Friday, August 31, 2012
Maybe we do okay
Alex was normal today. The typical nine-year-old boy I had before this all happened.
Maybe normal life overtook him.
There are so many, many people that truly care about him in our daily life.
This week he spent most of his waking hours at my office. We check in at the guard station to begin our day. They all know him. There is a city policeman that emigrated from Russia that does extra shifts at our site that has always gone out of his way to help me with the kids. He was the one that told me to be prepared for Alex to swear like a sailor (or a marine) when he first came home. He is the one whose family gave me a place to stay in Russia while I was in the process of adopting Alex's sister. He always comes out to check on Alex and see if he is okay. He has been such an amazing support through all of this. When his mother-in-law came out last summer I missed her because I was sick but these are people that will stay with you always.
All the security staff know about us. They are so amazingly kind towards Alex. Many of them have done time in the military and have a firsthand knowledge about PTSD. To a person they go out of their way to be normal with him, yet so kind.
Alex notices. He quietly watches them and asks when they are allowed to go home. I think he feels seriously safe and treasured in a building surrounded by what he considers "policemen."
He then sits in my office while I pop in and out to deal with all the stuff I deal with. Sometimes people stop by to say hi to him. Mostly I just do what seems to a kid to be boring work. This afternoon I was supposed to leave early, and we were going to play at a public water work, but a couple of legal deadlines were dropped on my desk so the day got interesting. Alex watched me sweat through the stress and work and get it all done.
He walked with me through an empty office to confer with others while I coordinated the last minute filings.
He saw normal life. He did not complain.
Alex also saw a sweet Russian immigrant at my work who insists of speaking Russian to him. That amazing lady is so terribly kind to my son. She knows. Alex peeks up under his lashes to see if she is really that kind. She is.
So maybe we do okay. It is like the kid that came to our house late last May has left. My son a slightly, more happy version, is back. I don't know how we did it, but I think we all did.
It wasn't the recent doctors. I got the medical records from the residential treatment center and the fact that they spelled his name right is amazing. They got everything else wrong. Everything. I feel overwhelmed. Insurance fraud for sure. Medical malpractice definitely. I think we are not an isolated case for this kind of treatment by this facility. I wonder how others cope with them. These people have farms way far away that I think kids in the residential system are eventually transferred to - well outside of any caring adult sight.
I shudder to think what might have happened if Alex and I had not had an excellent communication system.
It was the rest of us that were there for Alex and he came back to himself. His long term treating doctors are back manning the helm and it is good. Family and friends continue to just be okay and help as we need. The school is doing an attempt to fix the problem they started. The better placement and additional support is good but the end of this week things have kind of lagged. I have my support staff at work on alert that I may be spending next week at Alex's new school until everything is okay. The team is good to go.
In the end, we do okay. All of us.
And maybe, just maybe we are all learning about the effects of bullying. It causes significant harm. It has to be stopped.
I told the school district this week that disfigured children are in harms way in their system and they need to address it. I told them in addition to Alex's situation I have seen a child literally turn around in a line and hit my daughter in the face - for no reason. And yes, I did something about that too.
When I began adopting cleft children, I did it because I wanted to help a special needs child. I innocently thought to myself when the first special needs child that God picked out for me was cleft, it was all about the medical issues. I did not realize the societal harm that I would be forced to fight and endure because I mothered a cleft child. I have learned differently. I still would not change my acceptance of the children God has bestowed upon me and our home. They are a blessing that is joyful every day.
I will stand and fight. My children are just kids, still so very young and hopeful of a happy life. They still believe they have a chance at life - because I believe.
Maybe we do okay. Everyone sleeps peaceably tonight and that is good enough for me.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Quick update on the bullying issue
The van driver that assaulted Alex last spring has been fired and put on a child abuse watch list.
The teacher aide that threw him to the ground last Spring before my horrified eyes, has been disciplined to the maximum extent possible under the strong teacher union rules and been given educational opportunities.
Others were reassigned. The school district is in the process of providing a full response about the original bullying complaint. The principal personally apologized to me and told me it had been delegated and then not addressed.
Alex is being given a lot of support to address no further harm happening to him.
Does it make up for this very difficult summer - no.
Do I think people are trying to stop it now - yes. Maybe.
Alex's most awesome psychologist is absolutely insisting on screening and training any daily assistant assigned to Alex for protection and assistance.
I told that august body of district people that the bullying stemmed from Alex's cleft palate situation and they need to address how disfigured children are not allowed to function in a normal school setting.
A lot of pieces swirl. I think none of us adults ever understood the human cost of being a severe cleft palate child. Regardless, Alex is right, it needs to stop.
I case I haven't said it recently, he is my hero. It was an awesome day when God let me be his mom.
The teacher aide that threw him to the ground last Spring before my horrified eyes, has been disciplined to the maximum extent possible under the strong teacher union rules and been given educational opportunities.
Others were reassigned. The school district is in the process of providing a full response about the original bullying complaint. The principal personally apologized to me and told me it had been delegated and then not addressed.
Alex is being given a lot of support to address no further harm happening to him.
Does it make up for this very difficult summer - no.
Do I think people are trying to stop it now - yes. Maybe.
Alex's most awesome psychologist is absolutely insisting on screening and training any daily assistant assigned to Alex for protection and assistance.
I told that august body of district people that the bullying stemmed from Alex's cleft palate situation and they need to address how disfigured children are not allowed to function in a normal school setting.
A lot of pieces swirl. I think none of us adults ever understood the human cost of being a severe cleft palate child. Regardless, Alex is right, it needs to stop.
I case I haven't said it recently, he is my hero. It was an awesome day when God let me be his mom.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
How to be a Mom
It is a job I have been preparing for all my life. I was also lucky and had amazing parents. It is still a tricky job - sort of like balancing on a high beam several stories high, holding onto that silly balance pole and the beam is smothered in melting butter. And you are juggling not just your life the the lives of everyone in the family.
No doubt, Moms have it tough.
I physcially went into my office today and talked to my boss about a potential long term vacation from work. We also talked about how I am personally moving toward a management position standing. Lots of things were left up in the air.
After awhile I went to meet with the school district folks with Alex in tow. I have to say, they brought their A-team. It was a room filled with lots of education, knowledge and years of practical experience. They were professional, knowledgeable and caring.
I heard how the bullying complaint was inadvertantly left unresolved. I heard how a teacher's aide throwing Alex to the ground during schools hours, before my eyes was dealt with, in only a general sense but it was within Union rules and something happened.
No doubt the room was stacked. Legal counsel was there and I must say she is what a I would call a legal battle axe. If possible, I would love to litigate, on the same side, with that woman. She takes takes no prisioners which is kind of my professional approach too. I liked her immediately. I also understood she was on the other side today - maybe.
Then there was the head district special ed person as well as the elementary school principal, special ed teacher and speech therapist. There was one other mucky-muck but I am not sure what she did.
We talked about things. Not the disaster this summer has been or the Salt Lake option but the "what if" option of Alex going back to school next week. Here, at home.
There were lots of good things talked about. They gave up Alex getting additional ESL since he basically hasn't got it for years. We talked about keeping him safe and giving him academics.
Music to a Mother's ears. They asked me what I needed when they placed him. His teacher from last year was so helpful. It is like what my mama's heart feels may be true. It is just an emotional corner we need to turn with Alex, and then everything will be okay. He will begin to cope again.
I do not know. So I keep moving the Salt Lake option forward. I also work on getting the kids back to school next week and making our lives "normal."
That a-team of school professionals were moms today. I went home and talked lots with my own mom. I will now spend the rest of the week taking Alex to his outside peeps and talk with them too.
Maybe we just put him in school next week and see how it goes. The director of special ed asked me today if there was a pattern to the emergency room visits. I noted we always have a Sunday blowout and often a Friday one after he comes home.
And maybe Alex just is coping with a lot of daily life. We all think is it easy. It is not. With the bullying, Alex's ability to cope may have just gone seriously awry.
So it is tough being a Mom. Lots to sort out. There is so much to consider as I weigh the options. I am lucky I have lots of people to look to for help. I am also super duper lucky because I have options to actually weigh - that is not always the case for many situations.
I think all of us were on the same page today - to the extent possible. Alex needs to remain in normal mainstream life. We are going to put supports in place so he can learn to do things like ride the school bus. Isolating him either at home or in a treatment setting will simply delay his entry into the rest of his life.
Today was a good exercise in how to be a Mom.
No doubt, Moms have it tough.
I physcially went into my office today and talked to my boss about a potential long term vacation from work. We also talked about how I am personally moving toward a management position standing. Lots of things were left up in the air.
