Carol McAlice Currie

Statesman Journal

It was important to Robert Elam, before he was hospitalized last month for six weeks, that he had put his past behind him and was starting anew. He was dependent on no one and able to pay his bills.

Now, he can't make either claim.

Working at a used-car lot on Lancaster Drive NE, Elam made about $100 commission on each previously-owned vehicle he sold, and scraped together enough cash each month to make the $410 rent on his micro-compact apartment.

He supplemented his thin income by borrowing a truck to pick up scrap metal from a variety of people and places, and selling it for cash. With this unbudgetable gain, he was able to get by and pay for his utilities. His only public assistance: food stamps for groceries.

It wasn't even a modest lifestyle by any definition, but the 46-year-old Salem man said he was "doing Ok" and more importantly, he was keeping to the terms of his parole. "I made some mistakes in my past, served my time and had been improving my life," Elam said.

That was until he was stricken in early June by a rare auto-immune disorder of the spinal cord known as "transverse myelitis (mi-e-lit-is)," and left paralyzed from about his breastbone down to his feet.

According to the Transverse Myelitis Association, TM is an immune system-related inflammatory attack of a person's spinal cord. Frequently, the inflammation has no clear cause and is referred to as idiopathic TM. The majority of cases are assumed to be post-infectious events because patients report bacterial or viral infections preceded their paralysis.

One day last month Elam, who likes to tell people his last name is "male spelled backward," was selling cars. The next day, he couldn't move any of his lower extremities.

Under the care of a neurologist at Salem Hospital, he was given high doses of steroids (a typical treatment), but he said he developed a blood clot, so that treatment was discontinued. He said he was then treated with plasmapheresis, or a plasma exchange, where they removed and discarded his plasma and gave him replacement plasma. He regained some strength after this procedure, but then his medical team added Bell's palsy, a facial paralysis and Type II diabetes to his diagnosis. He said for a time, he was afraid of each new day for fear another worry would come with it.

Now in a wheelchair supplied by the Oregon Health Plan, which also paid for his hospital and doctor expenses, medical transport and prescriptions (with the exception of a Sharps container for needle disposal), Elam said he's trying to stay optimistic while also facing head-on the possibility he might never walk again.

And then the thought he might not be able to stay in his apartment because he can no longer work to pay his rent hits again, and he has to stop and fight back tears.

Recently married to Stephanie Keys-Elam, whom he met online, the couple are still getting to know each other. She is from New Mexico, and they had been biding their time and maintaining a long-distance relationship until the terms of his parole were satisfied or he was approved for an interstate transfer with courtesy supervision. When he took ill, however, those goals were placed on hold, and she raced to Oregon to care for him.

She has now become a caseworker, medical assistant and metals seller. She juggles to keep all of Robert's conditions and their names fresh in her mind. She is learning the ropes of medical transport and insurance scheduling, and she also had a friend of Robert's help her tow a non-working sedan Robert had to a junk yard to get nearly $200 to pay down the rent owed.

Last week, she handed $189 to landlord Wes Wedner minus a few bucks she spent on herself to buy an iced tea during the heat wave. She shows him the receipt as proof, and apologizes repeatedly, telling him she's working to come up with the other half they owe. She frets that they won't be able to find the money. Wedner, who says he's had his own life battles and carries a few scars, is compassionate and understanding. He tells her softly that he's aware she has a lot on her plate at the moment. She, too, is on the verge of crying.

Standing on the gravel drive in front of Robert's studio, waiting to speak until after a freight train lumbers by, both of them are silently aware that eviction from the small unit across the street from the railroad tracks east of 13th Street SE will only add mental anxiety to Robert's physical burden. Wedner repeats that he is frustrated that there isn't a social safety net to make it easier for folks like Robert and his wife.

Wedner is not a typical landlord. With Elam already a few weeks behind on his rent, he didn't send overdue notices. Instead, he took up his tool box and helped widen Elam's door to a 36-inch width to accommodate his tenant/friend's new wheelchair.

"I don't want to evict him." Wedner said. "He's a good tenant and none of this was his fault. He shouldn't have to add looking for a new place to live on top of everything else he's going through. I'd like to see him stay put, but I run a business. I can't wait a half year for the federal government to decide he's disabled enough to qualify for SSI and cut him a check. Why don't we have something to help people in his situation?"

For its part, the Social Security Administration's regional office in Seattle says it has expedited Elam's claim. After Elam signed a release and authorized the SSA to discuss his records publicly with the Statesman Journal, Ann Mohageri, a spokeswoman for the Seattle SSA office, said the field office in Salem had recently spoken to Robert, accepted his application, and begun processing his claim.

Mohageri said a quick turnaround isn't typical, but because Elam's condition is rare, so, too, should its handling be. The SSA is now waiting for Salem Hospital to confirm Elam's diagnosis and condition.

Mark Glyzewski, Salem Health spokesman, said there is a set statutory period for responding to requests for information. He could not comment specifically on Elam's case because of health privacy laws. But he added: "If we are aware of a patient's urgent need to obtain the records, we make every effort to try and meet the patient's needs," Glyzewski said.

Once the hospital responds, SSA can then make a finding of "presumptive disability" in Elam's favor if it's confirmed via evidence (records) that his impairment, or combination of impairments, meets the Social Security Administration's definition of disability, and he meets all other eligibility requirements.

When this phase is completed, she said, Elam could receive up to six months of payments prior to the final determination of disability, which would allow Wedner to keep his tenant, and make life a little less stressful for Elam. If the hospital documents don't support Elam's version, Mohageri said they can be resubmitted to verify Elam's paraplegia.

Struggling to stay positive, Robert admits there have been many hours since his discharge when he has been ready to give over to despair. There have been times when it would be easy to feel sorry himself.

"But I just keep thanking Him that I'm still alive," Elam says, pointing up toward the heavens. "I've got some movement in my feet, so hopefully I won't be paralyzed for life. I refuse to believe it; just refuse."

Elam said he is clinging to hope after being told one-third of all transverse myelitis patients recover within a year to 18 month and walk again without assistance. Another third will walk with assistance and require the use a walker or cane. The final third will need to use a wheelchair for the rest of their lives.

Stephanie tries to hide her weariness as she apologizes for the condition of their little apartment. It has few windows, and one is heaving with a small room air conditioner that is struggling in the 95-degree heat to cool the room teeming with new and bulky medical equipment. A path to Elam's bed has been carved around a portable toilet, heavy temporary ramps for his wheelchair, which must be brought inside nightly to avoid theft, and a shower chair. Paperwork, prescriptions, laundry baskets and a flower pot occupy other small patches of space.

In the dark of his studio apartment, which vibrates with each passing train, Elam closes his bright blue eyes so they don't betray the pain he feels.

He is intimidated by the many obstacles he and Stephanie must overcome, but he staying upbeat, and is grateful that at least his life has been made richer by having a friend like Wedner.

"He's the best landlord ever, and I'm lucky to have him in my life."

ccurrie@statesmanjournal.com; (503) 399-6746 or follow on Twitter at @CATMCurrie