Patricia's Correspondence

I received this, my fifteenth message from Patricia on 8th February 2011. This email letter is signed by Patty A and Margaret B. Starting from letter 10, the letters have became more verbose and wordy, presenting more information of Patty's life. We're starting to see a fuller picture now. If this continues, we may be able to write a full length biography of Patty. Does this consistency verify Patricia's story.

Subject: Re: Hello

To Whom It May Concern:

There was a mix up in medical records, first responders and transportation when I was sent to Centennial Peaks Hospital without warning or just cause in about 2001 when I had the altercation with one of our neighbors. I'm sorry I did that and I paid the price for it at the time but at least positive changes were made because of that. I had just gotten off welfare and was moving out of Section 8 Apartments, was back in school, had a part time job and had just gotten our new cat "Sunny." Maybe it was too much, too fast, too soon for someone else not myself. They probably had problems they weren't dealing with or weren't receiving help or it was the wrong type and had nothing to do with myself or my past medical history. I probably had some adjustment difficulties but who wouldn't after all I had been through and with the neighbors regrouping for another assault on myself, our home and property almost before our very eyes when I had barely moved back home again. After all I had been through it's only common sense I would need some minor help settling in but that request was ignored or the neighbors and my mom's friends and relatives had their own version without consulting me first.

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I thought I could rely upon and trust Dr. Pretoria's office and Stephanie Seine since they knew my mother. I was lead to believe all welfare, subsidized housing, medication and mental health records were no longer applicable and the case files had been closed and I could start all over again with a clean slate with only minor intervention of my own free will and choice and in my own way, at my own speed and in my own time. I was lead to believe I was free to recover and get my life back on track without further harassment from the authorities. I don't know why someone couldn't have been a little more polite or concerned about me and my situation when they were overly helpful and concerned about my mother as usual. That may have made my anxiety worse. It's like they didn't want to be bothered with me and only on their terms or they were still relying on old records and even gossip from when I was in college or high school. They seemed to have no respect for me even though they knew I was Margaret [me]'s daughter and she was my mother. I had my own difficulties but I didn't need the neighbors problems as well. They overreacted and should have stayed out of my business and left us in peace. They are the ones who should have been on medication, hospitalized or sent to live in the homeless shelters and apply for welfare instead of me. That night when they took me by ambulance to Centennial Peaks the ambulance first stopped at St. Anthony's West and then on to Presbyterian/St. Luke's for another ambulance transfer for some reason. I think they said they transferred me to another ambulance for the ride to Centennial Peaks in Boulder but I wouldn't know. They should have known better or should have kept track of those records and it should be their fault if they lost them or misplaced them. It was more than just a minor clerical error in that case. It was another deliberate, intentional and unprofessional mistake on their part as far as I'm concerned. They had a lot of help to get it wrong and to do whatever they pleased with me after that and terrible things could have happened to me and no one would have known or even cared. Just coming back home again to live wasn't as easy as it sounded and in reality I had a difficult time doing just that not only because of my past problems but because of the neighbors and my mom's friends and relatives ongoing problems. It wasn't my fault this area was a bad place to live or come home to in order to recover and recuperate. No one in their right mind would want to live here under those circumstances and with all that still going on. Coming back home to live again when I thought all was well and was cleared up was a little difficult to say the least and probably had been for several years by that time. Many times I was literally stalked or hunted down and forcibly made to live elsewhere against my own free will and better judgment by MHCD or the welfare department. That went on for most of my life and even my own parents and especially my own Dad never had to deal with something like that a day in their lives. It wasn't exactly my fault or my own doing that I didn't want return home earlier and I certainly never "ran away from home" or anything similar ever a day in my life. They had me confused with someone else. When it came time to pay the bill from Centennial Peaks, the records departments at St. Anthony's as well as Presbyterian/St. Luke's as well as Centennial Peaks gave us the run around or got the records lost or mixed up. I think I was only there a week so maybe the visit by the priest shortened my stay but I wouldn't know. He never said anything to me about that and neither did the staff. I had been there done that so often by that time I didn't need extra pity and phony concern by our parish priest on top of everything else who was never around when I needed him anyways. Not even the Samaritan Shelter could communicate or get through to him or his office apparently. Neither he nor anyone else made any attempt to communicate or talk with me when I was in the shelter system and shortly afterwards and for many years after that.

Even the hospitals and transportation companies didn't know what really happened that night as far as where I was at or where I was transferred to or who saw me and why so they claimed. It was stressful, harmful and traumatizing for myself, my mother and my cat as well as some helpful and supportive friends we still had then. I had just begun to settle in and get adjusted to living at home again and was still recovering when someone must not have liked that or was jealous or decided to go after me again for whatever reason. They were on a power trip as usual and I wasn't prepared for that or wasn't aware they were still around and still had a lot of problems. Whatever friends I may have had in the neighborhood had grown up and moved away years before that or so I thought but I could have been wrong.

