Wednesday, February 3, 2021
2-3-2021 Journal Entry, aka Therapists and Doctors
Tuesday, February 2, 2021
2-2-2021 Journal Entry, aka Groups
Arrena sent me a news story about a Facebook group for widows of Covid. I joined it but I'm not sure yet if I like it. It's hard to read your story over and over again. But, it's also nice to have people who understand what it's like to have gone through this disease and come out different. It's nice to feel understood and commiserate with others who've had people trivialize their loss by asking what the underlying condition was. Most of these people who died were healthy until they got Covid.
I started going to GriefShare at the church's counseling center last night. I had a hard time even getting out of the car and I definitely cried. But, again, it's nice to have someone to talk to because sometimes I feel like a burden to my friends and family. I feel like they avoid the topic to keep me from feeling bad. But, I feel bad all the time. But, do they want to hear it all the time? Maybe I'm the one really avoiding it. I don't know.
Billy watched Iron Man tonight. It was the last movie Scott watched in the hospital, so it made me cry. I need my antidepressants back so bad. Tomorrow's my appointment, I pray he can get insurance approval.
Today they started working on my siding. I had to do a bunch of paperwork with my financial advisor today. And the church got my tithe check, so they called to talk to me and pray with me.
Wednesday, January 27, 2021
1-27-2021 Journal Entry, aka Angry and Unmedicated
I just feel mad today. About everything. So I pretty much napped all day. I filled out a form for another fund. I messed up a form and left it for another day. And I was told I forgot to sign a form, a month later. I don't know if this rage is from being off my anti-depressant or what. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist last week and he was going to bump my dose on one that seemed to be helping and wean me off one that wasn't. I called them back, having forgotten to give them my new insurance only to find out they don't take my new insurance. Then the pharmacy said that the new insurance wants prior authorization, so there's been calls to my now "old" psychiatrist to try to get it approved. Email from Walgreen's this morning said still trouble with insurance, so now I'm left out of my good med cold turkey. I'm glad between the doc, the pharmacy, and the insurance that someone cares about the recently-suicidal, newly widowed woman who's off her meds cold turkey.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Happy New Year
Billy, as you may know, is six years old. He and his sisters went to visit their dad on Christmas day and stayed until the 27th. Billy came back a new boy. It was amazing. I thought maybe they had found a look-alike to switch him with or maybe he had been hypnotized or something. The only real answer was that his dad had given him a PSP (Play Station Portable) for Christmas and he was told that if he didn't behave with us, he would lose it at his dad's. As an added incentive, he was also informed that his dad would buy him some new games for it, if he was really good.
For two days, he was an angel. I was dumbstruck. He didn't get in trouble for anything. He was sweet and pleasant and I really enjoyed him. I was recovering from being sick, so it was nice to be able to sleep in, my husband gave him his morning medication, and then I woke up to a happy family.
We were running low on his morning meds, which are his primary ADHD medication. His psychiatrist had had to cancel his appointment and couldn't fit him in again until the end of January. They went ahead and wrote a prescription to make up for the month. His doctor's office is in Leawood, KS and we live in Raytown, MO, so I waited to pick it up until he had his counseling appointment in Overland Park, KS on Friday. While his behavior for two days had been exceptional, his counselor predicted it would be short-lived. Judging from the behavior we had recorded before Christmas, Billy obviously wasn't taking us seriously and it was time to up the ante. He brought Billy in and explained to him that he cannot continue to treat his mother the way he has and outlined the new rules, which allow very little wiggle room for him. And, sure enough, the good boy started to unravel later that day.
I didn't think to take the prescription in immediately to have it filled. He had his last dose yesterday morning. About 5pm, it dawned on me that it was New Year's Eve and the pharmacy might be closing early. I called and it was already closed. I thought I might go out after the kids went to bed and find a 24-hour Walgreen's to get it filled.
Billy ended up having a meltdown. It all started because he took a bite of a sandwich that had been sitting on top of the trash can. I said that was gross, so then he wanted me to kiss him, to gross me out further. When I refused, he picked up a can of Febreze and aimed it at me. I told him to put it down several times. He ignored me and sprayed me in the face with it. He not only got me, but also the chicken I was cutting up for dinner. I told him to go to his room and since this was his second strike, he would be getting a peanut butter sandwich for dinner, instead of eating with the rest of us. He refused to go, so he was escorted to his room. He returned with a boxed game and threw it at me, hitting me in the back. My husband got up then and dealt with him while I finished dinner. It sounded like a major battle in there, but Scott eventually got Billy calmed down, but not before Billy tore down the shade in the window.
However, after bedtime, Billy started banging on the door, which is a no-no, according to his counselor. As per the counselor's instructions, I went in and held him down for 15 minutes (once he gets riled, he continues to escalate--the holding seems to "reset" him), during which he fought me constantly, spitting on me, etc. After that, I found that he had broken a CD I had let him borrow from the library, so now he not only has to use his Christmas money to replace the shade, but also the CD.
