Walking Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death
Chapter 14
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Psalm 23: 4-5 (King James Version - Bible)
Like a lamb to the slaughter, I began my walk through the valley of the shadow of darkness. I sensed the smell of death but I had been pacified by the naive words of my uncle and the deceitful words of my lawyer.
"Have no fear, the assessment must be professional and unbiased", I was told by these two men who eagerly guided me forward.
"Bu . . . bu . . but, I bleated who are these people? I haven't chosen them, Children's Services has chosen them. It doesn't make sense that the very people who are working against me should be able to dictate who I must submit to in an assessment and I have no say?"
But my words fell on deaf ears. Though this caution made so much sense to me , it did not seem to make the slightest sense to these two men who were suppose to be helping me. It was almost as if my very questioning of such an illustrious system, reflected poorly on myself.
The words were pounded into my head, "These are professionals. Of course they will perform their task professionally. They are not allowed to be biased, and the sooner you submit to this assessment, the soon you will have your grandson back. It will only be a matter of weeks and he will be back with you" These were the enticing tender morsels that were strewn along the dark and rocky pathway leading to the slaughter, and I ruminated on them as I slowly treaded forward.
I forgive my uncle. How could he, a business man from western Canada, have any notion of the corruption so notoriously imbedded in Nova Scotia. At this point, I wasn't even aware that such corruption existed in my province. But my lawyer, he should have known better - And I was later to realize that he did know better. He was a family court lawyer. He knew the system.
He would have been well aware of the notorious abuses of the assessments anyone who challenges Children’s Services are forced into. At the very least, as my lawyer, if he had been doing his job watching out for my best interests, he should have advised me before proceeding, but he did nothing to prepare me for the process.
In the meantime, I was having other concerns about this lawyer: he seemed to have consistent problems with his memory. In one of my communications to my uncle I remember expressing that 98% of my stress came from having to deal with the ineptness of this lawyer.
Still naive about Children's Services, I questioned the case worker about my lawyer, and then, without saying anything about my specific concerns, she informed me that seeing him in court, he seemed to be a good enough lawyer, but that it appeared to her that he had a poor memory.
With this confirmation, I decided that I did not want to continue with this lawyer and I immediately began searching for a new one. But, much later, after this court case had concluded, I stumbled across documentation that would reveal not a poor memory but an extreme conflict of interest ! (I will speak on this later) This document was proof that this man had no right being on my case. His bumbling, his incompetence, and his apparent lack of memory, I was to finally realize were all meant to mess up my case.
But, at this point in time, I was still naïve about the lawyers, the justices, the whole justices system. I assumed I had the misfortune to stumble on a solitary inept lawyer and I assumed my next lawyer would be better.
Ridding myself of lawyer number one and taking on lawyer number two, took place just as I was beginning the assessment process, and for a time I was not represented by legal counsel. During my first interview, the assessor stuck a number of consent papers under my nose pressing me to put my signature to them, immediately. This, in itself, was inappropriate, but I also did not want the assessors to know that I was in a vulnerable position - without a lawyer. I wanted to delayed signing of these papers until I was able to consult someone I trusted.
But unbeknownst to me, my slaughter had been swiftly planned and I was meant to be swiftly executed with this wicked, corrupt assessment. I was working a full-time job, eagerly soaking up the preciously few allotments of supervised visitation thrice weekly with my grandson, as well as attending a number of meetings with a variety of lawyers as I searched for a legal replacement, whilst still juggling my current lawyer.
When I did finally hire a new lawyer, I required additional time acquainting her with my case. How disappointed and perplexed I was to find out that my second lawyer was as blasé about the assessments as my first.
For weeks, I was compelled to surrender every spare moment to this assessment process, consisting of hours of intense verbal interrogation, culminating in what I refer to as a final 5 hour marathon. I remembered this day well. I had taken a bus from work, making a pit stop at a restaurant next to the assessment services for lunch. The restaurant was busy and the service was slow. I had ordered a shrimp pasta but the shrimp was inadequately cooked, and, not having time to reorder, I ate the pasta and left the shrimp on my plate, giving the waitress only a swift explanation as I quickly paid the bill and dashed out the door.
The first part of this marathon began with the usual interrogation with a Social worker, Linda McEachron, but near the end an older woman, Dr Ruth Carter came into the room. Then this second person participated in this final interview/interrogation. When this interview was finally completed I was escorted by the doctor to another room where I was to be administered three different written tests. After a brief explanation, as to how I was to fill out the forms for these tests, I was left alone in the room to complete them. These tests consisted of a number of multiple choice and true/ false questions, with a few complete the sentence statements at the end.
I recall being concerned that a number of the statements on the form were very ambiguous. Every once in a while, the doctor would come in and ask how things were going and if I had any questions. When I raised my concerns and we conversed as to the meaning of a number of the statements, I remember, my saying to this doctor that from my training as a teacher, specifically the training that I received in forming clear questions or statements for examination purposes, I found many of these statements severely lacking. As she clarified to me her understanding of the statements, I indicated to her that I would write these clarification on the forms so that there would not be any misunderstanding as to my meaning when the forms were interpreted.
As I worked on the last page, I was physically exhausted, so much so that when the doctor poked her head in for the last time, my exhaustion was so obvious to her that she set down at the table and verbally asked me the last two or three “complete the sentence'“ statements filling them in in her own handwriting. Feeling totally wiped-out and exhausted, she led me to the front foyer. It was then that I realized that the entire building was deserted. It was past office hours and everyone had already gone home. My head felt light and spacey and I was totally zonked. As a university student I was used to 3 hour exams but this ordeal had been way beyond anything I had ever experienced before.
But the assessment was now completed, I had answered all questions honestly and as completely as possible. I left that building spent and exhausted but I left believing that it would now only be a matter of time before any concerns about me would be dispelled and my grandson would be allowed to come home.
And the tired lamb lay down to rest dreaming of those promised morsels . . . but while she slept, worn and weary, unbeknownst to her, the darkness thickened like an incoming fog as it wrapped its cold and gloomy fingers around her.
If you're going through hell, keep going.- Winston Churchill
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