After awhile I went to meet with the school district folks with Alex in tow. I have to say, they brought their A-team. It was a room filled with lots of education, knowledge and years of practical experience. They were professional, knowledgeable and caring.
I heard how the bullying complaint was inadvertantly left unresolved. I heard how a teacher's aide throwing Alex to the ground during schools hours, before my eyes was dealt with, in only a general sense but it was within Union rules and something happened.
No doubt the room was stacked. Legal counsel was there and I must say she is what a I would call a legal battle axe. If possible, I would love to litigate, on the same side, with that woman. She takes takes no prisioners which is kind of my professional approach too. I liked her immediately. I also understood she was on the other side today - maybe.
Then there was the head district special ed person as well as the elementary school principal, special ed teacher and speech therapist. There was one other mucky-muck but I am not sure what she did.
We talked about things. Not the disaster this summer has been or the Salt Lake option but the "what if" option of Alex going back to school next week. Here, at home.
There were lots of good things talked about. They gave up Alex getting additional ESL since he basically hasn't got it for years. We talked about keeping him safe and giving him academics.
Music to a Mother's ears. They asked me what I needed when they placed him. His teacher from last year was so helpful. It is like what my mama's heart feels may be true. It is just an emotional corner we need to turn with Alex, and then everything will be okay. He will begin to cope again.
I do not know. So I keep moving the Salt Lake option forward. I also work on getting the kids back to school next week and making our lives "normal."
That a-team of school professionals were moms today. I went home and talked lots with my own mom. I will now spend the rest of the week taking Alex to his outside peeps and talk with them too.
Maybe we just put him in school next week and see how it goes. The director of special ed asked me today if there was a pattern to the emergency room visits. I noted we always have a Sunday blowout and often a Friday one after he comes home.
And maybe Alex just is coping with a lot of daily life. We all think is it easy. It is not. With the bullying, Alex's ability to cope may have just gone seriously awry.
So it is tough being a Mom. Lots to sort out. There is so much to consider as I weigh the options. I am lucky I have lots of people to look to for help. I am also super duper lucky because I have options to actually weigh - that is not always the case for many situations.
I think all of us were on the same page today - to the extent possible. Alex needs to remain in normal mainstream life. We are going to put supports in place so he can learn to do things like ride the school bus. Isolating him either at home or in a treatment setting will simply delay his entry into the rest of his life.
Today was a good exercise in how to be a Mom.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Getting ready to go
When I started this blog I was going to tell people what it was like to go get your child in Russia. What it is today is how one Mother came to nurture her child. Against all odds. Against what sometimes seems like everything.
So we get ready to go. To another state. A severe disruption of our family and our life. Me, the ultimate plan-change planner is floundering. We have a really good life despite all the stuff that happened this summer.
The out-of-state day program we are going is asking for basically an end-of-year committment. I talked at them about how I could only maybe gurantee a month committment but at the end of the day we will all do what Alex needs.
I silently weep I as gently convince my beloved daughter she will be better here are home, starting school next week while I fly far away. She has to go to school and simply cannot miss half of the first grade. My dear little girl is happy to stay home and go to school in our normal life. I am already missing her terribly.
Frankly, I could not do it if she was not with my Mom. I still grieve and worry. I may not be there for her first day of school. I will not be there to make her lunches every day and make sure she wears clothing that will not get her teased. My daughter is in the only elementary school Russian emmersion program in the country. I am proud but the program is full of Russians so the standards are high. I am already nagging my Mom about hair and appropriate dress. And getting the homework done. It is all so important in this transplanted cultural setting.
I will meet with a new IEP school district team for Alex, my miralce, in a few hours. They were the people that began the problem. I wonder what they think they are going to tell me to do. I wonder to what extent they will align their position to the medical one.
There is no mistake at this point, the medical people control the decisions. They are trying to figure out the best answer for Alex. Alex remains an interesting kid suffering PTSD.
I think sometimes Alex is doing all he can, since the bullying resurrected his monsters, to figure out a way to vanquish them. Alex is a healthy child trying to make all the ickiness go away. He pushes on our life to see who else can help. I think he ultimately trusts I will keep finding ways to help while he keeps being socially inappropriate in seeking release from the pain. Alex remains my miracle child.
He will prevail. He will find the people to help him feel safe. Until then he will continue to pick up sticks, and otherwise arm himself, while we walk down the street. I am proud of him. He has learned to say no to abuse and he will prevail in getting what he needs to be whole.
So we get ready to go. To another state. A severe disruption of our family and our life. Me, the ultimate plan-change planner is floundering. We have a really good life despite all the stuff that happened this summer.
The out-of-state day program we are going is asking for basically an end-of-year committment. I talked at them about how I could only maybe gurantee a month committment but at the end of the day we will all do what Alex needs.
I silently weep I as gently convince my beloved daughter she will be better here are home, starting school next week while I fly far away. She has to go to school and simply cannot miss half of the first grade. My dear little girl is happy to stay home and go to school in our normal life. I am already missing her terribly.
Frankly, I could not do it if she was not with my Mom. I still grieve and worry. I may not be there for her first day of school. I will not be there to make her lunches every day and make sure she wears clothing that will not get her teased. My daughter is in the only elementary school Russian emmersion program in the country. I am proud but the program is full of Russians so the standards are high. I am already nagging my Mom about hair and appropriate dress. And getting the homework done. It is all so important in this transplanted cultural setting.
I will meet with a new IEP school district team for Alex, my miralce, in a few hours. They were the people that began the problem. I wonder what they think they are going to tell me to do. I wonder to what extent they will align their position to the medical one.
There is no mistake at this point, the medical people control the decisions. They are trying to figure out the best answer for Alex. Alex remains an interesting kid suffering PTSD.
I think sometimes Alex is doing all he can, since the bullying resurrected his monsters, to figure out a way to vanquish them. Alex is a healthy child trying to make all the ickiness go away. He pushes on our life to see who else can help. I think he ultimately trusts I will keep finding ways to help while he keeps being socially inappropriate in seeking release from the pain. Alex remains my miracle child.
He will prevail. He will find the people to help him feel safe. Until then he will continue to pick up sticks, and otherwise arm himself, while we walk down the street. I am proud of him. He has learned to say no to abuse and he will prevail in getting what he needs to be whole.
Monday, August 27, 2012
I have to admit I am sad (and then I looked back at all the happy times)
There are some really sweet posts in 2009 that are only a small sampling of how happy this family has been since I found my miracle in Russia. We have been happy for years and a model family. We were the American ideal of familial bliss.
That may be what is making this all so hard. I think that if there had been years of true difficulty, the current situation would not be so unexpected and hard to cope with. Yet, the bullying Alex received at school last spring brought us all to a very dark place where the monsters dwell. When the kids were allowed to hit him daily and then threaten him with a knife daily, it was too much. Something happened. When a male school aide threw him to the ground something happened. Alex mentally went away from me and his family. We were no longer safe. Thus began this summer.
Alex woke up today, ready to run. He was belligerent and was so angry at all of us. He attempted to pick fights. He told me when I turned my back that I should be glad because he could have run but did not. Then he told me he might the next time. I cannot even walk the to end of a room much less into another. Alex is ready to begin the running and violence. He is so ready to make us leave him.
My Mom and I got ready. His little sister attempted to scold him to no avail. I called neighbors to get ready. And then counted down the time. I had given him his morning meds so I was terrified to administer the heavy med the docs had prescribed on Friday. I asked everyone to wait two hours. And then three. And then four hours. We were in the middle of the afternoon danger zone when Alex normally explosively escalates and I looked into his eyes. He was ready to kick holes in the walls in order to get out of this house and go.
I gave him the medicine. Then I panicked and quickly gave him Benedryl because this medicine has caused severe dystonic reactions in Alex complete with severe neck and body contortions and severe hallucinations. As I did I then sat down, and my Mom asked me to stop crying. I just cannot help myself. There are so many reasons I cry of course.
I am terrified to do anything thing, by word or deed, that may destroy my son. I am also so deeply mad at everyone that has made all this happen. I am even madder at the people that are supposed to help but only make it worse despite me and others paying a lot of money to them.
I hate being the one to decide whether or not to give that pill. I so hate it that after he takes it I check on him constantly. I do not believe in this but I need to save my son and this is the best they offer today.
Mostly, I miss my son. My awesome little boy. My hero. He is pushing everything about his life away. The wreckage is starting to pile up. It has been months now and the medical inventions have caused further significant harm resulting in further isolating behavior by Alex.
So I went out and harvested the wild organic garlic I have been growing in the yard this year. It will be a welcome addition to my Mom's fall cooking. I also trimmed the lavendar and roses, starting to get ready for fall. I nailed up portions of the back fence that keep the possums and raccoons out of the backyard so that while my Mom watches the dogs when the rest of us are gone to Utah to help Alex she will not have a problem.
