Not the Best Week
Jun. 12th, 2011 11:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
humantalesThis has been a fairly miserable week. Not horrible, just constant stuff.
For the last several months, Goofy has been traveling nearly constantly. With a couple of exceptions, he hasn't been gone on the weekends, but he's been away at least one week out of three since the beginning of the year. I'm used to a two-adult household, so this has been a constant strain. Especially since he thinks nothing of calling me to chat when he's bored and has nothing to do. I may not always be busy, but I don't like long meandering phone calls with no point, especially when there's lots of background noise (airports, cars going through tolls, etc). So, that's been one strain.
Max is sixteen and a sophomore in high school who, although he's bright enough, is not motivated and has trouble dealing with the minutiae of bureaucracy. To the point that it states in his IEP that notices being sent home are NOT to be sent via him, only through phone, email or snail mail. (His backpack contains a black hole; we don't get notes given to him.)
Plus I have a family that is dysfunctional at best, in which I've always felt very much the outsider. (I was the "smart" one, while my sisters were pretty and popular. I was "Daddy's girl", which became a real problem when my parents separated when I went to college, my sisters stayed with Mom and I . . . didn't really have a home. Now, I'm expected to keep in contact, be the voice of reason and adult, (I'm the only one of the three of us who's happily married, with a steady job, etc.)
All of this is the standard stuff of my life. It makes life tough, but I've gotten used to it.
Monday morning, I got an email from Max. (This isn't actually unusual. In an attempt to get him to take responsibility for his own homework, he emails his homework home in stead of writing it in a planner, which has never been particularly effective, and copies me, his father, his case worker, etc. It actually works really well.) He was sitting in the nurse's office and realized that his anti-depressants were too low and this was why he was feeling bad. (Max has been on a very low dose of anti-depressants for four years now. It's practically a homeopathic dose but every time we try to take him off, his mood slides down.)
He's been cranky, uncooperative and moody lately, but I hadn't realized he was depressed. So, calls were made, and I had a doctor's appointment for him Tuesday night. (Would have had to do it shortly anyway; it was med review time.) In order to get there, and to his regular therapist's appointment, I was going to have to run around, so I worked from home on Tuesday instead of Wednesday. (Goofy was in Nashville. I think; it starts to get fuzzy after a while.) When we both got home, I sat down with him and talked. Turns out it's more a gradual thing, and he had the epiphany while taking his noon-time med. I shouldn't worry about him. (Sorry, kid, that ship has sailed!)
So, Tuesday, we saw the doctor, who isn't sure this isn't a short-term issue and not a long-term one. Since there are no danger signs (I think he's been asked by half a dozen people, at least, in the past week about suicidal thoughts), she ordered blood work to confirm nothing else was going on and another appointment in two weeks. (Goofy will be in Texas then.) So, nothing settled.
His therapist agreed it was the right path to follow. She also recommended he spend less time with video games, internet surfing, watching TV and reading and more time interacting with people. He doesn't have a large social network; mostly that means me and Goofy. And Goofy is away and can't just call when the whim takes him and can't necessarily take a call the minute it's made. So . . .
Goofy did take Max to have the bloodwork done on Thursday; the results should be back in plenty of the time for the appointment a week from this Tuesday. I may have to screw around more with my schedule, but it should work out. It's just one big giant stress on top of the usual daily stress and Goofy's traveling stress. And it won't be settled for months, because if we do go the increased med route, it'll take a while to play with dosages and if we don't, I'll be watching Max like a hawk to make sure he's not sliding.
Now, yesterday, Goofy came in and said, "I'm on IM chat with your sister and we're talking about her coming up the weekend Max finishes school. I didn't want to say too much without talking with you."
This is a good thing, but it does make me a little nervous. Where I was the "smart" one and K was the "pretty" one, B was the "wild" one. She's grown up a little, but I still worry about some of her lifestyle choices. And she's been unemployed for a while. If she loses her house, we're the most sensible people for her to come live with. (Don't know if things will work out that way; she's really good at not picking the most sensible choice, but . . .)
Still, short term, things look good. She's coming up the weekend Max gets out of school. He and Goofy will go to a ball game on Thursday, the four of us will go to the Discovery Museum in Times Square for the Pompeii and Harry Potter exhibits and finish the night with Zarkana, a new Cirque du Soleil show. That should be exciting.
In July, Goofy, Max and I will down to the DC area. We'll spend a couple of days in the museums with K and her son D, then B and I will spend the day at the Kalachakra for World Peace, before we go home to catch a flight to take Max to Florida to spend the rest of the summer with his grandparents.
Then, in August, Goofy and I are flying to San Francisco and taking a cruise up the inside passage route to Alaska, for ten days of sailing and four stops. We're planning excursions right now; should be fun.
Max will be returned to us Labor Day weekend, just in time for school. Then, a couple of weeks later, we're taking B to CT to see Wicked on a road show.
So much for nothing to do this summer.
Still, there's some tough times to get through to get to the good stuff, and right now I'm stretched like too little butter over too much bread. Just have to get through it somehow. (Fanfiction writing, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be doing it for me. 18,000 words gets three reviews; under 1800 gets seven (maybe eight). Wish I understood it.
And on that note, if any of you are still reading this mess, I must now go to sleep the prepare for the next exciting week of . . . stuff. **sigh** I want a live of ease with servants to pamper me. Yeah, not in this life.
For the last several months, Goofy has been traveling nearly constantly. With a couple of exceptions, he hasn't been gone on the weekends, but he's been away at least one week out of three since the beginning of the year. I'm used to a two-adult household, so this has been a constant strain. Especially since he thinks nothing of calling me to chat when he's bored and has nothing to do. I may not always be busy, but I don't like long meandering phone calls with no point, especially when there's lots of background noise (airports, cars going through tolls, etc). So, that's been one strain.
