Back Where We Started
I admitted Bob to yet another psych hospital yesterday.
It started with a phone call from school at 10:00am (a mere hour after I left him there) stating Bob had to leave because he "wasn't making safe choices." The official story is that he was "throwing scissors." He later admitted he was "trying to hit Mrs. Teacher in the eye with the scissors."
Fuck me.
I brought him to my office and although admittedly my own behavior probably didn't do anything to diffuse the situation (let's just say there were multiple 4-letter words thrown about in varying high decibel levels), but it became obvious he wasn't going to come out of it any too quickly. I wasn't as concerned with him emptying my trash can as I was the swinging about of my 3-hole punch. So when he went for the chair, I picked him up, put him in my chair, and sat on him while I looked up the address for the hospital. He voiced his disapproval by punching me in the back. (Which, with his tiny fists, actually felt pretty good on my seriously-knotted back muscles.)
He'll be there the standard 3-5 days, or until the insurance runs out. Or they need the bed for someone with better insurance. I really don't know what else might come of it other than he won't be able to hurt anyone (including himself) for the next 3-5 days.
Like I told Ben last night, I'm a little less shell-shocked this time around, and so I think I may be a little better able to process what I'm told and what's handed to me and not just blindly agree to his being administered four different psychotropic meds (all of which counter each other) at once or accusations by a therapist that we're to blame for Bob's issues. The staff here seem to be slightly more reputable than at the last facility. At least, they didn't spend an hour giving me a sales pitch on how great they were like the first place.
I don't know how I feel. I'm just kind of numb to it all. It is what it is. It sucks, but it is what it is.
The more irritating issue at hand is db's continued insistance that this is a school issue. He sent me an email (obviously ghostwritten by someone with slightly better grammar and spelling) "imploring me as Bob's mother" to demand the school district either "allow Bob to be placed in the resource room" or "have a paraprofessional assist him in the classroom during the day." What the fuck? Unless the "paraprofessional" is a 6'2", 250 pound black man capable of holding Bob down during his tantrums, I really don't see the point. Bob doesn't need a tutor. He's not acting out because he's frustrated by his lack of understanding of the schoolwork. He's acting out because he has a fucking biochemical fuckup in his brain, dumbass.
Ugh.
In happier news, my brother and his wife finally had their little girlie yesterday. Everyone send a shout out to Taylor Ann, and try to ignore the fact that her name is very similar to a women's clothing retailer.
It started with a phone call from school at 10:00am (a mere hour after I left him there) stating Bob had to leave because he "wasn't making safe choices." The official story is that he was "throwing scissors." He later admitted he was "trying to hit Mrs. Teacher in the eye with the scissors."
Fuck me.
I brought him to my office and although admittedly my own behavior probably didn't do anything to diffuse the situation (let's just say there were multiple 4-letter words thrown about in varying high decibel levels), but it became obvious he wasn't going to come out of it any too quickly. I wasn't as concerned with him emptying my trash can as I was the swinging about of my 3-hole punch. So when he went for the chair, I picked him up, put him in my chair, and sat on him while I looked up the address for the hospital. He voiced his disapproval by punching me in the back. (Which, with his tiny fists, actually felt pretty good on my seriously-knotted back muscles.)
He'll be there the standard 3-5 days, or until the insurance runs out. Or they need the bed for someone with better insurance. I really don't know what else might come of it other than he won't be able to hurt anyone (including himself) for the next 3-5 days.
Like I told Ben last night, I'm a little less shell-shocked this time around, and so I think I may be a little better able to process what I'm told and what's handed to me and not just blindly agree to his being administered four different psychotropic meds (all of which counter each other) at once or accusations by a therapist that we're to blame for Bob's issues. The staff here seem to be slightly more reputable than at the last facility. At least, they didn't spend an hour giving me a sales pitch on how great they were like the first place.
I don't know how I feel. I'm just kind of numb to it all. It is what it is. It sucks, but it is what it is.
The more irritating issue at hand is db's continued insistance that this is a school issue. He sent me an email (obviously ghostwritten by someone with slightly better grammar and spelling) "imploring me as Bob's mother" to demand the school district either "allow Bob to be placed in the resource room" or "have a paraprofessional assist him in the classroom during the day." What the fuck? Unless the "paraprofessional" is a 6'2", 250 pound black man capable of holding Bob down during his tantrums, I really don't see the point. Bob doesn't need a tutor. He's not acting out because he's frustrated by his lack of understanding of the schoolwork. He's acting out because he has a fucking biochemical fuckup in his brain, dumbass.
Ugh.
In happier news, my brother and his wife finally had their little girlie yesterday. Everyone send a shout out to Taylor Ann, and try to ignore the fact that her name is very similar to a women's clothing retailer.
posted by Mitzi Green at 7:07 AM
7 Comments:
Hugs to you Mitzi, Bob, and Ben. I know this was not an easy decision. I don't know what to say other then offer you more hugs and support.
Welcome to this crazy world little Taylor Ann.
MIchelle B.
(((((((((((((((HUGS))))))))))))))))))))
I am so sorry hun! I will keep you in prayers as always! My heart hurts for you, Really it does.
I am so sorry you had to admit him again. I'll keep you all in my thoughts, and send lots of cyber support.
Congrats on your niece :)
Kim
Maybe, just maybe, they will hit on something that works. You and yours are in my thoughts.
Joanie
Thinking of you!
You guys are in my thoughts nonstop. Hang in there.
Mitzi, keep trying until you find something that works, that's what I've had to do, though my circumstances are nearly as dire or drastic. It's good you see yourself in a better place this go-round and as for db's email - sure as shootin it was NOT written by him ... paraprofessional, does he even KNOW what that? Of course it's apparent to a parent with a heart and brain that more than likely Bob's outbursts are biochemical in nature ... db has shown time and time again he's not a parent, but an instigator and aggitator. He has charisma and I know how hard that is to top - especially when it's turned on, but as you know, the pattern of how you have been handling things and how db has been flaming the fire does come into play. Good luck in dealing with the new troupe of doctors and dealing with db once he learns Bob's been hospitalized again.
You're in my prayers,
Marcia
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