I have been trying to get the family as ready as possible for moving to another state in order to get help for Alex. I can be so silly sometimes, I keep trying to wash everything, like that will make us ready. :)
Ultimately, I think Alex is desparate for help. He is desparate to make the monsters go away. He is like a kid running away from them, overturning everything in his path looking for an shield or a weapon. He is looking for a way to make them go away. In the beginning I made the monsters leave. With the bullying, they came back and I did not make them leave in time. Unfortunately, the monsters became real so now it is a different game.
So I am so sad. And I am tired and financially at a limit. But then I look back to the happy times. In our living room is an entire wall decorated with pictures of the family - a happy family. I look at that wall and I see all the many, many times we were simply filled with joy as a family. I even see the picture Alex took of me in the Moscow airport at the end of our first trip to meet his sister - I was so tired and so somber about what I saw but I was still happy because my son was taking my picture while I was sipping a latte and waiting for our plane in a super modern airport.
Then I look at Alex's picture on the living room wall in that same airport, happily eating a peanut butter sandwich and grinning so openly. His sense of being in a safe world was so deeply entrenched that even going where we went to spend time with his sister did not matter. We are a happy family. We love each other. We even enjoy spending time together - adopting. It is a family tradition.
What happened to my son has been a terrible thing. It is taking a terrible toll on us - he, I, the family and our support network. I begin to suspect that people thought they could not do right by my son and I would just let it go - I would call it enough.
I refused to say I was done. This is my son. He may break my heart over and over again but I love the little guy.
And so we go. A happy family dealing with a difficult issue.
That may be what is making this all so hard. I think that if there had been years of true difficulty, the current situation would not be so unexpected and hard to cope with. Yet, the bullying Alex received at school last spring brought us all to a very dark place where the monsters dwell. When the kids were allowed to hit him daily and then threaten him with a knife daily, it was too much. Something happened. When a male school aide threw him to the ground something happened. Alex mentally went away from me and his family. We were no longer safe. Thus began this summer.
Alex woke up today, ready to run. He was belligerent and was so angry at all of us. He attempted to pick fights. He told me when I turned my back that I should be glad because he could have run but did not. Then he told me he might the next time. I cannot even walk the to end of a room much less into another. Alex is ready to begin the running and violence. He is so ready to make us leave him.
My Mom and I got ready. His little sister attempted to scold him to no avail. I called neighbors to get ready. And then counted down the time. I had given him his morning meds so I was terrified to administer the heavy med the docs had prescribed on Friday. I asked everyone to wait two hours. And then three. And then four hours. We were in the middle of the afternoon danger zone when Alex normally explosively escalates and I looked into his eyes. He was ready to kick holes in the walls in order to get out of this house and go.
I gave him the medicine. Then I panicked and quickly gave him Benedryl because this medicine has caused severe dystonic reactions in Alex complete with severe neck and body contortions and severe hallucinations. As I did I then sat down, and my Mom asked me to stop crying. I just cannot help myself. There are so many reasons I cry of course.
I am terrified to do anything thing, by word or deed, that may destroy my son. I am also so deeply mad at everyone that has made all this happen. I am even madder at the people that are supposed to help but only make it worse despite me and others paying a lot of money to them.
I hate being the one to decide whether or not to give that pill. I so hate it that after he takes it I check on him constantly. I do not believe in this but I need to save my son and this is the best they offer today.
Mostly, I miss my son. My awesome little boy. My hero. He is pushing everything about his life away. The wreckage is starting to pile up. It has been months now and the medical inventions have caused further significant harm resulting in further isolating behavior by Alex.
So I went out and harvested the wild organic garlic I have been growing in the yard this year. It will be a welcome addition to my Mom's fall cooking. I also trimmed the lavendar and roses, starting to get ready for fall. I nailed up portions of the back fence that keep the possums and raccoons out of the backyard so that while my Mom watches the dogs when the rest of us are gone to Utah to help Alex she will not have a problem.
I have been trying to get the family as ready as possible for moving to another state in order to get help for Alex. I can be so silly sometimes, I keep trying to wash everything, like that will make us ready. :)
Ultimately, I think Alex is desparate for help. He is desparate to make the monsters go away. He is like a kid running away from them, overturning everything in his path looking for an shield or a weapon. He is looking for a way to make them go away. In the beginning I made the monsters leave. With the bullying, they came back and I did not make them leave in time. Unfortunately, the monsters became real so now it is a different game.
So I am so sad. And I am tired and financially at a limit. But then I look back to the happy times. In our living room is an entire wall decorated with pictures of the family - a happy family. I look at that wall and I see all the many, many times we were simply filled with joy as a family. I even see the picture Alex took of me in the Moscow airport at the end of our first trip to meet his sister - I was so tired and so somber about what I saw but I was still happy because my son was taking my picture while I was sipping a latte and waiting for our plane in a super modern airport.
Then I look at Alex's picture on the living room wall in that same airport, happily eating a peanut butter sandwich and grinning so openly. His sense of being in a safe world was so deeply entrenched that even going where we went to spend time with his sister did not matter. We are a happy family. We love each other. We even enjoy spending time together - adopting. It is a family tradition.
What happened to my son has been a terrible thing. It is taking a terrible toll on us - he, I, the family and our support network. I begin to suspect that people thought they could not do right by my son and I would just let it go - I would call it enough.
I refused to say I was done. This is my son. He may break my heart over and over again but I love the little guy.
And so we go. A happy family dealing with a difficult issue.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
A different perspective
I think even I get caught up in the drama and I keep forgetting to talk about all the people helping my son, the miracle I found in Russia, get the help he so desparately wants. There are a lot of us. There is me of course, the family and the neighbors that always come to help.
Alex is desparate for help. He cannot stop thinking about the negative things. He tells me he is worthless. He wants the doctors to make it better much like they made his cleft palate situation so much better. Alex wants help now. There are a lot of people trying to get him that help.
Start with our medical insurance. They have worked with me and the doctors to find the best treatment center for young kids suffering severe PTSD that allow a strong family support system for a child that they can use going through treatment. We found it and it is in the valley I was born. It is a culture that strongly supports the welfare of a child.
Then there are all the other people.
Today was a day Alex ran and started throwing rocks. I got the call late today that the treatment program we are going to in Salt Lake City still doesn't have a place for him yet. Within an hour of me getting that call, Alex was out the door throwing rocks and attempting to escalate violence.
I after I got my top back on (I was in my bedroom changing clothes), I told him I would call and started the calls. I called the mental health crisis team. They then called the police.
I chased Alex through the neighborhood until the police came. I have a really bad cold that may already have become pneumonia but I kept up with him. The police officer that came was the one that had taken Alex's statement when a school van driver had hit him last spring (I know, I know, lots of people apparently hit Alex).
She was awesome. She did not call for back-up, she was able to walk him back to her squad car quietly. but of course she first met Alex as a victim of violence so she had a different perspective. Image if all victims of harm were treated as that, victims. She was absolutely amazing with him. She kept him calm even in his violent state.
The paramedics came and loaded him calmly into their vehicle. I jumped into the front. The driver had been there before and was so cool about it all. We rolled into the ED for the children's hospital and two of three security, or public safety, guards knew Alex and met us as he was unloaded. They wheeled him back and then entire ED team was familiar with Alex and his issues.
I told them the situation. They worked with me about medication, deescalation and getting him home. It is Friday night and they were also getting true emergencies in, but they made him their first priority.
They offered me solitary lockdown for Alex, for the weekend, if I wanted it. They also called in meds to the local pharamcy if I wanted to take him home. All us knew he should just go home. So we did the meds, he scarily did not go to sleep and then four of us hauled him out to my car that my mom was driving kicking and screaming. He totally calmed within 30 seconds of my Mom driving away from the hopsital which is what I told them would happen. And then we went home and Alex went to sleep.
I do not know if Alex will do this whole drill again tomorrow. The medical people were giving me real time instructions on how to medicate him in order to keep him home and out of the solitary confinement.
We are all trying so hard to help him. Alex has suffered damage. Alex is suffering from perception and processing delays. That is becoming clear. Is his reasoning delayed or eschew due to trauma or something else, it is not clear.
My different perspective is this - there are a lot of people stepping up to help this child. They see he is suffering and they want to help him, just like me. I also think that Alex is seeing the world from an odd angle. I do not know if it is just twisted by trauma or if there is something else that is further accentuating the trauma perspective.
