At our last appointments with his therapist, W, and his ARNP, SC, both separately led the conversation with, "Hospitalization is still on the table." Well, great. It's never off the table, guys, but thanks. N is doing a very slowww progression toward sharing more with us (his parents), but we're still in this awful cycle of thinking things are just fine, and then finding out weekly that he's suffering from nightmares, or intrusive thoughts, or cycling in suicidal thoughts. This last week was very helpful in that SC employed R to start sharing how he processes in hopes that it will make more sense to N than my sharing, which is just a very different processing than what he uses. He's doing a good job of opening if we ask, and is learning some new breathing/calming/mindfulness techniques that R has learned in therapy.
Okay, so let's count up the good news, because I'm feeling crushed by the weight of this, and other things going on in my life that are equally consuming and intense, without the edge of "someone could die". Not sure I could take more of that.
- He's sharing his artwork with us
- He's talking with us when we ask
- He's practicing the things we're teaching him about coping
- He's got a goal to get into Running Start now that high school will start
- He is trying. It may not be the speed or whatever that we'd like, but he's trying
- He has suicidal thoughts but he doesn't want to die, he wants the thoughts to end
That's better than the bad news, which is...
- His medications aren't giving him the coverage he needs. He's on four now:
- Rispiradone (PRN)
- Gabapentin (PRN)
- Lamotrigine (daily)
- Prozac (daily)
- Since the medications aren't covering his symptoms, and the symptoms are getting worse, witht he support of his provider we're adding cannabis in capsule form to soothe his anxiety. I might have to write a whole post about that, and I'm scared to because the laws are so whackadoo/confusing. Let's just say we're going the right route to get an approval from a provider who can give N a card for it, but at the end of the day, I'm having to address a life-long relationship with marijuana use being taboo and riddled with stigma.
- If we can't find a way to soothe his increasing symptoms, the only drugs left to us are Lithium and Xanax. After a life time of dealing with my mother, addicted to prescription drugs, and feeling that Xanax was just a dirty word, a spectre I couldn't fight, I'm willing to try just about anything to avoid him taking these drugs. Not only do I have an emotional response, but these are big time serious whopper drugs and when I hear things like 50% of patients started on lithium develop nephrogenic diabetes insipidus, I want to crap my pants.
There used to be a time when his greatest hurts were soothed with a hug, a squeeze, a joke, wiping his nose, making him laugh. I keep touching him and I automatically imagine energy flowing from me into him that will make him just suddenly feel better. I hug him often, I touch him frequently, and I keep being surprised when he doesn't just lift his head and say, "Wow, that made a difference. Thanks, Mom." He just continues to hang his head, and sigh, and hug me back. I feel like he's in a place I can't reach him, a lot of the time, much less fix what's wrong. I'm confused that the sheer will and power of my love can't make this better. How can that be? How can a mother's love not fix a broken spirit? I don't understand that. I continue to be confused by it.
Taking nothing for granted, because this kid can still check out. He can still decide that this is all too hard to deal with, and just check out. I have to think about that, prepare myself, just in case, but keep an eye on the slowly upward moving trajectory we're getting over time. Those fast valleys though, they're hard dips that slam us into the ground, and bloody our noses.
Taking nothing for granted, because this kid can still check out. He can still decide that this is all too hard to deal with, and just check out. I have to think about that, prepare myself, just in case, but keep an eye on the slowly upward moving trajectory we're getting over time. Those fast valleys though, they're hard dips that slam us into the ground, and bloody our noses.
