I almost hate to blog about this for fear of jinxing things. Life has been going extremely well.
Shortly after we started my son on Depakote, things completely broke down with him. We had another emergency meeting at a behavioral health clinic and he was immediately admitted as an inpatient.
I was devasted. My 13 year old. A husband with bipolar disease and I am checking my son into a psych ward. That was one of the longest two weeks of my life.
He had an amazing psychiatrist while he was there. I could only see my son 2 times a week for an hour each time, so I relied on the calls from his doctor to make sure my son was safe. One of the first conversations we had was his doctor telling me that he is a minimalist and tries to avoid medicating them to the gills. This made me feel so much better.
He had extensive group therapy and individual sessions. During our family meeting, his therapist told me that he was a minority. I guess as younger adults enter into a facility many go through a honeymoon phase. They see it as a getaway from parents and obligations. The therapist told me that my son didn’t go through this phase and the majority of kids she sees that don’t tend to have far better outcomes and less of a return rate.
Since he’s been home, which is almost two months, things have been so different. He has been diagnosed as a moderate to severe mood disorder NOS(not otherwise specified). The NOS I was told is because of his age. They won’t come out and say at this age because many symptoms tend to blur with several different diagnoses(bipolar vs depression).
I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop or the bottom to fall out. Last week his therapist stopped his sessions until my son asked to see him as the progress he’s made is remarkable.
I got a phone call from a teacher two days ago and my first thought was, “oh shit, here it comes”. This teacher and him butted heads all last semester, he spent more time in ISS than in her class, and at last report was failing her class.
The phone rings and I answer. “Hi. This is Ms. Kruger.”
“I wanted to talk to you about Brady.”
“First off, let me tell you that has brought his F up to an A.”
“Wow, that’s great!” Still waiting for the bad news.
“Secondly, I am so happy to have Brady back. This new leaf he’s turned over has been amazing and he’s a pleasure to have in my class again.”
“Uh, um, argh, thank you so much.”
I sat and cried. I felt like the worst mother in the world for “locking” my son up and maybe it truly was the right thing to do.
My husband was a huge catalyst for making my son compliant with meds and after I got him on a daily regimine, I sat and had a talk with Paul. He’s been non compliant with his meds. Three weeks ago, I laid down the gauntlet. I was getting my son help and making him take his meds and if Paul couldn’t do the same he had to go.
He’s been a bit of a zombie as he hasn’t had his full range of meds in about 6 years. But I see the irritability is going away, the laughter is back in this house, the minor things aren’t triggers for either of them.
As I sit here and type this one is sitting at the end of the couch and the other on the loveseat and they are arguing over the best wrestlers in the hall of fame. Both laughing, both smiling, both having fun again. A very happy mom. And a very literal Good Friday!