It has been almost one year since Jordan got so pissed that he kicked a giant hole through our wall. The event that started me into a such downward spiral, it has taken me until now to claw my way out.
I've spent so much of my life looking for answers, searching for doctors, and pleading those doctors to give me answers. I thought I found the one who could help. Instead, she advised me to put him into a psychiatric hospital, two hours away from home. He spent 18 awful days there, where he received the worst treatment I could've imagined. I firmly believe that he was finally discharged (without any improvement) because our insurance stopped paying. The very day we brought him home, I started searching, again, for a new doctor. Much to my surprise, I found one. He listened, asked questions, listened some more, asked some more questions, scratched his head and sipped his tea with a baffled look upon his face. That very first day, we started making changes to his medications. It was clear to me that they weren't working, and hadn't been for quite some time. I finally found someone who agreed, and didn't speak to me like I was less than human. During this same period of time, another doctor was dropped in our lap. While he realized he could not cure him, he promised and assured me that he would do everything within his power to help him. And he has. A few months ago, Jordan started seeing a local neurologist for Tourette's, since the one in Cleveland said he couldn't help us but would like to observe him. Doing what? I don't need to drag him two hours (one way) to be looked at by a stranger, and the even stranger 'stranger' studying under his tutelage.
Fast forward until today...
With the help of these three doctors, their patience, their willingness to think outside of the box, and to treat Jordan's insides in order to help his outsides, we are where we are today. As I take a deep breath in, and out, and in, and out again...dare I say he's nearly stable? His episodes of uncontrollable rage have gone from several times daily to once or twice a month. His patience for his brother has improved tenfold. His tics are noticeably less present. I can't remember the last time I was concerned he would hyperventilate from his breathing tic. He is smiling. He is happy. Sometimes he even tolerates the cats. But only sometimes. As with everybody, each day is different. I can take it. I'm getting my Jordan back, and it feels amazing. I will forever be grateful to these doctors.
I've also had a self discovery, of some sort. I have spent the past 12 months in such a funk, I though I'd never survive. My husband and my children suffered because of it. My new doctor changed my meds and I've eliminated a lot of negativity and dead weight from my life. And I've challenged myself. You see, I've been away for so long because I returned to where my heart lies...pen and paper. I've always been a writer, and with so much anger and hatred in my heart, I found myself going back. I didn't keep what I wrote. I had no desire to re-read the vile words that spewed forth. I ripped them up, dried my tears, and tried to move on. My challenge is this: every day, I will write in my journal. And it will be a journal of positivity, love, and laughter. Every day, I'm going to remind myself how unbelievably amazing my children are, and remind myself how lucky I am to be their mom. I've spent far too long feeling bad about my circumstances...time to realize how good my life is...I'm lucky to be me.
No comments:
Post a Comment