What I know is that there are a lot people trying to help. From the pink-fingernailed painted police officer to the tobacco chew spitting paramedic, then onto the intense faced hospital security supervisor and her laidback and vastly more Alex-experienced officers. Then there are the nurses both hard as nails and yet so heart soft. The volunteers that are there to help the kids are so sweet as they play games with him and try to help him calm. Then there are the doctors, trying so hard to make the right decisions. I think often feel the worse for them - medical doctors trying to help a mental health crisis.
So we are home tonight. Alex sleeps. I scramble around the edges of our family life and try to figure out how we all move a couple of states to help Alex. Because moving we will do. Things are in process and I am trying to figure out what else can be done and what I must ask others.
Life is kind of on its head right now but it is like one of my neighbors said when we were watching the police officer walk Alex back today, "if God brings you to it, he will give you the strength to endure." Amen.
That is exactly right.
God has, and will, give me the strength to endure what Alex must do.
And our family life goes on. Dogs are loved, cats are fed, and my mom makes her soup stock on the stove tonight after I cut up vegetables and added way more garlic for her. We continue to have different ideas about cooking but my stuff generally tastes better so she usually winds up agreeing with me.
I guess I will wait and see what tomorrow brings.
Alex is desparate for help. He cannot stop thinking about the negative things. He tells me he is worthless. He wants the doctors to make it better much like they made his cleft palate situation so much better. Alex wants help now. There are a lot of people trying to get him that help.
Start with our medical insurance. They have worked with me and the doctors to find the best treatment center for young kids suffering severe PTSD that allow a strong family support system for a child that they can use going through treatment. We found it and it is in the valley I was born. It is a culture that strongly supports the welfare of a child.
Then there are all the other people.
Today was a day Alex ran and started throwing rocks. I got the call late today that the treatment program we are going to in Salt Lake City still doesn't have a place for him yet. Within an hour of me getting that call, Alex was out the door throwing rocks and attempting to escalate violence.
I after I got my top back on (I was in my bedroom changing clothes), I told him I would call and started the calls. I called the mental health crisis team. They then called the police.
I chased Alex through the neighborhood until the police came. I have a really bad cold that may already have become pneumonia but I kept up with him. The police officer that came was the one that had taken Alex's statement when a school van driver had hit him last spring (I know, I know, lots of people apparently hit Alex).
She was awesome. She did not call for back-up, she was able to walk him back to her squad car quietly. but of course she first met Alex as a victim of violence so she had a different perspective. Image if all victims of harm were treated as that, victims. She was absolutely amazing with him. She kept him calm even in his violent state.
The paramedics came and loaded him calmly into their vehicle. I jumped into the front. The driver had been there before and was so cool about it all. We rolled into the ED for the children's hospital and two of three security, or public safety, guards knew Alex and met us as he was unloaded. They wheeled him back and then entire ED team was familiar with Alex and his issues.
I told them the situation. They worked with me about medication, deescalation and getting him home. It is Friday night and they were also getting true emergencies in, but they made him their first priority.
They offered me solitary lockdown for Alex, for the weekend, if I wanted it. They also called in meds to the local pharamcy if I wanted to take him home. All us knew he should just go home. So we did the meds, he scarily did not go to sleep and then four of us hauled him out to my car that my mom was driving kicking and screaming. He totally calmed within 30 seconds of my Mom driving away from the hopsital which is what I told them would happen. And then we went home and Alex went to sleep.
I do not know if Alex will do this whole drill again tomorrow. The medical people were giving me real time instructions on how to medicate him in order to keep him home and out of the solitary confinement.
We are all trying so hard to help him. Alex has suffered damage. Alex is suffering from perception and processing delays. That is becoming clear. Is his reasoning delayed or eschew due to trauma or something else, it is not clear.
My different perspective is this - there are a lot of people stepping up to help this child. They see he is suffering and they want to help him, just like me. I also think that Alex is seeing the world from an odd angle. I do not know if it is just twisted by trauma or if there is something else that is further accentuating the trauma perspective.
What I know is that there are a lot people trying to help. From the pink-fingernailed painted police officer to the tobacco chew spitting paramedic, then onto the intense faced hospital security supervisor and her laidback and vastly more Alex-experienced officers. Then there are the nurses both hard as nails and yet so heart soft. The volunteers that are there to help the kids are so sweet as they play games with him and try to help him calm. Then there are the doctors, trying so hard to make the right decisions. I think often feel the worse for them - medical doctors trying to help a mental health crisis.
So we are home tonight. Alex sleeps. I scramble around the edges of our family life and try to figure out how we all move a couple of states to help Alex. Because moving we will do. Things are in process and I am trying to figure out what else can be done and what I must ask others.
Life is kind of on its head right now but it is like one of my neighbors said when we were watching the police officer walk Alex back today, "if God brings you to it, he will give you the strength to endure." Amen.
That is exactly right.
God has, and will, give me the strength to endure what Alex must do.
And our family life goes on. Dogs are loved, cats are fed, and my mom makes her soup stock on the stove tonight after I cut up vegetables and added way more garlic for her. We continue to have different ideas about cooking but my stuff generally tastes better so she usually winds up agreeing with me.
I guess I will wait and see what tomorrow brings.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
What to do next, that is the question
We did the Child Protective Services initial investigation today.
And I worked on weighing medical options while juggling works issues from home.
I am watching all the experts and people sit down, try to help, but are waiting for someone to have an answer. We all feel the pressure of damage and time. We all feel the pressure to make the right choice. This child cannot take one more oops.
My cold seems to be sinking into pneumonia and my Mom is not happy. I am resigned that I will now be fairly sick through all of this. I caught a bacteria pneumonia from a foster child inbetween trips two and three to bring my daughter home. That round lasted almost a year and I was as stress free and able to lay down unlike this year.
What to do next is the question. Something serious has happened to Alex and he is exhibiting all the signs of additional sexual trauma. It makes for an explosive situation. It is like sitting on a powder keg in the middle of the house and we are all feeling the stress. We cannot stand it but it is not safe to go out.
The remaining local treatment options do not seem sufficient. The family is talking about a long distance option (and insurance has hinted at it) that may help and would include family interactive therapy. This option takes an excellent approach to severe PTSD in young children.
This option causes such additional stress on the home situation because so many things have been ignored while I concentrated on Alex this summer. But we love him so much, I would count it all well lost if we just saved Alex. It is still hard to see the peeling paint on my house and know the rains are coming. I literally cannot leave the house to protect it. I begin to be at a loss.
I am not a fool. I realize my still young son may already be on that so very dangerous path that leads to incarcertation.
I watch him appear to move in and out of flashbacks - one moment everything is fine and then it is not. And nothing happened to make everything not okay. He is experiencing random occurrances of flashbacks that are uncontrollable. The stress of watching is starting to get to me.
And Alex continues to attempt to find ways to erupt. And then sometimes he overcompensates to avoid eruption triggers.
I think that we are in a very delicate time right now. What we decide to do next needs to be the right choice.
I also remain mad about our life being so aschew. That is a healthy and normal perspective. I will see what can be done to work with insurance concerning the long distance option.
And I worked on weighing medical options while juggling works issues from home.
I am watching all the experts and people sit down, try to help, but are waiting for someone to have an answer. We all feel the pressure of damage and time. We all feel the pressure to make the right choice. This child cannot take one more oops.
My cold seems to be sinking into pneumonia and my Mom is not happy. I am resigned that I will now be fairly sick through all of this. I caught a bacteria pneumonia from a foster child inbetween trips two and three to bring my daughter home. That round lasted almost a year and I was as stress free and able to lay down unlike this year.
What to do next is the question. Something serious has happened to Alex and he is exhibiting all the signs of additional sexual trauma. It makes for an explosive situation. It is like sitting on a powder keg in the middle of the house and we are all feeling the stress. We cannot stand it but it is not safe to go out.
The remaining local treatment options do not seem sufficient. The family is talking about a long distance option (and insurance has hinted at it) that may help and would include family interactive therapy. This option takes an excellent approach to severe PTSD in young children.
This option causes such additional stress on the home situation because so many things have been ignored while I concentrated on Alex this summer. But we love him so much, I would count it all well lost if we just saved Alex. It is still hard to see the peeling paint on my house and know the rains are coming. I literally cannot leave the house to protect it. I begin to be at a loss.
I am not a fool. I realize my still young son may already be on that so very dangerous path that leads to incarcertation.
I watch him appear to move in and out of flashbacks - one moment everything is fine and then it is not. And nothing happened to make everything not okay. He is experiencing random occurrances of flashbacks that are uncontrollable. The stress of watching is starting to get to me.
And Alex continues to attempt to find ways to erupt. And then sometimes he overcompensates to avoid eruption triggers.
I think that we are in a very delicate time right now. What we decide to do next needs to be the right choice.
