These have been the most turbulent three weeks ever. It's like suddenly one day someone flipped a switch and the meds stopped working again. For some people, I think that giving their kids meds is lazy. I resisted for a long time. But now I know that meds are the only way BW has a chance at anything resembling normal. He screams, and fights. Not like any NT kid who just wants to get his way. We've had such violence here that I've never seen before. He's hurting people, and not just the ones his size and smaller. He's so strong now! He even gave his therapist a bloody lip one day.
Last week we tried a new med, and after adjusting times and diseases, things seem to be calming down. The med is scary, and it freaks me out that its actually working on him. He's almost back to 'his' normal now. I think a little more time and tweaking will do the trick. It hurts my heart to know that my 7 year old is doing well on strong antipsychotics, but that's for me to deal with, not him.
I've had to pick him up early from school many many times in the past few weeks. The last time being yesterday. I went to the next county to pick up prescriptions from his doctor, then got back to our hometown and went to the pharmacy to fill one. They said 20 minutes, so Little and I cruised around the store for a little bit. She decided she needed to potty, so in we went. As I walked her into the restroom, the school called. He was boiling up to nuclear meltdown time, and they knew putting him on the bus at the end of the day wouldn't be good or safe for anyone. So Little and I packed up and headed to school. (We didn't even reach the school before I got a text saying the Rx was ready at the pharmacy. Sigh.)
When we got there he was doing "just okay." I signed him out and the principal walked us out to the car,while I apologized for the trouble, like usual. On the way out to the car, his shouting and whining and growling stopped. He stopped dead in his tracks. (oh boy, here it comes, right in the school bus lane.) He kicked off a shoe. (Crap.) He tried to steal the principal's umbrella. (Why couldn't I have kept his in the car?) He looked at me and started growling again. Then I saw the strangest thing. He picked up his show and dumped out a plastic cafeteria spoon, bent in half. (WHAT??) I asked if that was his problem and he held up his palm, and calmly said "yeah, I'm good now."
I wish he would have just told someone that his foot was uncomfortable, instead of this huge process. It was true though. As soon as the spoon came out, he was fine. He wanted to wait until he was outside the building before admitting the spoon was there, so it wouldn't get taken away. So bizarre.
Then he insisted on washing the spoon and eating his dinner with it. What in the world? (Ok, so I'm the one who insisted it get washed.)
Tell me about some simple things that have turned into a huge fiasco in your corner is Special Needs Land ;)
