Hope?

 Lets call this one The Hope Post! We don't always know when hope is right around the corner.  Things can look bleak at best, as it did for us at the beginning of this week.   But things are good.  Treatment is going well, and I am so proud of my son for doing this.  It is incredibly hard I can't go see him, but they have a no visitors policy in place due to a certain illness.  The 10 minute daily phone calls however, totally make my day.

He seems to be doing well, the food isn't the best, I got a very strong "EH" when I asked about it, and he misses my cooking.  I know they are giving him Ensure to drink, which is fairly typical for someone with an ED to make certain they get at least some of the nutrition they need.  As long as things continue to go well, he should be able to come home on Monday.  His psychiatrist has put him on Prozac and has already upped the dosage because he was doing so well on the initial dose.  From here I would imagine a team will be put together to work on the AN and his mental health issues.  Monday should be interesting to say the least.  He did ask what was for dinner that night, and since it is Valentines Day, it will most likely be dinner out.  Something fun to plan for.  But also something to potentially worry about.  

This feels like the first steps on a long road to recovery.  I would love to say this will be the one and only time we find ourselves in this situation.  It would be delusional of me though to think we couldn't end up here again.  For my S18AN, the cutting seems to be triggered by hopelessness. When he feels things are not getting better, when he feels like the support from the professionals is deeply missing, he cuts.  Usually superficially. That isn't always the case, nor will it always be the case.  I am hoping (there is that word hope again) they are helping him find other means of coping with this desire to self harm. I have read several ways to do this.  Rubber bands to snap, taping up the tools they use so when they feel the need they have to take the time to get the tape off, and then usually by the time they do, they don't want to, or need to.  I am  not sure this would work properly as he has taken to dismantling razors he uses to shave with to get the blade to cut.  Talk about patience.  

In spite of all of that, all the unknowns, I have hope.  And that is what I am going to focus on for now.

Much love 

Help Wanted

 I had to do one of the hardest things in my life late Sunday night.  I had to take my S18AN into the ER and Baker Act him.  If you are unfamiliar with that term, it means to put someone under a 72 hour psychiatric hold.  72 hours at the very least.  I thought we were doing well.  I thought he was eating enough, I watched him eat.  Sunday night, around 11:45pm, he came in and woke me up, to show me he had been cutting again.  He hasn't in quite a while, he has been happy, working, FaceTiming his girlfriend, and eating pizza and burritos.  

This time he had not only cut on his upper bicep, but had cut down closer to his wrist.  Deep cuts.  Deep enough I felt that they needed some attention.  Going into the ER, with self-harm, immediately means they will Baker Act the patient.  I asked him why, and he told me he wasn't getting any better.  He hadn't eaten anything on Sunday.  He weighs 121 pounds.  This was a cry for help.  This was my son desperate for someone to see him, and finally help him.  

We spent the night in a bed in the ER, the staff was kind, but we saw very little of them.  The ER we went to, doesn't have a psychiatric floor.  Maybe that was the reason, but no one came in to bandage his arm.  I watched his blood pressure every time it was automatically taken, he was hypotensive, meaning he had low blood pressure.  I watched his heart rate drop low enough to set off the alarm on the monitor, no one came to do anything about it.  Not sure if there was anything that could be done though.  

The next morning, we were told he would be taken by ambulance at 9:30 to a treatment facility up in Stuart, Florida.  And that I couldn't go with him.  The hospital staff promised someone would call me and update me on what was going on.  So I ran home, so I could bring him contact lens solution, his case, his glasses. I brought him some clothes to change into and then kissed and hugged him goodbye.

It's now Tuesday afternoon.  I called the treatment facility at 10am.  The front desk person could not give me any information because I didn't have a 4 digit code.  How on earth would I have a code, when no one is calling me to tell me anything.  I left my name and number for the Nurses Desk to call me.  So I wait.  

This is hard, and it hurts.  I am worried, I know he is in a good place to begin to get the help he so desperately needs.  I just want to know what the treatment plan is, will he be staying past the initial 72 hours? Are they putting together a team to cover all of his bases? Is there going to be medication prescribed? I want them to make sure he is eating.  Eating heals the brain, what if they don't cover that? 

I am trying to trust that this is the beginning of healing.