I also remain mad about our life being so aschew. That is a healthy and normal perspective. I will see what can be done to work with insurance concerning the long distance option.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
What a day - the family hunkers down
I woke up with a terrible, terrible cold today. I could barely speak. And there were so many calls to make today. I called in sick because I could not even image trying to get up today. But of course I had to do things.
Apparently life gets really complicated when a Mom allows their child to be committed to residential treatment against her best judgment, the child reports abuse, it is not addressed, the abuse escalates and the Mom then pulls her child from the harming environment and finds out even more.
It is also not okay for a residental treatment facility to tell you that sexual abuse of your child is a risk of treatment. Lots of people have been ringing in on that statement alone. Lots and lots of the specialists have been simply shocked that I have been repeatedly told that.
Interestingly, others have been silent. Trillium or Parry Center for Children, the day treatment and then residential treatment providers are the ones that have been the most open that they consider what happened to Alex a simply risk of treatment. They are a place where no child should ever go. They see harm to a child okay and no big deal.
I thank the good Lord that no one else is willing to concur with that statement. Nobody. Nobody else thinks further harming an already tortured child is to be considered a risk of treatment.
All parents of severely harmed children expect our children to be safe during treatment. Part of Trillium's argument to me, the outside doctors and insurance was that Alex would be more safe in their program that they now have told me has a risk of abuse as a part of treatment and that is to be simply expected.
I think all the other professionals are in a state of shock. Even the children's hospital where we go to when Alex is transported to the ER were of the firm opinion that the Trillium people would offer Alex either the option to return to day treatment or other in-home care. Instead, Trillium confirmed today that Alex had been closed out of all their systems. Their words, not mine.
I thank God for their hard stance. I think they may actaully kill my child with their brand of care. I am already fighting a lot harder to save him after their interaction with him. He is already so fragile, he cannot sustain more harm. If they had offered care, I would have been obligated to try and work with it.
As it is, I am already worrying about who will renew his medications, that are so expensive, next month.
That being said, people are trying to get something in place to help Alex. That being said, he is sitting home, in a lot of mental and emotional pain.
When the mental health crisis line took the call on Sunday about Alex being the middle of a PTSD flashback, they were all so supportive about how he should have not been subjected to further abuse. The police officers that were called in by the mental health crisis team already onsite were awesome even when Alex was threatening them with grabbing their guns and using them against them.
It goes back to what Alex keeps telling me when I press him about it all - he cannot stand being happy. He will destroy himself and us, his family, because he feels unworthy.
I hear what he says. Until I can get him safe therapy, I give him what he wants. Sort of. I tell him I will make him unhappy (of course I won't). I tell I will punish if he continues to act out (of course I won't). I take away his freedom of movement and his socks and shoes. I use harsh tones with him and it makes my heart bleed. I make him stay in the kitchen while I cook and take him with me whenever I leave a room. It is an approach with a quick expiration date, I would agree. Yet, I will do anything to keep him safe and alive. He is my most beloved son.
His sweet little sister started putting her hand up today and told us to stop arguing. She told me to stop hurting Alex. (Harsh words are considered hurting in my home). I took her aside and explained Alex keeps running and the police keep having to come because he wants me act like this but it is just pretend. I told her that babushka (my mom who now lives with us) would never let me be anything other than a good mama. I told her we had made him too happy during the zoo visit so he just had to act out. My wise little girl, she got it immediately and stopped being worried. Her time in the Russian pysch ward was well spent.
So the family hunkers down. My son desparately needs our love but feels so unworthy. It is not RAD, it is what he was taught to believe before he came home. It is because he is so connected to us that he would destroy it all. He struggles with being loved. He is stubborn and he has such a strong will.
He will use any power structure or any physical weapon he can find to drive me off. I think he may be losing faith in finding any outside help whether it be a rock, stick, doctor, policeman or hospital setting. That does not mean that he will cease trying.
Yet, it is too late for this family in some respects. We are so bonded. We are so determined to be there for one another. We will endure.
If I thought it was RAD (reactive attachment disorder) or FAS (fetal alcholol syndrome) I would be the first to hit the bell and talk about it all. If was anything else, I would talk about that too.
I went to Russia to find my son. I found him. The people that watched over him blessed us with their efforts and care. They gave me my son. And Alex will be okay. He is home with his family.
Apparently life gets really complicated when a Mom allows their child to be committed to residential treatment against her best judgment, the child reports abuse, it is not addressed, the abuse escalates and the Mom then pulls her child from the harming environment and finds out even more.
It is also not okay for a residental treatment facility to tell you that sexual abuse of your child is a risk of treatment. Lots of people have been ringing in on that statement alone. Lots and lots of the specialists have been simply shocked that I have been repeatedly told that.
Interestingly, others have been silent. Trillium or Parry Center for Children, the day treatment and then residential treatment providers are the ones that have been the most open that they consider what happened to Alex a simply risk of treatment. They are a place where no child should ever go. They see harm to a child okay and no big deal.
I thank the good Lord that no one else is willing to concur with that statement. Nobody. Nobody else thinks further harming an already tortured child is to be considered a risk of treatment.
All parents of severely harmed children expect our children to be safe during treatment. Part of Trillium's argument to me, the outside doctors and insurance was that Alex would be more safe in their program that they now have told me has a risk of abuse as a part of treatment and that is to be simply expected.
I think all the other professionals are in a state of shock. Even the children's hospital where we go to when Alex is transported to the ER were of the firm opinion that the Trillium people would offer Alex either the option to return to day treatment or other in-home care. Instead, Trillium confirmed today that Alex had been closed out of all their systems. Their words, not mine.
I thank God for their hard stance. I think they may actaully kill my child with their brand of care. I am already fighting a lot harder to save him after their interaction with him. He is already so fragile, he cannot sustain more harm. If they had offered care, I would have been obligated to try and work with it.
As it is, I am already worrying about who will renew his medications, that are so expensive, next month.
That being said, people are trying to get something in place to help Alex. That being said, he is sitting home, in a lot of mental and emotional pain.
When the mental health crisis line took the call on Sunday about Alex being the middle of a PTSD flashback, they were all so supportive about how he should have not been subjected to further abuse. The police officers that were called in by the mental health crisis team already onsite were awesome even when Alex was threatening them with grabbing their guns and using them against them.
It goes back to what Alex keeps telling me when I press him about it all - he cannot stand being happy. He will destroy himself and us, his family, because he feels unworthy.
I hear what he says. Until I can get him safe therapy, I give him what he wants. Sort of. I tell him I will make him unhappy (of course I won't). I tell I will punish if he continues to act out (of course I won't). I take away his freedom of movement and his socks and shoes. I use harsh tones with him and it makes my heart bleed. I make him stay in the kitchen while I cook and take him with me whenever I leave a room. It is an approach with a quick expiration date, I would agree. Yet, I will do anything to keep him safe and alive. He is my most beloved son.
His sweet little sister started putting her hand up today and told us to stop arguing. She told me to stop hurting Alex. (Harsh words are considered hurting in my home). I took her aside and explained Alex keeps running and the police keep having to come because he wants me act like this but it is just pretend. I told her that babushka (my mom who now lives with us) would never let me be anything other than a good mama. I told her we had made him too happy during the zoo visit so he just had to act out. My wise little girl, she got it immediately and stopped being worried. Her time in the Russian pysch ward was well spent.
So the family hunkers down. My son desparately needs our love but feels so unworthy. It is not RAD, it is what he was taught to believe before he came home. It is because he is so connected to us that he would destroy it all. He struggles with being loved. He is stubborn and he has such a strong will.
He will use any power structure or any physical weapon he can find to drive me off. I think he may be losing faith in finding any outside help whether it be a rock, stick, doctor, policeman or hospital setting. That does not mean that he will cease trying.
Yet, it is too late for this family in some respects. We are so bonded. We are so determined to be there for one another. We will endure.
If I thought it was RAD (reactive attachment disorder) or FAS (fetal alcholol syndrome) I would be the first to hit the bell and talk about it all. If was anything else, I would talk about that too.
I went to Russia to find my son. I found him. The people that watched over him blessed us with their efforts and care. They gave me my son. And Alex will be okay. He is home with his family.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Another day, another trip to the Emergency Room
It was such a great day. We went to the zoo. My family went with a good friend and the young daughter of another friend. My kids adore that little girl and she adores them. We saw many of the animals. We fed and petted parrots. Alex kept trying to get them to land on his hand and got pecked instead. He laughed about it all. The kids pounded drums and bells in the African section. The kids brushed the goats in the petting zoo. I pushed them in the zoo cart when they felt too lazy to walk to the next exhibit. Pictures were taken. There was an awesome train ride throughout entire park structure. Alex and I looked into the upper canopy of the avery after lunch marveling at all the most amazing birds. It was a very happy day.