Max is sixteen and a sophomore in high school who, although he's bright enough, is not motivated and has trouble dealing with the minutiae of bureaucracy. To the point that it states in his IEP that notices being sent home are NOT to be sent via him, only through phone, email or snail mail. (His backpack contains a black hole; we don't get notes given to him.)
Plus I have a family that is dysfunctional at best, in which I've always felt very much the outsider. (I was the "smart" one, while my sisters were pretty and popular. I was "Daddy's girl", which became a real problem when my parents separated when I went to college, my sisters stayed with Mom and I . . . didn't really have a home. Now, I'm expected to keep in contact, be the voice of reason and adult, (I'm the only one of the three of us who's happily married, with a steady job, etc.)
All of this is the standard stuff of my life. It makes life tough, but I've gotten used to it.
Monday morning, I got an email from Max. (This isn't actually unusual. In an attempt to get him to take responsibility for his own homework, he emails his homework home in stead of writing it in a planner, which has never been particularly effective, and copies me, his father, his case worker, etc. It actually works really well.) He was sitting in the nurse's office and realized that his anti-depressants were too low and this was why he was feeling bad. (Max has been on a very low dose of anti-depressants for four years now. It's practically a homeopathic dose but every time we try to take him off, his mood slides down.)
He's been cranky, uncooperative and moody lately, but I hadn't realized he was depressed. So, calls were made, and I had a doctor's appointment for him Tuesday night. (Would have had to do it shortly anyway; it was med review time.) In order to get there, and to his regular therapist's appointment, I was going to have to run around, so I worked from home on Tuesday instead of Wednesday. (Goofy was in Nashville. I think; it starts to get fuzzy after a while.) When we both got home, I sat down with him and talked. Turns out it's more a gradual thing, and he had the epiphany while taking his noon-time med. I shouldn't worry about him. (Sorry, kid, that ship has sailed!)
So, Tuesday, we saw the doctor, who isn't sure this isn't a short-term issue and not a long-term one. Since there are no danger signs (I think he's been asked by half a dozen people, at least, in the past week about suicidal thoughts), she ordered blood work to confirm nothing else was going on and another appointment in two weeks. (Goofy will be in Texas then.) So, nothing settled.
His therapist agreed it was the right path to follow. She also recommended he spend less time with video games, internet surfing, watching TV and reading and more time interacting with people. He doesn't have a large social network; mostly that means me and Goofy. And Goofy is away and can't just call when the whim takes him and can't necessarily take a call the minute it's made. So . . .
Goofy did take Max to have the bloodwork done on Thursday; the results should be back in plenty of the time for the appointment a week from this Tuesday. I may have to screw around more with my schedule, but it should work out. It's just one big giant stress on top of the usual daily stress and Goofy's traveling stress. And it won't be settled for months, because if we do go the increased med route, it'll take a while to play with dosages and if we don't, I'll be watching Max like a hawk to make sure he's not sliding.
Now, yesterday, Goofy came in and said, "I'm on IM chat with your sister and we're talking about her coming up the weekend Max finishes school. I didn't want to say too much without talking with you."
This is a good thing, but it does make me a little nervous. Where I was the "smart" one and K was the "pretty" one, B was the "wild" one. She's grown up a little, but I still worry about some of her lifestyle choices. And she's been unemployed for a while. If she loses her house, we're the most sensible people for her to come live with. (Don't know if things will work out that way; she's really good at not picking the most sensible choice, but . . .)
Still, short term, things look good. She's coming up the weekend Max gets out of school. He and Goofy will go to a ball game on Thursday, the four of us will go to the Discovery Museum in Times Square for the Pompeii and Harry Potter exhibits and finish the night with Zarkana, a new Cirque du Soleil show. That should be exciting.
In July, Goofy, Max and I will down to the DC area. We'll spend a couple of days in the museums with K and her son D, then B and I will spend the day at the Kalachakra for World Peace, before we go home to catch a flight to take Max to Florida to spend the rest of the summer with his grandparents.
Then, in August, Goofy and I are flying to San Francisco and taking a cruise up the inside passage route to Alaska, for ten days of sailing and four stops. We're planning excursions right now; should be fun.
Max will be returned to us Labor Day weekend, just in time for school. Then, a couple of weeks later, we're taking B to CT to see Wicked on a road show.
So much for nothing to do this summer.
Still, there's some tough times to get through to get to the good stuff, and right now I'm stretched like too little butter over too much bread. Just have to get through it somehow. (Fanfiction writing, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be doing it for me. 18,000 words gets three reviews; under 1800 gets seven (maybe eight). Wish I understood it.
And on that note, if any of you are still reading this mess, I must now go to sleep the prepare for the next exciting week of . . . stuff. **sigh** I want a live of ease with servants to pamper me. Yeah, not in this life.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-13 06:40 pm (UTC)(and, as I'm waiting to hear to get an appointment for my 8 year old... when did you know that Max would need anti-depressants / other medication related to mental illness?)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:08 am (UTC)The anti-depressants started as response to a crisis four years ago--so he was 12. Goofy was going through his backpack and found some violent artwork--the kind that would have caused problems if it had been found at school. So, we took him straight to his therapist (that's been ongoing since he was 8) and, when everything shook out, he was put on a low dose of anti-depressants/anti-anxiety. He's been on the same dose ever since. We've discussed taking him off but every time, he misses more than one dose, it's been clear that, placebo or not, he needs the med. (The dose is very low and his body weight has increased quite a bit.)
Good luck with your little one. There's no way it's easy.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 02:59 pm (UTC)Good luck!