Fr. Parson, the parish priest at All Saint's Church saw me while I was at Centennial Peaks give me communion even though I never agreed to that and he was aware of that also. I didn't like him doing that and it against my better judgment and free will because the staff at Centennial Peaks let him in or let him do that without asking me first. I didn't need that nor did I appreciate his visit unannounced, out of the blue and against my own opinion, choice and free will because he could have been one of those who thought I needed to be there in the first place or thought there was something wrong with me when he apparently didn't even know who I was or the first thing about anything. I was already in therapy and was trying to get out of that vicious cycle not further into it but he may not have gotten that message or misunderstood that or ignored that request or could have cared less because he had his own problems he wasn't receiving help for. I don't know how he found out I was there or who told him and why. For the previous 10 to 15 years before that no one knew where I was at or so they claimed. I was at The Samaritan Shelter, Gathering Place and was in the homeless shelter system, in and out of hospitals, on Section 8 Housing and in and out of MHCD programs. No one in the homeless shelter system and no volunteers of any church or religious organization communicated that fact to anyone and no one talked to me about anything either. No one bothered to talk to me about anything or communicate with my mother, our church or much of anyone else. They also claimed they were the ones who couldn't talk to anyone or myself about anything or were prevented from doing so. Either way I was the helpless victim who was traumatized and in shock not them. They should be the ones who are blamed and held accountable not myself. I had no choice in the matter and I couldn't refuse his visit or the staff at the hospital thought I shouldn't have any free will or say so in the matter but that shouldn't have been any of their business or concern and violated my rights to privacy and he should have known that also. They never asked my permission or consent beforehand and neither did he and never discussed it with me or him beforehand or asked my permission and consent. I found that very rude, disrespectful and unprofessional on his part as well as the hospital's. He wasn't with the program himself or well educated enough to know what was going on or what I had been though or didn't really care to check it out or even communicate with anyone on my behalf over the previous 10 years or more as far as I know. He didn't bother to take me into consideration since I am one of his parishioners. I was hoping he may have known something or could at least guess but I was wrong. He didn't bother to ask me anything, communicate or check anything out or even talk to me. He acted like he didn't believe me or didn't want to listen to me or take me at my word. He and they were probably relying on what the neighbors told them or old information, gossip and hearsay from the crooked and corrupt neighbors, doctors, therapists, paramedics and cops when they were the ones who were sick and out of control and probably needed to be locked up away from society for their own safety and education and not myself for once. He disbelieved me while believing the neighbors, cops and confused paramedics who conspired to do that to me in the first place. I never did really like him and neither did my Dad as I recall because of stupid, ignorant and disrespectful things he did. He was very unprofessional, inconsiderate, not very well experienced and not very nice to me when he was instead a little too nice or afraid of the troublemaking neighbors and cops that did that to me in the first place. One would think he would know something more, be more educated about things like that or at least know enough to give the victim the benefit of the doubt and do the right thing but good luck on that. That was the last straw and another slap in the face by someone I thought I could trust and rely upon. It was his or their fault not mine. I am the victim not he or them.

Loretto Heights College and the history associated with it and the early days of Denver and Colorado and The West are worth saving and protecting and preserving but a lot of other harmful and backward thinking they harbor and try to instill I can live without. They do some good I suppose like hopefully looking out for the rights of innocent animals and wildlife but I wouldn't know. It's just a guess. I only know what I have been through starting at age 13 or 14 when I had a nervous breakdown. My mother tried to ask another parish priest for help and assistance and wanted to talk to him about our family problems when her mother died and she lost her job and income and my dad lost his job and income and I was having my own problems but she caught him making out with his Hispanic housekeeper. He said he was going to marry to her and was quitting the priesthood. The last we heard they moved to California. It was very unprofessional and hurtful for my mother and our family knowing he broke our trust and his vows and that they were very dishonest and problem ridden themselves without anyone else knowing about it or even complaining. Trust was broken after that and we were very shocked and sadden they were so messed up themselves and apparently no one knew about it or wanted to believe it or do anything about it. My father was also very disappointed and let down by the church when he was younger and needed sanctuary or assistance but was rejected also.

At Mesa College there was a big fraternity on campus that held beer parties and Friday Afternoon Club events as I recall. I had always attended beer drinking functions at campus parties on the weekends and even off campus parties the first year I was there with no problems or uncalled for condemnations by anyone. That all changed for some reason the last two years I was there. The fraternities and sororities were also responsible for bringing then presidential candidate Ronald Reagan and Nancy Reagan to Walker Field Airport in Grand Junction for a speech. It was a big deal in those days. I didn't think it was a big deal because I wasn't into politics and wanted to stay away from anything to do with the government system and may have been too preoccupied with other stuff to attend group functions in a college atmosphere that would have been considered normal and appropriate. I didn't have a car and no one invited me to ride out to the airport so we could see them. I was too scared and stayed in my room a lot. Their daughter Patty [me] and I share the same name but I don't know if others on the campus knew that or even cared or were that educated and aware of politics and the Reagan's like they had claimed. There was another woman in the dormitory named Patty [me] also. I met another Patty [me] at the Samaritan Shelter. It is common name especially in The South. I thought Patty [me] may have been married to or was dating Lt. Col. Oliver North in those days but I could be wrong. I don’t keep up on Hollywood gossip because I always had worse things to worry about. I always liked Oliver North even in the days of the Iran/Contra hearings for some reason. No one ever said anything to me about that or discussed it. It was perhaps just a coincidence. The economic downturn and "Reganomics" in the early 1980's never affected me because I never graduated with a degree in anything and certainly wasn't job ready and was probably homeless, in hospitals or in foster care or not doing too well in the early 1980's so I wouldn't know and it never affected me one way or the other. It was another misdiagnosis by someone who should have stayed out of my business. Those few years in the early to mid 1980's passed by quickly and I may have been too traumatized and unaware to notice or even care about another Patty [me] or "Reganomics."

Patty A. and Margaret B.