Then we came home. I started to take a nap while Alex got on the computer but then I got back up. Something did not feel right. I saw him begin to become agitated. I started dinner and watched him. After awhile I called our county mental health crisis line. A first for us but all the professionals have been advocating it if at all possible before calling 911. They came and assessed Alex. They called the police.
Alex was literally in the middle of a PTSD flashback related mostly likely to what he had experienced during the intreatment last week given what appeared to surround the agitation and what he was saying.
To the children's hospital we went. Alex was so cooperative and he even let me set in the back with him. We get to ER and everyone "does the room clear drill" and gets ready to administer the medication. I know all the people now except one nurse that was assigned to us tonight but she had been there last week and knew the history. Alex's rages in the ER are losing any heat or harm.
I told them all what was going on about his admittance to residential treatment, the abuse he suffered there, how it was handled and how I went in and took him home against medical advice in order to keep him safe. Nobody argued with me. They just told me to keep bringing him back to the ER and they would do what they could.
We have now been there so many times, the ENTs no longer have to say his name when calling them about arrival, they just say that a nine-year-old is being transported for behavior issues. They all know it is Alex. They all know I am fighting to save him. They also know he is the safest with me.
So we did the medication drill and then went home after he was totally asleep.
It was nice to have the mental health crisis team get here today and confirm that Alex was literally in the middle of a PTSD flashback while the situation was disintegrating.
The children's hospital is convinced that the day treatment portion of the facility that committed Alex to residental will take him back tomorrow. They seemed a little lost that Trillium had not already given me this option when I picked Alex up Friday night.
I do not know, we will see.
The situation just needs to be what it needs to be for Alex. No more harm. And at the heart of everything, I think Alex is working out what it means to have a mom. The behavior is not good, I will grant you that. Given he was abandoned by an adoptive mom in Russia who told him to wait until she came back, Alex has a lot of safety and mom issues all tangled together.
So I do not where we go from here. I do know that I will get up in a few hours and start working on an answer again. I hear Alex moaning in his sleep. I think must go and hold him for awhile. My sweetheart of a son.
Then we came home. I started to take a nap while Alex got on the computer but then I got back up. Something did not feel right. I saw him begin to become agitated. I started dinner and watched him. After awhile I called our county mental health crisis line. A first for us but all the professionals have been advocating it if at all possible before calling 911. They came and assessed Alex. They called the police.
Alex was literally in the middle of a PTSD flashback related mostly likely to what he had experienced during the intreatment last week given what appeared to surround the agitation and what he was saying.
To the children's hospital we went. Alex was so cooperative and he even let me set in the back with him. We get to ER and everyone "does the room clear drill" and gets ready to administer the medication. I know all the people now except one nurse that was assigned to us tonight but she had been there last week and knew the history. Alex's rages in the ER are losing any heat or harm.
I told them all what was going on about his admittance to residential treatment, the abuse he suffered there, how it was handled and how I went in and took him home against medical advice in order to keep him safe. Nobody argued with me. They just told me to keep bringing him back to the ER and they would do what they could.
We have now been there so many times, the ENTs no longer have to say his name when calling them about arrival, they just say that a nine-year-old is being transported for behavior issues. They all know it is Alex. They all know I am fighting to save him. They also know he is the safest with me.
So we did the medication drill and then went home after he was totally asleep.
It was nice to have the mental health crisis team get here today and confirm that Alex was literally in the middle of a PTSD flashback while the situation was disintegrating.
The children's hospital is convinced that the day treatment portion of the facility that committed Alex to residental will take him back tomorrow. They seemed a little lost that Trillium had not already given me this option when I picked Alex up Friday night.
I do not know, we will see.
The situation just needs to be what it needs to be for Alex. No more harm. And at the heart of everything, I think Alex is working out what it means to have a mom. The behavior is not good, I will grant you that. Given he was abandoned by an adoptive mom in Russia who told him to wait until she came back, Alex has a lot of safety and mom issues all tangled together.
So I do not where we go from here. I do know that I will get up in a few hours and start working on an answer again. I hear Alex moaning in his sleep. I think must go and hold him for awhile. My sweetheart of a son.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Quiet day today
A no problem day. Imagine that. No drama. No upset. Just tension on my part.
But I was right, there is no systemic problem with Alex. There is no PTSD happening. There is no mis-medication. He is mentally and emotionally stable.
He is a little boy with an anger problem that he chooses to turn on at will and then it gets away from him. I remember this guy from when he first was home. That kid sure could rage. He is also a kid that has now suffered new abuse, had burns to his hands and had a newly reconstructed cheek hit with either a fist or a rock. I am not sure if it has caused further harm or gave him a reality check.
Alex is glad to be home. He is already asleep in his grandmother's room with his dog and his superhero who keeps the monsters away at his side. No rocking. No huddling under the covers, drenched in sweat. That is how I found him last night.
Tomorrow we go with friends to the zoo. A normal life.
I do not know what the week will bring but we will get through it.
I also think that the day treatment program and then their inpatient unit attempted to escalate Alex for financial gain. The day treatment program made it seem like there was a problem at home and that medications were being arbitrarily administered without the direction of a doctor. That was not true. Alex has a long term psychiatrist that was working on the medication issued messed up by an earlier system. Alex also seemed to have triggered more from day treatment than anything else. All the outside professionals saw Alex as stabilizing and normal.
These people in the day/in-treatments system stood to make a lot of money. I have good insurance. My mom already did a rough calculation about how much they stood to make. Two other close friends did the same and gave me figures unsolicited.
The in-treatment facility didn't report the initial abuse of Alex but reported the subsequent acting out about it. They took away all the therapeutic supports that were successfully addressing his PTSD and nightmares and left a toy in the room with him that they told him would only wake up at night and come alive. A boy who suffers nightmares. Given a toy that only comes alive after he sleeps. omg. Since I, and outside doctors, had been clear about what was working there could have been no mistake.
Since coming home Alex has given that toy to his sister to see if it is true. Daria is a seriously well-grounded kid that does not scare easily or allow things that may harm her anywhere near. Daria has parked that potentially harmful toy next to the computer of their grandmother, my mom. They know that my mom will pound it into smithereens if it even blinks at her. The kids are very wise.
Another friend noted that if this was a deliberate attempt to illegally incarcerate Alex in a mental ward, that it was a pattern of behavior that other families are suffering. These people are targeting families and their support system that is often exhausted and at its last effort. They target families desperate for a break. There is little respite for dealing with an angry child. My support system has yet to be fully activated. There was no real need yet. There is plenty of help and respite left in reserve.
These day/in-treatment people also lied to me and Alex's outside doctors. They told us they only wanted to put him into a 24/7 setting for observation and medication stabilization. What they told insurance was they intended Alex to be in their facility for months. And months and months and months.
There was no reason for that except for fraud.
They never meant for me to see what they were doing to Alex. They thought I would be like a lot of parents and walk away, grateful for the break. They did not anticipate that Alex and I are closely bonded and he would tell me when a child was sexually inappropriate towards him or tell about the other things going on.
I adopted my son knowing what it might mean. I finalized that adoption intentionally. All the while Alex raged throughout it. I have already spent years dealing with the hurt angry child. My break point came and went about eight months after he was home. That was a very long time ago. He and I made our deal with each other long ago. These people are years too late to victimize us.
My son is in the process of coming to terms with his past and what he is today. He is not ready to tell us about it all. Yet. Ironically, his original surname was that of a well-known Russian leader and rebel. That long ago man was from the steppes and was charismatic. That long ago guy almost toppled a tsarist regime long before there was a soviet or collective dream in Russia. My son is that kind of soon to be man. He is what he is from. He is one stubborn little boy that attempts to assert his will upon everyone. He is a typical Russian boy wanting to be a man.
In the news today there was a story about three Russian feminist musicians sentenced to two years in prison for singing anti-Putin songs in a Russian orthodox church. They remained rebellious behind the plexi-glass and heavily guarded wall during sentencing. It is a tough and complex culture. That is the culture of my kids and it shapes them even today.
The fact that Alex was bullied for being a cleft child at school and I did not stop it soon enough last spring has made some of what are already difficult issues to resolve for him even more explosive.
Ultimately Alex is a survivor. But he will always take the difficult path to resolution. He is the kind of kid that puts a parent on the edge of their seat - whether to jump up and help and protect or to move out of the way of incoming projectiles I am not always sure. But he is worth it. Always.
And maybe tomorrow I will call 911, climb up into a paramedic unit and we will go back to the ER. But if and when we do I will tell them all, including the police that told me not to let him go to Trillium, about what happened.
