Note: This was written several months ago. This post is yet another in my commitment to sharing with you what this life is like for families like ours.
Waiting Room. . .
I sit once again in a children’s hospital, wondering if again my child will be admitted. The waiting room is full, so I know we will have a long wait.
Wondering. Hoping, we will figure out what is going on why my son is so sad. An 11-year-old shouldn’t be depressed and be feeling so severely lonely he has to call home from school begging to come home. Despite my telling him there would be no access to screens if I picked him up early he didn’t care. Screens are the one thing he cares about that will get him to do anything. That scared me.
I convinced him to go back to class for lunch and if he wasn’t feeling any better I would come and get him. He didn’t make it to lunch before the nurse was calling me again to come and pick him up.
Hospital Emergency Room. . .
Buttons beep all around me. It’s the soundtrack of a hospital. Weight presses down on me as I consider what might end up happening. Things don’t seem real. I can’t believe we are back here in this situation again.
I should have grabbed lunch before we got here. I should have grabbed my phone charger. I should have grabbed my bottle of Xanax before I left. What choices am I going to have to make here before I or my son can leave? Will I make the right choice? Will he blame me for the rest of his life for choices I make?
I have to remind myself to breathe. Breathing seems like it’s optional right now.
Doctors, nurses keep walking back and forth. Part of me hopes they are coming for me and that this is all a bad dream and they are sending us home. Part of me wants to scream, “Don’t let us leave until you have figured out how to help my child!!”
Breathe. Remember to breathe. The oxygen in this room feels heavy. I can get very little air in.
They are admitting him, and I am going home without him…
The following day. . .
I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Sleep eluded me last night. My eyes feel hot and grainy. My stomach isn’t friends with food anymore. My body feels defeated.
I had to call his school to tell them he wouldn’t be at school all week as he was in the hospital. Their voice was full of concern until I said he was in the Psych unit. Then, the voice on the other end of the line changed. Was it because he was in the Psych Unit rather than admitted for something else? Wasn’t this just as awful? Or maybe it’s just because mental illness is a taboo subject?
Why?
To read more about our journey you could start reading – Autism Is Never Going Away
6 Days Surviving in the Emergency Department
This must have been incredibly hard for both of you, the last thing you needed was that reaction from the school. My 9 year old has had bouts of this for the past couple of years, it always passes but at the same time it’s always under the surface and I worry we may end up in a similar situation one day. There’s nothing worse than wanting so desperately to help your child but not being able to. I hope they were able to help.
Thank you for joining the #FamilyFunLinky x
Thanks for reading. It’s not a fun situation. He’s doing a little better right now.
My heart goes out to you, but your child is your child no matter what just as the love you feel for that child. I have a friend that has an autism child and she went on facebook & asked if there were any mothers out there who had the same type of child & she found many friends to swap ideas from & she is very happy she did. Just a suggestion. What works for one may not work for another. I was blessed with five children, but one of them was taken back to the Lord due to S.I.D.S. I was left with two girls two boys & I was blessed, which gave me 12 grandchildren & 2 great grandchildren. So yes, I’m blessed. Happy Fourth my new friend and I shall remember you & yours in my prayers tonight! HUGS (hugs is great medicine).
Thank you for your kind words.
Goodness me. I feel for you. I hope you found they could help. A big hug. #FamilyFunLinky
Thank you. We are still in the process of getting help.
My heart goes out to you. I cannot imagine the heartbreak of going through something like this with your child. I see this was written a few months ago. I pray your son is doing better. Hugs, mom. (Coming from Mom Gene Link Up)
Thank you. This has been a difficult year. He is a bit more stable now.