Levi spent a week in the behavioral hospital this time. I picked him up Wednesday afternoon. He looked great! His eyes were sparkling, he was smiling, he ran to greet me with an enormous hug. It was fabulous! I had MY baby back. The drive home was fine. Even being home was alright. He showered and ate, we snuggled, he snuggled grandma, bedtime was fine as well.
Then he had a nigh-terror. I wasn’t there. I was taking Trevor to work. But, when I got home, mom was in the room with him. It was bad. She told me she had to literally lay on him to get him to calm down. (Full body pressure, we use it a lot) The rest of the night was not great.
It was that damn new Poltergeist commercial. I hate commercials. He sees it, and become the kid that gets jerked up the stairs. Only, he goes a step further and gets dragged down into the pits of hell, where he has to watch his family be murdered. Now tell me, could YOU sleep with that in your head? I know I couldn’t. He has dreams like this constantly. For years he has.
Anyway, I took him to his day program the next morning and we had a session with his therapist. It started ok. We ended up in the quiet room with me restraining him and trying desperately not to get head butted in the face. All because he made a mistake in something he was drawing, with a pencil.
He screamed, and raged, and cussed, and threatened to kill me. For over an hour. He was back in the behavioral hospital before noon that day. He didn’t even make it 24 hours.
The Dr’s there are great, the whole staff is. Finally, finally I had a therapist ask if I had ever considered that he might be on the spectrum. Yes!!!! Since he was 2! I have asked, and fought, and been laughed at numerous times because he is too damn SMART. Hello asshats, have you ever heard of Temple Grandin?? She is a genius, hands down.
So, the upshot of this mini rant is that we are again being referred for testing. This time, I will make sure the test actually gets done.
Right now I am simply at a loss. I have done all I know to do for this child. He feels safe in the hospital. All those locked doors, he knows the scary things can’t get to him there. My question is, will we be able ti fix him enough that he feels safe at home? I pray that we can.
I feel better this morning. His Dr and I talked for almost an hour. His is firmly on the same page with me. We’re going to try yet another new medication, and hope. There’s always hope.