Bob Vickrey is no stranger to drama, and for someone who oversees the sticky situations that can arise when trying to help people who have been chronically homeless and addicted rebuild their shattered lives, that’s not a bad thing.
Vickrey is the facility director at WestCare Nevada’s Las Vegas Community Triage Center, a facility designed to aid the mentally ill, homeless and addicted.
It’s no secret that the substance abuse treatment and mental healthcare sector in Southern Nevada is often overwhelmed by the number of people seeking immediate crisis services versus the number of available facilities. This reality is exactly what the WestCare Community Triage Center and Community Involvement Center, 323 N. Maryland Parkway, was designed to combat.
According to Vickrey, the facility is designed to help alleviate overcrowding that hospital emergency rooms experience when first responders bring individuals there who need immediate detoxification and mental health attention. Rather, the new center will allow paramedics and police officers a place to transport individuals seeking mental crisis help. Following assessment, WestCare professionals will then either intake the patient or direct and facilitate the patient’s relocation to other facilities
The center, which opened in late 2015, is divided into two sections — a crisis portion and a community resources area — and will provide a variety of services. Among the services are: crisis management and detoxification services; prevention education; outreach; outpatient counseling; substance abuse outpatient treatment; mental health services; and assessment intake. WestCare Nevada is partially funded by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, Nevada’s Substance Abuse Prevention and Treatment Agency, Clark County, City of Las Vegas, the Veteran’s Administration, the state of Nevada, local area hospitals and the Nevada Division of Mental Health and Developmental Services.
There’s no such thing as an average day at the center, and nobody knows that more profoundly than Vickrey, who typically starts his days with a perimeter walk at 7 a.m., followed by a morning of accompanying nursing staff and case managers on rounds to check on the status of each patient, where they are in the process and where they will be going from that point on.
Today isn’t much different in that regard, except that much of his morning has been spent meeting with visitors from WestCare Arizona, who are looking to replicate what is being done at the facility. The assembly begins with a conference to discuss the enormity of such an undertaking, and is followed by a quick tour of the facility.
“There’s a great need for something like this in many communities,” Vickrey said. “We are hoping to be a model for others to see, that while, yes, it is a big undertaking, it’s doable.”
The facility currently has 51 beds, and after being open less than a week, is almost full.
“We could easily fill another 100 beds at this facility alone,” he said. “There’s just a tremendous need.”
The front lobby is a hubbub of clinical and medical professionals and clients, but even with the work buzzing all around them, Vickrey gets right down to the nuts and bolts of the facilities business, describing for his visitors what it is like when a client comes through the center’s doors.
“We want them to rest after intake. They’re beat down. They need it,” he said. “They’re screened with both nursing staff and technicians, followed by a shower, medications and then provided a bed. We have a big run board that details number of beds available, broken down by gender, bed number and clinical diagnosis. Everyone has a unique plan that is specific to them, and we know where everyone is in the process.”
On this day in late December, a male client approaches the front desk where Vickrey is standing as he waits for his Arizona guests to finish a tour of the facility. The man quietly leans over to tell Vickrey that a few women have attempted to enter into the bathroom to smoke cigarettes. Vickrey’s soft chuckle is almost immediate as he nods, smiles softly and thanks the man. Without hesitation he asks one of the girls behind the desk to check it out.
“They’re used to fighting for survival,” he said. “They know what it takes to make it happen on the streets so they’re going to test the fence and look for holes in the system. It’s how they’ve learned to survive.”
Vickrey doesn’t seem shaken in the least as a volley of problems and complaints begin to land at his feet.
“We’ve been open a matter of days,” he said. “It’s to be expected that we have to work out all of the kinks so problems like clogged toilets and missing office supplies are par for the course. We have to carry on as usual. Our clients need us, and we can’t allow anything, not even a few plumbing issues to impede their care.”
Vickrey, who teaches a communications course at UNLV in his spare time, manages and oversees the facility’s staff of case workers, clinicians, nurses and behavioral health technicians.
“It’s my job to get these very qualified people what they need to provide the highest level of excellence” he said. “They help keep me grounded. This is a calling, what we do. I think we’re all dedicated to serving our clients to the best of our abilities. That’s a team effort but it’s also a very individual, private commitment we each undertake daily.”
There’s no such thing as downtime with a position like Vickrey’s. He doesn’t often leave the facility before 6 p.m. and his cell phone is on and with him 24/7.
“If I’m needed here, no matter the hour, I’ll always come running,” he said with a smile.
Vickrey, a recovering alcoholic, believes that part of the reason he’s so effective in his position is that he’s committed himself to the lifestyle of recovery and to helping others find the solace that it can offer. He can barely contain the tears that brim at the corner of his eyes as he relays the story of a young woman who was brought to the facility the day that it opened.
She had been on the street for some time, and you could tell that things had been rough not just because of her bedraggled appearance, but because that vital light that lets others know that all is well had been leached from her eyes. But just two days later, after a shower, some good food and a few night’s sleep in a warm safe place, she started to resemble her true self. TheNo. 1 indicator that she was finding herself again, for Vickrey , was simple: she was smiling and an aura of hope permeated from her in waves.
“There has to be a door for people like her,” Vickrey said, trying in vain to clear his throat and vocal chords of the tear-tinged emotion that had threatened to spill over only moments prior. “I’m glad that WestCare can be a door for them. I’m the lucky guy on the other side that gets to watch lives change. What we offer is so much more than a warm bed, a shower or a hot meal. What we offer is hope.”