Broken, Nothing. Demolished!

Justice is dead.

Justice is sick.

Justice has run away.

Justice has broken her arm in eighteen peices, glued her head to the door, sold her soul to Satan and joined three different cults, all of which involve some form of Kool-Aid.

Any and all of these might have occured and the system, including Social Worker Dayle Kline, would not even know it. The fact that they haven't is, for the most part, just pure dumb luck on her part, and the watchfulness of a cross-bred German Shepherd and a security camera on our part. Yet we can't even get Social Worker Dayle Kline to call us back!

Yesterday, Justice asked Lillian, "Why hasn't Jonah visited me in awhile?"

For those of you not in the system, and count your lucky stars for that one, a foster child is supposed to be visited once every month to make certain he/she is well, being fed, clothed and not housed in a shed with wolves.

Yeah, I was as shocked as you are. What else are the wolves supposed to do at midnight?

"Jonah isn't your social worker anymore, Justice," Lillian replied.

"Oh."

Yeah, "oh" indeed. Social Worker Dayle Kline has had Justice's case for four freaking months and Justice has met her twice. Once because we brought Justice in over the whole loss of services back in November.

Which brings us to Part Two of this particular rant. Last week, Justice was complaining of some aches and pains and whatnot. We scheduled a doctor's appointment, fully confident that the system and Social Worker Dayle Kline had taken care of any and all issues to ensure and insure that Justice's health and well-being were first and foremost handled.

Wrong.

No, wait, that syntax and mechanics weren't strong enough. Let's try this:

WRONG!

Lillian got to the doctor's office, they swiped Justice's medical insurance card and it came back on hold. You may recall that we jumped through huge hoops and worked the phones like Republican Party incumbent pundits on a sinking platform ship. We were assured by everyone from God on down that this matter was handled and all things were well taken care of and well in hand.

WRONG!

We had to get an emergency release for Justice just to see the doctor, and while I was assured by Social Worker Dayle Kline that this matter would be handled and that she would call me back when all was well again, can you believe it?

No call back.

Feel free to insert any choice explitives, colorful metaphors or vulgarity as befits your station in life.

What this means, in addition to the lack of insurance, is that the money, which before wasn't really an issue, has now become an issue. Justice receives a stipend for clothing and food and whatnot, which is paid out in Lillian's name. It's not a lot, but it offsets the otherwise minimal impact that Justice has had on our budget.

We haven't received this since November.

So, here we are again, once more working the phones like crazed monkeys trained to punch numbers and chirp until something happens on the other end of the line.

And people wonder why there are half-a-million foster children stuck in the system?