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In His Own Words

In March, Michael Gossett, a resident of Catalyst, received two new prosthetic devices to help restore partial use of his legs. Staff and other residents of the shelter cheered this milestone and his commitment to physical therapy to be able to use them – a testament to Michael’s relentlessly positive approach to life. The long-time respite patient at House of Charity shares his story – in his own words – and his plans for moving forward.

 

Michael’s journey

In 1997 I was farming, actually building a farm down near Moses Lake for my dad and his partner out of Harrington. I had dislocated my shoulder and it was hurting, so I went into the doctor in Moses Lake and the next thing I know, I’m up here at Sacred Heart. I was there for 67 days – comatose. They found I have a rare clotting disorder called “factor five.” 

 

I had my first heart attack when I turned 40, then I had my first stroke when I was 42 – and over the years I’ve had 10 heart attacks, 10 stents, and 5 strokes. Anyway, long story short, I had to stop farming and move up to be closer to the hospital. During that time, I lost my dad to cancer, a year later I lost my mother to cancer, then I lost my wife to cancer two days after her 30th birthday – she was pregnant our twins – and then I lost my baby brother – all within 2-3 years.

 

I found myself in Spokane quite a bit and I got an apartment. They say you’re just one (pay) check away from being out on the street. And that happened to me! I didn’t have the resources to pay my rent. I ended up out on the streets, and the doctors were telling me I couldn’t be there. Then one of the doctors said “go down to HOC (House of Charity) – they have a respite program.”  The doctor actually drove me down there. That’s how I got to know the people there – and the little clinic next to it.

 

I remember the first time I was there I was scared to death, because here I was around people on the streets. I’d never been around anything like that. And (the staff) just made me feel welcome and safe, like “We’re big and bad, we’ll protect you!” And they were – they were tough!

 

That’s where I spent 90 percent of my time - up in HOC’s respite. I didn’t realize I was really homeless yet. I never got another apartment. I had friends that I lived with. HOC was always at my back, always my go-to place, and the people there really made me feel so at home.

 

I was in-and-out of the House of Charity (HOC) - the respite part of it - over the past few years.  Just recently, I lost a leg due to blood clots – that was emergency surgery at Sacred Heart in 2023. And my other leg came off this past spring (2024) at Deaconess for the same thing.

 

Learning about Catalyst

I’d heard about the Catalyst on the news when I was at Trent (at the end of COVID).  People were talking about it… “Man, they’re strict out there, you gotta go through security; you’re gonna be searched” and all this kind of stuff. I never was worried about it. I didn’t think I deserved coming out here; I hadn’t paid my price. But I actually had over the years. I didn’t realize how many years get behind you! I was so excited to come here, I remember the night before I couldn’t even sleep; when I first came in, I was scared to death.

 

But you know what? The people here, the peers and staff were solid.  They made me feel right at home. They’re always… “we’re gonna get you going on the straight path…” and they’re always here. That’s the thing, man, I could wake up and be bummed out. They always have a smile or they always have a compliment or pat you on the back to get to you going. They really care!

 

I look at Catalyst as a stepping stone. I try to tap ‘self-worth’ (programs) and take charge of my destiny – because that’s the way it should be. I try to tell the people who are here – I try to lead by example – that this is a stepping stone. It’s not meant for you to come in here and camp out – it’s not going to be here forever. All good things have to come to an end at some point in time.  Some of them know this, and some don’t.

 

The best thing is there’s no limit to what you can have done or do in here. If you haven’t got your license, you can get your license. If you want an apartment, you can go look for apartments. They’re going to help you do whatever you want to do. There’s just endless opportunities in here and I see these people who work here – the peers – and see the excitement in them. I also see that they get tired from listening to the same old complaints. If I could stand up and give them a standing ovation, I would do that every day for what they do. Their inspiration is what gives me inspiration to keep going - and I try to pass that along to the people that I meet in here.

 

There’s a lot of neat stuff here. I like to play bingo. I’ve started painting – they are teaching me how to paint and I’ve never done that before. Watercolors are good. There’s karaoke on Friday nights. There’s a gentleman who teaches how to play piano and guitar – I’ve always wanted to learn how to play both, and I thought that would be kinda cool. There’s a lot of activities to keep you going.

 

A new challenge and opportunity

Right before Christmas, the doctor diagnosed me with colon cancer - and that was hard to take. I just started thinking…. man, since 1997 I’ve had all these heart attacks, I’ve had these strokes. I keep bouncing back but pretty soon your body just says “you can’t bounce back from this.” But, you know, I’ve got some friends, and they tell me “we’ve got to have you here, it’s not going to be the same if you’re not here.” I keep trying to tell them… “this time next year, you know, I probably won’t be here, I may not be here to help you – you’ve got to do this yourself.” And they don’t want to hear it. 

 

That last thing (the cancer) – it kinda floored me and it’s been kinda hard to get up. But, you know, I just sat there and well, I’m not one to feel sorry for myself. It’s ok to dwell on it maybe for a Sunday afternoon or something, but Monday’s coming around – it’s time to get to work, or do something to get your mind off of it. A body in motion stays in motion and as long as I’m staying in motion they ain’t gonna have time to dig a grave for me!”

 

I was talking to a friend about this place. And she said: “So you’re thinking about moving?” and I said, “Yea, I have the money to get an apartment, and I could free up my room and a couple or someone else to come in.” I love it here – but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t come back and help in some way.

 

I need to be able to let somebody else come here. Really. Where I want to go to, I could get a 2-bedroom, it’s reasonable, it’s a really nice apartment complex … and now I have somebody else who lives here who said “I would go with you and be your caretaker.” It would open up 2 rooms.

 

If you don’t have a goal you stagnate. My goal is to keep living. I got glasses after not having them for 3 years or so. And I’m getting legs. I can’t walk all the time, but I’ll be able to walk some. I stood up the other day (a week ago) for the first time after 2 years. That was pretty emotional.  



Michael walking with new prosthetic legs

 

Hope restored

I’ve got a real deep appreciation for God. I know there is a God. There was a time in my life I didn’t really like him – when he took my wife and my babies – but I know there is a God and He’s real. I’ve seen Him turn things in my life to good.

 

I don’t know what my purpose is – I’ve helped a lot of people over the years. Maybe that’s the only reason I’m still alive. I don’t know, I just try to be positive.  And I also found out that sometimes you can save someone’s life just by having that smile and giving them a pat on the back. I feel pretty fortunate – I haven’t gone through half of what some of these people have gone through on the road. I just wish I could do more for people.

 

I’m not a perfect person – by far, I’m not perfect, believe me. I don’t say the right things sometimes, but people get the gist from me – I’m old school. I mean good for everybody and I want good for everybody. God will take care of you, but you got to do for yourself, too. Hopefully in a couple of weeks, I can stand up and walk back into this place. That’s what I really want to do.

 
 
 
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