By refusing to be silent we can all make it stop.
When people need help, they just need help. They do not need to victimized. God gave me my son for safekeeping. But for me he would be lost.
Tomorrow we will all go to the zoo. It will be fun.
But I was right, there is no systemic problem with Alex. There is no PTSD happening. There is no mis-medication. He is mentally and emotionally stable.
He is a little boy with an anger problem that he chooses to turn on at will and then it gets away from him. I remember this guy from when he first was home. That kid sure could rage. He is also a kid that has now suffered new abuse, had burns to his hands and had a newly reconstructed cheek hit with either a fist or a rock. I am not sure if it has caused further harm or gave him a reality check.
Alex is glad to be home. He is already asleep in his grandmother's room with his dog and his superhero who keeps the monsters away at his side. No rocking. No huddling under the covers, drenched in sweat. That is how I found him last night.
Tomorrow we go with friends to the zoo. A normal life.
I do not know what the week will bring but we will get through it.
I also think that the day treatment program and then their inpatient unit attempted to escalate Alex for financial gain. The day treatment program made it seem like there was a problem at home and that medications were being arbitrarily administered without the direction of a doctor. That was not true. Alex has a long term psychiatrist that was working on the medication issued messed up by an earlier system. Alex also seemed to have triggered more from day treatment than anything else. All the outside professionals saw Alex as stabilizing and normal.
These people in the day/in-treatments system stood to make a lot of money. I have good insurance. My mom already did a rough calculation about how much they stood to make. Two other close friends did the same and gave me figures unsolicited.
The in-treatment facility didn't report the initial abuse of Alex but reported the subsequent acting out about it. They took away all the therapeutic supports that were successfully addressing his PTSD and nightmares and left a toy in the room with him that they told him would only wake up at night and come alive. A boy who suffers nightmares. Given a toy that only comes alive after he sleeps. omg. Since I, and outside doctors, had been clear about what was working there could have been no mistake.
Since coming home Alex has given that toy to his sister to see if it is true. Daria is a seriously well-grounded kid that does not scare easily or allow things that may harm her anywhere near. Daria has parked that potentially harmful toy next to the computer of their grandmother, my mom. They know that my mom will pound it into smithereens if it even blinks at her. The kids are very wise.
Another friend noted that if this was a deliberate attempt to illegally incarcerate Alex in a mental ward, that it was a pattern of behavior that other families are suffering. These people are targeting families and their support system that is often exhausted and at its last effort. They target families desperate for a break. There is little respite for dealing with an angry child. My support system has yet to be fully activated. There was no real need yet. There is plenty of help and respite left in reserve.
These day/in-treatment people also lied to me and Alex's outside doctors. They told us they only wanted to put him into a 24/7 setting for observation and medication stabilization. What they told insurance was they intended Alex to be in their facility for months. And months and months and months.
There was no reason for that except for fraud.
They never meant for me to see what they were doing to Alex. They thought I would be like a lot of parents and walk away, grateful for the break. They did not anticipate that Alex and I are closely bonded and he would tell me when a child was sexually inappropriate towards him or tell about the other things going on.
I adopted my son knowing what it might mean. I finalized that adoption intentionally. All the while Alex raged throughout it. I have already spent years dealing with the hurt angry child. My break point came and went about eight months after he was home. That was a very long time ago. He and I made our deal with each other long ago. These people are years too late to victimize us.
My son is in the process of coming to terms with his past and what he is today. He is not ready to tell us about it all. Yet. Ironically, his original surname was that of a well-known Russian leader and rebel. That long ago man was from the steppes and was charismatic. That long ago guy almost toppled a tsarist regime long before there was a soviet or collective dream in Russia. My son is that kind of soon to be man. He is what he is from. He is one stubborn little boy that attempts to assert his will upon everyone. He is a typical Russian boy wanting to be a man.
In the news today there was a story about three Russian feminist musicians sentenced to two years in prison for singing anti-Putin songs in a Russian orthodox church. They remained rebellious behind the plexi-glass and heavily guarded wall during sentencing. It is a tough and complex culture. That is the culture of my kids and it shapes them even today.
The fact that Alex was bullied for being a cleft child at school and I did not stop it soon enough last spring has made some of what are already difficult issues to resolve for him even more explosive.
Ultimately Alex is a survivor. But he will always take the difficult path to resolution. He is the kind of kid that puts a parent on the edge of their seat - whether to jump up and help and protect or to move out of the way of incoming projectiles I am not always sure. But he is worth it. Always.
And maybe tomorrow I will call 911, climb up into a paramedic unit and we will go back to the ER. But if and when we do I will tell them all, including the police that told me not to let him go to Trillium, about what happened.
By refusing to be silent we can all make it stop.
When people need help, they just need help. They do not need to victimized. God gave me my son for safekeeping. But for me he would be lost.
Tomorrow we will all go to the zoo. It will be fun.
So I went and got my son
When I called the place about spending the night after Alex asked me too, they said I was free to either be there or take him home. At any time. Guess what I chose? It is way easier to drive down the street for a few minutes than circle the globe to rescue a child. I was in the car as I was hanging up the phone.
I went and got my son from the place that could not keep him safe. I told them I was coming and to get his meds ready. I turned on a mobile microphone was I walked onto the property.
When I got to the unit, the door to his room was propped open (a facility safety violation): he was huddled in the middle of the bed with the covers over him and the lights on. He was in the midst of a violent nightmare. No body cared. All the therapeutic supports other doctors had put in place to deal with his PTSD and nightmares were absent.
Alex was hard to rouse. When I did he was not in pull-ups which he needs for the nightmares which literally scare him to death. They scare me to death too.
I packed hurriedly but calmly while trying to Alex to rouse. At some point a person came in to confront me and tell me I was being too loud and she tried to escalate me into active confrontation. I refused to comply. I moved to the front of unit and waited for his meds that I orignally sent with him and to sign him out.
They stalled. And continued to stall. I signed the paperwork with a slight adjustment. Then they could not find his shoes. They could not find the med bottles. And they continued to stall. The person in the car waiting for us with the engine running called me and told me there were other cars arriving. And they were not the police. We were on private property and I was worried.
I took that call and started for the door. I said I would come for his meds tomorrow.
They first attempted to move to block me and then halted. They then said they would help us out. I told Alex to get the rolling bag and move, we were ready to go. Alex moved. He was also ready to leave this place that wasn't safe.
Then we got in the car and drove away. Within literally two minutes of us leaving that private property they called me to say they had found his meds and to come back. I said we would be back first thing in the morning.
As we drove home Alex was feeling wierd and wanting to vomit. I tried to call the unit back and they were back on voicemail.
When I got Alex back home, he told me that the abrasion on his newly reconstructed cheek was from a rock being thrown at him. His hands have severe burns on them from what I am not sure.
They attempted to say I removed him from harm against medical advice. I do not know but him suffering sexual abuse, having damage done to a newly reconstructed cheek and suffering severe burns on his hands do not seem like good medical advice.
Alex may get up tomorrow and escalate so that I have to call the police, have him transported and deal with ER fallout. I do know this - in that senario he will not be helplessly subjected to sexual abuse, or be being phsycially significantly damaged.
Nobody should ever tell me that my son being sexually abused is a "risk of treatment." Especially since they never even bothered to learn his name. So I went and got my son. He sleeps without nightmare tonight.
I went and got my son from the place that could not keep him safe. I told them I was coming and to get his meds ready. I turned on a mobile microphone was I walked onto the property.
When I got to the unit, the door to his room was propped open (a facility safety violation): he was huddled in the middle of the bed with the covers over him and the lights on. He was in the midst of a violent nightmare. No body cared. All the therapeutic supports other doctors had put in place to deal with his PTSD and nightmares were absent.
Alex was hard to rouse. When I did he was not in pull-ups which he needs for the nightmares which literally scare him to death. They scare me to death too.
I packed hurriedly but calmly while trying to Alex to rouse. At some point a person came in to confront me and tell me I was being too loud and she tried to escalate me into active confrontation. I refused to comply. I moved to the front of unit and waited for his meds that I orignally sent with him and to sign him out.
They stalled. And continued to stall. I signed the paperwork with a slight adjustment. Then they could not find his shoes. They could not find the med bottles. And they continued to stall. The person in the car waiting for us with the engine running called me and told me there were other cars arriving. And they were not the police. We were on private property and I was worried.
I took that call and started for the door. I said I would come for his meds tomorrow.
They first attempted to move to block me and then halted. They then said they would help us out. I told Alex to get the rolling bag and move, we were ready to go. Alex moved. He was also ready to leave this place that wasn't safe.
