Paydirt
My fearless lawyer called me this morning.
"Have you ever actually read this protective order Renee filed?"
Um...no.
"Well, I just happen to have a certified copy here in my hand. Let me read you one of my favorite paragraphs."
Uh-oh.
In a nutshell--the Meal Ticket wrote out a sworn statement that db was physically and emotionally abusive to her and her four children, particularly so to her oldest son, and that he had physically and verbally threatened each of them.
Hot diggity damn.
True, he filed a police report against her the same day alleging she was drunk and throwing objects at him and Bob, but the police report is much less detailed and much less interesting. Not to mention he continues to deny there was ever any altercation between them. Really? So you make it a habit to run around filing false reports for assault?
Interesting.
At any rate, it makes me feel a little better about tomorrow morning's hearing. Not a lot, but a little. We're going to push for consolidation of this case and the motion to modify case--on the basis that we need a full trial to adequately explain just why I felt compelled to cut of db's visitation. If that doesn't happen, we'll present our case tomorrow and, if the judge feels it's absolutely necessary to allow db visitation, we're going to push for supervised visitation through the program down the street from me.
Hopefully things will go better tomorrow than they went yesterday at the new psych's office.
Suffice to say it was a waste of two hours and 30 bucks. We were kept waiting in the lobby for an hour and five minutes. When she finally surfaced, Dr. Hagatha took Bob aside for questioning on his own, which we could clearly hear. He answered all of her questions, but it was obvious (to us) that he was doing his best to give the "right" answers, not necessarily the true ones. Then she asked him if anyone at his school had ever tried to give him a pill, and if they did, what would he do? His first reply: "tell (teacher's name)," but she didn't understand him, and asked him "would you take it?" (Way to lead the kid.) "Um...yeah." Then she asked him if anyone had ever tried to get him to drink alcohol. Bob doesn't know what "alcohol" is. She clarified, "like beer or anything." His response: "no, kids can't drink beer." Good answer, kid. But I don't think he had a clue why this strange woman was asking him these questions. Neither did we. When she finally called us in, I tried to give her the 411, but she wasn't interested in listening. She kept saying "uh huh, uh huh, uh huh" and typing shit from a form into her computer. That doesn't say "I'm listening," that says "hurry the fuck up." When I tried to explain that I was feeling rushed through the interview, she went off on a tangent about how insurance only allows her to bill for 15 minutes but she's being such a humanitarian by giving us more than that. She made some comparison of Bob to a cat, which I didn't get at all. She talked 90 miles a second and her thoughts all ran together and neither of us could understand a fucking word she said. Then she got an attitude and suggested we try behavioral approaches instead of "looking for a quick fix with medication." I told her we're not stupid, we've tried behavioral approaches. Several, in fact. They don't work. She accused me of getting my information from the bipolarkids.com website. No, I get my information from reputable sources, like the AMA and NIMH and APA, thanks. She spent the brunt of the interview warning us of the various dangers of medication on kids under 6. I told her we understood all that and had resorted to medication as a last resort. In the end, I still don't think she actually recommended anything. When we checked out, she told the receptionist (right in front of me) "no return appointment."
What the fuck?
The whole experience just pissed me the fuck off. Maybe you think you're really good at reading people in 5 seconds or less, but it's not your job to pass judgment on me and refuse to listen to a damn thing I say. Especially when I'm here for my kid, not just for "a quick fix." We've been dealing with this for over a year. Quick fix, my ass.
I'm strongly considering taking Bob off all medication (he's currently only on Zoloft) and letting time and maturity take its course--or not. The bottom line is, it's all eventually going to come down to Bob either getting with the program or not, and he's the one who will ultimately have to deal with the consequences of his actions.
But I don't know how much longer I can wait for that. Right now, it's not just him who is affected by his actions. It's me, it's Ben, it's other kids, it's his teachers. It will continue to affect me and Ben for a very long time.
I don't want a quick fix. I want a fix, period.
Wish me luck tomorrow morning. I'm going to need it.
