Some days I just cry

Before I talk about why I cry I would point out to anyone reading this blog that all the experts (and we are nearing the 40 person mark) are clear what I am experiencing with Sasha happens only a small percentage of the time. But it does happen. And so tonight I cry.

Ironically, historically I have not had much truck with criers. Maybe it was my Mom or maybe it was the marine dad but I always did that step up to the line and endure thing. And then my professional life has made me "battle hardened." And I generally do not find much in life that makes me sad enough to cry.

Watching Sasha suffer so much through each day makes me cry. This morning seemed like a good day. After watching wonder pets on Nic off he went to school. Within the hour I was called by the school to come get him because he was really flipping out. I literally ran to the school. There I comforted one of the student teachers who was with my mom. Things were calmer, maybe it would be okay. Then the paniced call came into the front office from the class room that he was flipping out again. Down the hall I ran. The teacher (who is totally wonderful) opened the door so that I could hear Sasha - he was snarling and then yelling he was a good boy - repeatedly. Please remember this is a kindergarten class. I get to the room and he is running to and from his "safe" place in the room while he is screaming. He sees me and escalates even further. He runs through the children seated on the floor trying to have a lesson while he is menancing them and screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally I nab the little bugger, put his hand in my pocket, apologize to his totally cool teacher and leave.

Sasha is screeching in the hallways - he has learned that the open spaces really magifiy the sounds of his outbursts. I take the nearest exit and sit on the stair so I can ask him why - why all the drama? All I get are snarls. My poor Mom she is often just pulled along in our dingy of insanity much like today. I walk Sasha to the truck and he momentarily becomes sane again - almost for no reason. That moment doesn't last long.

When we are home I work with him about the sad Sasha. The art therapy brings out in Sasha something that totally freaks me out. I personally would prefer to see monsters. Hell is not this bad.

But I nuture through it because I know we are seeing his doctor later today. So for awhile things marginally bump along. Then the whole doctor visit was a surreal experience. I have a permanent translator for Sasha assigned to all his medical appointments so at least that helps a little. But everything is so off the wall. It took us almost two hours for the doctor to listen to his lungs and heart. Mostly what we did was let him try to feel okay about the visit and then reschedule things like basic blood work to occur during his surgery. Sasha was so sweet, he kept shining every light in the room into his mouth so that the doctor could see, cause him some pain so that he would be free. When Meg refused to hurt him he started trying to hurt himself. Like if he has pain he is free. Oh my god, I had never seen life like that.

The need for immediate surgery is now driving all of us. Sasha had fairly extensive reconstructive surgery in country - all without bone grafts. I understand that those life saving surgeries in country gave Sasha a chance at life - I have seen the statistics and his weight doubled after those surgeries. What saved my son in Russia is now a problem. The doctors are not being explicit but even I get it from the idiot drawings they show me. Sasha is in trouble. So we all move. Quickly. And gently. It sort of reminds me of my offier training in the Air Force when we would practice a double time close march. We had the guy with the bugs bunny accent call it out because it was military and at some level we all understood as a call to survival.

And so that is why I cry. Sasha is in a double time close march concerning his physical well being. That close march has to occur irrespective of his state of sanity. He is so not ready for all of this. I am not ready.

But of course he must be. And I must be ready to. I looked in his mouth today and I think i saw temporary fillings in his teeth. I need to call our family dentist tomorrow. Oh my god.

Don't get me wrong I am not reactionary, I am just in a fast drill to save a child. I have been in that fast drill for over three years now. I am now just a little closer to the pain. That is not what makes me cry. What makes me cry is all the hurt Sasha manages through every day. Even when he is being that total monster, that is so not what he wants to be - in his eyes he is destroying the very life that he so wants. And he is so testing those in control as to see whether they will give up him. The paradigm is simple - the more he wants the more he destroys. The more he feels safe, the more he will act out so as to test those boundaries.

So I cry tonight. But I also feel better letting others know what rescuing a fully at risk child will entail. It requires your absolute dedication. And while I cry, I realize through the tears there are joys. The pain for your child just totally sucks.