I was so wiped, I didn't want to get out again, so we decided we would get his meds filled on our way to church since the 24 hour Walgreen's is about a block from the church. But, we slept in and missed church. When we woke up, we were laying there, discussing what the game plan was for the day when the house phone started ringing. The only people that ever call our house phone are the kids' friends and telemarketers, so we didn't run to answer it. But, then I heard sounds of a child skirmish, so I immediately went to check it out. Billy's hands were covered in what looked like glitter glue. His oldest sister was screeching about how he had dumped out all of her makeup and something about prank calls they had been getting. I was in the bathroom, trying to wash Billy's hands when the doorbell rang. Our middle child looked out the window and yelled, "Oh my goodness! It's the cops!" I could hear my husband let them in and talking to them and I gathered that Billy had somehow called 911. The "prank calls" the girls had been referring to was the 911 operator trying to call back. It came up as blocked and the girls wouldn't answer it.
I finished cleaning Billy up and sent him to put some clothes on since he was running around in his underoos, for some unknown reason. Then he went to face the two police officers in our living room. They were very nice and understanding, but the woman lectured him on the difference between an emergency and playing with the phone. He looked scared while they were there, but after they left, he was laughing like it was no big deal. We were NOT amused. We sent him to his room.
I went out to get his meds refilled. The pharmacy we usually go to was closed for the holiday, so I went to Walgreen's. They told me they don't accept our insurance anymore! Since when? I get his nighttime meds there every month because our other pharmacy doesn't carry it! And it isn't as though we have some weird insurance--it's Blue Cross Blue Shield! She said that they made a deal with CVS. Lovely. I DESPISE CVS! Now, I'm wondering if that's the only place I can fill at now. If so, that's ridiculous! And thanks for changing our insurance without telling us!
So, I headed over to CVS, reluctantly. Of course, instead of a 20 minute wait like everywhere else, it's going to be an hour (guess that's better than the time I had to go there for meds for an allergic reaction I was having--don't get me started). So, I go to the store to get a few things and kill time. While there, my phone rings. It was CVS calling to tell me that they couldn't run my discount card. Our psychiatrist gave me a 50% discount card because the meds are so expensive. Even with insurance, the copay is $60 a month. The card makes it $30 a month. It's still a lot when you add in that he has two other meds (not as expensive, thank goodness) and the copays for both a psychiatrist and a counselor (the latter he sees once a week). Well, I guess I didn't realize he had been on it so long, but it's only good for a year and guess what? The year is up. Of course it is. They told me that if I can get the info for another card over the phone, they can process it that way. But, it's Sunday and it's New Year's Day, so there is no one in the doctor's office to give me numbers off a new discount card. So, now it's a decision of whether I buy the groceries in the cart or buy Billy's prescription at full-price. My husband and I decided since it was getting so late anyways, we would just give him his afternoon pill and try to call the doctor in the morning.
So, I finished my grocery shopping and came home. We were putting away groceries and cleaning up when my husband found that Billy's bottle of nighttime meds (anti-depressant) was empty. I just filled it about a week and a half ago. I nearly lost it. Billy denied it at first, but eventually cheerfully confessed to pouring it down the drain because it tastes yucky. I'm looking into the face of this adorable 6-year-old, who is telling me that he just wasted some more medicine that I am sure the doctor will not refill this soon. He is smiling, like he he has had the best day ever, despite the police showing up, the absent meds, the glowering twitching parent in front of him. Then I notice the blue fish stamps all over his face. I look around the room and see green marker on the carpet. I demanded all the crayons, markers, stampers, anything that marked. I confiscated them all. Then I gave him an hour to get his room clean or I would clean it for him.
An hour later, my husband and I came back and filled up two trash bags. Billy acted like he didn't even care. How do you work with a child that doesn't care and doesn't have any remorse?
It's like I have an overgrown two-year-old. I feel like I need to sleep in front of his door or handcuff myself to him so that I know where he is and what he is up to every second of every day. He sneaks out of his room at night and pours liquid soap out into the bathtub or hydrogen peroxide all over the floor. He mixes soaps with bath fizzers. He scratches "No Girls Allowed" in the paint on his wall. He finds scissors and cuts large holes into his pajama bottoms and pillowcases. He squirts his sister's body lotion all over the basement floor. He put her lip gloss on all the doorknobs. And that's just the mischief he gets into.
There's the spitting and the punching. He calls me an MF. He calls his sisters the B-word. He calls everyone idiots. He throws things at his grandma. He tears up everything, or tries to, when he has a temper tantrum--from kicking car seats and windows when we're in the car, to tearing down blinds and throwing things when he's at home. He bites. He kicks the cats. He ignores me and tells me "No!" He runs and hides from me when he's in trouble or doesn't want to do something. He tells us he hates us and wishes we were all dead. He tells me he's going to kill me.
Calgon doesn't take me far enough away. If I were a drinker, I'd be an alcoholic for sure. His counselor says it's going to be slow progress, but times like this, I swear I can FEEL gray hairs and hear my life clock ticking backwards: there's another year off my life. I don't think MY antidepressants are strong enough for days like these. I hope that in a few years, I can look back on this post and laugh and thank God for how far Billy has come. But, I really hope it doesn't take years.