doctor's office at Hennepin County Medical Center for a regular checkup and blood tests. A nurse later called Jerry to tell him that his son's white blood cell count was very low. She asked Jerry to persuade Scott to come back for more tests.

Instead, Jerry took Scott to a Park Nicollet clinic on Sept. 22 for a second opinion, where they heard an even more urgent warning: Scott appeared to be bleeding internally and needed immediate treatment or he could die.

Once again, Scott wouldn't cooperate. On the way home, father and son argued over Scott's request to go to a "gun store," a frightening notion that brought back memories of Scott's previous commitments. Scott got out of the car and walked away, despite Jerry's pleas to return.

Jerry called Hennepin County adult protection and filled them in on his son's possibly life-threatening condition and his disturbing interest in a gun. Jerry said he was told that adult protection doesn't deal with situations like that. When he asked what he should do, the employee said to call 911. Jerry told the same story to the 911 operator and asked that his son be picked up by police.

The 911 report shows that three Minneapolis police officers, including an officer from the department's crisis intervention team, stopped at Scott's apartment less than 20 minutes later. He wasn't home so they left. The three officers didn't look anyplace else. Minneapolis police spokesman Sgt. William Palmer said without more information or a specific threat, the officers couldn't do anything more.

Turned away by officials

Jerry Rogers grew even more concerned when his son vomited on their way to a restaurant for lunch the next day, but still refused medical treatment. Then he received an urgent letter from Scott's doctor at Park Nicollet.

"I am writing at this time simply to emphasize the dangers of ignoring this situation," the doctor wrote. "If the blood loss continues unchecked it could lead to severe weakness and even death."

A spokesman for Park Nicollet declined to comment about the letter.

Alarmed, Jerry called the Hennepin County Attorney's Office mental health department, which oversees involuntary commitments. He told his story to two employees and waited for a call back, which he never got. Rondah Kinchlow, media manager for the county attorney's office, said a family member calling about a civil commitment should talk to county social workers.

Scott, who admits he recently threw up blood, still doesn't understand what all the fuss is about. He thinks he'll get better if he drinks more protein shakes and exercises more.

"I'm not trying to disappoint anybody by saying no, but I think I can figure it out," Scott said. "It's really disappointing cause of how hard I've tried to be good to myself and take care of my health."

In 2008, Adult Protection Services in Hennepin County received 1,479 reports of self neglect and opened investigations into 238 of those calls, agency records show. Castaneda said most reports are resolved during the initial phone call.

In more serious cases, she said, adult protection workers talk with the patient, family and medical providers to determine the patient's diagnosis and mental capacity to make their own medical decisions. If there is a significant enough risk, officials can approve an emergency hold that allows the patient to be taken to a hospital and treated without their consent, as long as a doctor approves.

"Sometimes they can self-neglect into death," Castaneda said. "It's very lethal, and we take it seriously."

Jerry hasn't given up. He recently described his son's condition to another doctor, who said Scott's condition may not be life-threatening, but Jerry worries his son's case will ultimately slip through the cracks. His son still refuses treatment.

"I feel responsible for his condition," Jerry said. "I'm his father."

Lora Pabst • 612-673-4628