"Have you ever actually read this protective order Renee filed?"
Um...no.
"Well, I just happen to have a certified copy here in my hand. Let me read you one of my favorite paragraphs."
Uh-oh.
In a nutshell--the Meal Ticket wrote out a sworn statement that db was physically and emotionally abusive to her and her four children, particularly so to her oldest son, and that he had physically and verbally threatened each of them.
Hot diggity damn.
True, he filed a police report against her the same day alleging she was drunk and throwing objects at him and Bob, but the police report is much less detailed and much less interesting. Not to mention he continues to deny there was ever any altercation between them. Really? So you make it a habit to run around filing false reports for assault?
Interesting.
At any rate, it makes me feel a little better about tomorrow morning's hearing. Not a lot, but a little. We're going to push for consolidation of this case and the motion to modify case--on the basis that we need a full trial to adequately explain just why I felt compelled to cut of db's visitation. If that doesn't happen, we'll present our case tomorrow and, if the judge feels it's absolutely necessary to allow db visitation, we're going to push for supervised visitation through the program down the street from me.
Hopefully things will go better tomorrow than they went yesterday at the new psych's office.
Suffice to say it was a waste of two hours and 30 bucks. We were kept waiting in the lobby for an hour and five minutes. When she finally surfaced, Dr. Hagatha took Bob aside for questioning on his own, which we could clearly hear. He answered all of her questions, but it was obvious (to us) that he was doing his best to give the "right" answers, not necessarily the true ones. Then she asked him if anyone at his school had ever tried to give him a pill, and if they did, what would he do? His first reply: "tell (teacher's name)," but she didn't understand him, and asked him "would you take it?" (Way to lead the kid.) "Um...yeah." Then she asked him if anyone had ever tried to get him to drink alcohol. Bob doesn't know what "alcohol" is. She clarified, "like beer or anything." His response: "no, kids can't drink beer." Good answer, kid. But I don't think he had a clue why this strange woman was asking him these questions. Neither did we. When she finally called us in, I tried to give her the 411, but she wasn't interested in listening. She kept saying "uh huh, uh huh, uh huh" and typing shit from a form into her computer. That doesn't say "I'm listening," that says "hurry the fuck up." When I tried to explain that I was feeling rushed through the interview, she went off on a tangent about how insurance only allows her to bill for 15 minutes but she's being such a humanitarian by giving us more than that. She made some comparison of Bob to a cat, which I didn't get at all. She talked 90 miles a second and her thoughts all ran together and neither of us could understand a fucking word she said. Then she got an attitude and suggested we try behavioral approaches instead of "looking for a quick fix with medication." I told her we're not stupid, we've tried behavioral approaches. Several, in fact. They don't work. She accused me of getting my information from the bipolarkids.com website. No, I get my information from reputable sources, like the AMA and NIMH and APA, thanks. She spent the brunt of the interview warning us of the various dangers of medication on kids under 6. I told her we understood all that and had resorted to medication as a last resort. In the end, I still don't think she actually recommended anything. When we checked out, she told the receptionist (right in front of me) "no return appointment."
What the fuck?
The whole experience just pissed me the fuck off. Maybe you think you're really good at reading people in 5 seconds or less, but it's not your job to pass judgment on me and refuse to listen to a damn thing I say. Especially when I'm here for my kid, not just for "a quick fix." We've been dealing with this for over a year. Quick fix, my ass.
I'm strongly considering taking Bob off all medication (he's currently only on Zoloft) and letting time and maturity take its course--or not. The bottom line is, it's all eventually going to come down to Bob either getting with the program or not, and he's the one who will ultimately have to deal with the consequences of his actions.
But I don't know how much longer I can wait for that. Right now, it's not just him who is affected by his actions. It's me, it's Ben, it's other kids, it's his teachers. It will continue to affect me and Ben for a very long time.
I don't want a quick fix. I want a fix, period.
Wish me luck tomorrow morning. I'm going to need it.
posted by Mitzi Green at 9:01 PM
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