Ah, the tangled dips and turns and twists of the Isaac Roller Coaster!
Mads and I arrived at the PPH in the very moment that Isaac was receiving a sedative.
Maybe that’s all I really need to write tonight? It kinda sums it all up…
Once he’d swallowed his sedative, the three of us headed back to his room where he cried and cried and cried. He sat on my lap and let me wrap my arms around him and he just kept crying. He was completely heartbroken. Eventually, when my time was up, I got him to lie down in his bed and I tucked the blankets all around him and told him just to stay there and get some rest. As Mads and I slipped out, he decided he wanted to say a real goodbye out in the hallway. He came running after us, startling the nurses who called after him to stop (he was still sobbing–that never let up). The whole staff looked ready to pounce on him. The person apparently in charge of his behavior chart for the moment demanded to know from me how our visit had gone (since Isaac had been out of control enough to need a sedative before we showed up and then appeared very unstable still as we were leaving). I carefully explained that Isaac was very upset, but he hadn’t done anything wrong and I felt like he just needed some rest now to let the sedative help him out.
ALL OF A SUDDEN, Isaac screams angrily and lurches at me, pinching my hand hard enough that he scraped a chunk of skin off my palm. I was so surprised that I held my hand up in shock as they hauled Isaac away from me and off to the now infamous time-out room. Mads and I called out to him that we loved him, but they wouldn’t let him get close enough to us for us to hug him goodbye. As we left, I could only imagine how awful time-out was. He was already in such terrible emotional shape. Sigh. I so wish he had just stayed all snug in his bed waiting for the sedative to kick in. Ugh.
A little while later, the social worker called me. She was calling to talk about Isaac’s upcoming transition into partial hospitalization, but she asked how today’s visit had gone. I briefly told her about it, but said, “you know, we understand, with the new meds and everything. This is just part of what we expect.”
“He’s not on a new med.”
*Cue scratching record sound.*
“What do you mean? I thought they’d started the new antipsychotic!”
The social worker went through her paperwork and said, “No, I do not show that he has started that yet. I’ll have the psychiatrist call you.”
Holy cow. All these things I’ve been chalking up to a new med, and apparently there is no new med.
The psychiatrist called me right away. She started off by asking how our visits have been going and I told her about how yesterday was difficult but today was heartbreaking. I told her about how they were sedating him as I arrived (which they hadn’t told her yet) and that he sobbed hysterically through our whole visit and then lashed out and hurt me. I told her I assumed it was because of the new antipsychotic–which she confirmed had not been started yet. She told me that they weren’t planning to start the antipsychotic for a couple more days as they wanted to increase the mood stabilizer just a little more. She was very concerned about my reports of how these last couple of days had gone–she had seen him this morning, but it was before he’d started to struggle for the day, so she didn’t know. Obviously this means that there are new concerns about the mood stabilizer (since there is approximately zero mood stability) and more urgency to get him going on some form of antipsychotic rather than wait any longer. So… there we are.
Are we all more confused than ever?
Hubby visited Isaac tonight on his way home from work. It went equally but differently bad. He just spent the whole time insulting Hubby and trying to get him to go away, which, after about half an hour, he did.
And there we have it, folks. Dips, turns, twists. What will tomorrow hold?
All our love,