Then we got in the car and drove away. Within literally two minutes of us leaving that private property they called me to say they had found his meds and to come back. I said we would be back first thing in the morning.
As we drove home Alex was feeling wierd and wanting to vomit. I tried to call the unit back and they were back on voicemail.
When I got Alex back home, he told me that the abrasion on his newly reconstructed cheek was from a rock being thrown at him. His hands have severe burns on them from what I am not sure.
They attempted to say I removed him from harm against medical advice. I do not know but him suffering sexual abuse, having damage done to a newly reconstructed cheek and suffering severe burns on his hands do not seem like good medical advice.
Alex may get up tomorrow and escalate so that I have to call the police, have him transported and deal with ER fallout. I do know this - in that senario he will not be helplessly subjected to sexual abuse, or be being phsycially significantly damaged.
Nobody should ever tell me that my son being sexually abused is a "risk of treatment." Especially since they never even bothered to learn his name. So I went and got my son. He sleeps without nightmare tonight.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Mandatory Reporting and harm
I met with the treatment coordinator for Alex today. He was unaware that Alex had been subjected sexually inappropriate behavior either Tuesday and/or Wednesday and that I had made sure to report it to the facility. Instead he told me there had been some kind of play that had gotten out of hand yesterday and escalated to a point where they reported Alex to the state hotline for inappropriate behavior. This guy was pretty okay with sexual harm happening to my child. He said that was the risk of treatment (that I had objected to!). He said they would do what they could but there were no promises that Alex would be safe. He said the team would talk about it on Monday.
If sexualized behavior was in Alex's grab bag of issues, I would be up front about it and tell. Alex is the kind of kid that is very careful with his personal space and that of others. I had been able to give him back that sense of innocence.
So, after a long meeting with this gentleman, I asked to see my kid. They cleared the unit and let me visit him for awhile. He smelled funny. He was eating some super sweet candy. He was on serious high alert. He had been punched in eye so hard his cheekbone was bruised and cut. I asked him what happened and he said he had fallen.
I remember seeing that kind of abrasion on the face of a kid - it was in the orphanage. It was on the face of an unknown kid that pleaded with me to take him away from that place too. I saw that same cut on Alex's face today.
I read him a story from a cat book I brought. He laughed manically and his eyes were unfocused. He had piled all his clothing in a corner and was hiding things under them. He had things hidden on his bed. At some point he made me sit on his bed and he covered me up and then pretended I was his bed. He told me I could not leave. He laid on me and called me his lumpy pillow. It seemed so odd. This is not my son. He is also so hoarse I am sure he has done further significant damage to his vocal cords from screaming. Alex screamed a lot his first year home and I have never heard him this hoarse, almost unable to talk.
A nurse came in to give him his meds twenty minutes late. I asked Alex if he wanted to come home. He said no. He was so agitated and started jumping about. He took a round thing and gyrated against it. I said to stop, that is something we do not do. Alex said okay and took my hand to lead me out of the unit.
I found a staff member to make sure Alex was safe. I think he is not. I have called the unit several times and all I get is voice mails.
I was once a foster mom and I am a mandatory reporter concerning the abuse of children. I got home and pulled out some training materials about what sexual molestation looks like in a child. I then called the hotline and made a report. This is a state furlough day due to lack of state funds so it is more than likely nothing will be done until Monday even though I spoke with a real person.
When I was a foster mom I remember so many times answering my phone late on a Friday with case workers desperate to find a safe place for a child that night. That hotline is often the first step in getting kids safe. It is basically unmanned tonight with record hot temperatures on a Friday night. I worry for the kids.
And I still cannot get anyone on the line at the in treatment center.
I think I remain inconsolable. Harm is happening to my son and I can do nothing about it. He should so not be there.
If sexualized behavior was in Alex's grab bag of issues, I would be up front about it and tell. Alex is the kind of kid that is very careful with his personal space and that of others. I had been able to give him back that sense of innocence.
So, after a long meeting with this gentleman, I asked to see my kid. They cleared the unit and let me visit him for awhile. He smelled funny. He was eating some super sweet candy. He was on serious high alert. He had been punched in eye so hard his cheekbone was bruised and cut. I asked him what happened and he said he had fallen.
I remember seeing that kind of abrasion on the face of a kid - it was in the orphanage. It was on the face of an unknown kid that pleaded with me to take him away from that place too. I saw that same cut on Alex's face today.
I read him a story from a cat book I brought. He laughed manically and his eyes were unfocused. He had piled all his clothing in a corner and was hiding things under them. He had things hidden on his bed. At some point he made me sit on his bed and he covered me up and then pretended I was his bed. He told me I could not leave. He laid on me and called me his lumpy pillow. It seemed so odd. This is not my son. He is also so hoarse I am sure he has done further significant damage to his vocal cords from screaming. Alex screamed a lot his first year home and I have never heard him this hoarse, almost unable to talk.
A nurse came in to give him his meds twenty minutes late. I asked Alex if he wanted to come home. He said no. He was so agitated and started jumping about. He took a round thing and gyrated against it. I said to stop, that is something we do not do. Alex said okay and took my hand to lead me out of the unit.
I found a staff member to make sure Alex was safe. I think he is not. I have called the unit several times and all I get is voice mails.
I was once a foster mom and I am a mandatory reporter concerning the abuse of children. I got home and pulled out some training materials about what sexual molestation looks like in a child. I then called the hotline and made a report. This is a state furlough day due to lack of state funds so it is more than likely nothing will be done until Monday even though I spoke with a real person.
When I was a foster mom I remember so many times answering my phone late on a Friday with case workers desperate to find a safe place for a child that night. That hotline is often the first step in getting kids safe. It is basically unmanned tonight with record hot temperatures on a Friday night. I worry for the kids.
And I still cannot get anyone on the line at the in treatment center.
I think I remain inconsolable. Harm is happening to my son and I can do nothing about it. He should so not be there.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
How we protect kids who have been harmed - TB exposure - Sexual predators allowed and given free access to traumatized kids
I
am just so
sad. I cannot stop crying.
Late yesterday, Alex's
pediatrician's office was contacted about the TB issue I discussed at length
during admittance. The pediatrician's office relayed the same information I did
at intake and then gave conditions and other options to the treatment center.
Their nurses' office called me and talked about it all but they still seemed
lost. At least they agreed that the pediatrician can administer the blood draw
option if necessary and it will not happen until I am there. They have also
sent this apparently difficult question to their medical director.
Idiots. Alex would not have
been granted citizenship if we hadn't done the TB piece exactly correct
according to international law. Years ago!!! The then treating private
physicians punted the issue originally to a governmental entity so as to make
sure everything was done exactly correct.
90%
of children in orphanages
have been exposed to TB and test positive. If the test is disclosed during the
adoption, a child is subject to medical intervention. It is kind of a standard
issue for an international adoption.
The sacrifices a grieving
parent must make.
Then there was first a call
from Alex tonight. He was playful, dithered a bit and then he told me another
kid had exposed himself to Alex. Alex is scared. He will not sleep. He has
found hell again. He cannot even ask me to come and save him again. Personally
I am brought back to that which I saw and heard in the first visit to hell. May
God protect my son. He is telling me and I am telling the people there who
currently attempt to keep him safe. I am now having the waking nightmares that
he has. May God help us.
Then there was another call
from the unit. I told them about some of the night issues - enough to get Alex
through the night. In about three sentences. I gave them the roadmap to try and
keep my son safe tonight. It is a hard thing to not be able just go and make
sure he is safe. A sexual predator has already targeted my son and I cannot
stop it. I must rely upon others. Alex already knows the people there cannot
keep him safe. They did not even know the sexual predator had already started
his game towards Alex.
Then they told me he did not
sleep until almost 4 am this morning and was in restraint holds several times
during the night. I told them to get ready for another night of that. I also
told them their site psychiatrist had refused to listen to us (in the
collective - including many doctors) and did not know this would happen. It is
happening. I suspect that the people at Trillium will not do any better than
the people at the orphanage I found him.
It is not a Russian problem.
It is not an American problem. It is a problem about who will actually make
sure to protect the kids. It is a problem about how we care for kids after they
have been harmed. I have said time and time again, Alex got the best treatment
possible given the orphanage circumstances. The Americans are now not listening
and allowing further harm to happen.
Alex is a survivor. He knows
to tell. He tells me about it all, hoping. I hope too.
I also got an email from the
school system today. Apparently legal counsel for the special ed department did
not realize I had reported, and documented, the bullying, taunting, and
physical assaults that lead to Alex breaking last May.
I
remain inconsolable. Alex is already experiencing harm and I cannot go and keep
him safe. I have spent years telling him it wouldn't happen again but it is. I
was wrong. No wonder I keep crying.
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