I Think I Need a Lawyer

I'm not that person...the one looking for reasons to sue in order to get rich quick. But I do think a lawsuit is a useful tool for affecting change. And I think something needs to be done about this situation.

Back in January, DQ started undergoing another round of psychological testing. The Doctor was able to administer the test, but unable to prescribe medication. She did, however, inform us of a new tool for prescribing physicians and pharmacist. 

A DNA panel. Something as simple as a cheek swab can map a persons chemical make up. This is powerful, because it tells doctors what medications have a better chance of working for that persons specific body. And it tells the which ones absolutely will not work. Amazing.

So, when we got an appointment with the prescribing doctor of that practice, I asked that she do a DNA panel on DQ.  She absolutely refused. I informed her that her office had just done a psych eval, and the testing doctor recommended it. She said she didn't need to look at any of DQ's tests. She wasn't going to read any of the notes taken by other therapist. "I only need to talk to DQ to know what's going on." 

15 minutes later, she diagnosed DQ as bi-polar, gave us a handful of scripts and off we went. 

I was not happy. I thought she was fast and loose with my child. She was very disrespectful to me and our in-home therapist who accompanied us to our appointments.

Two months later we went back to the med doctor, and reported no change. And in fact, DQ was getting worse. More angry, more violent. Again, she acted very blasé. Like she was superior and I was just the stupid mother. She upped the dose on DQ's meds. That was her solution to DQ getting physical with me.

The in-home therapist and I agreed; This new doctor was not going to work out of us. So we sought out another one. Keeping in mind, it takes months for us to get appointments with this practice. I wanted to keep DQ there, because moving her would mean doing another psych eval.

Fast forward another three months and we are finally sitting with another prescriber.  He listens to me. He listens to DQ. And then he starts to tell us how the first thing he's going to do is run a DNA panel. I think I threw my hands up in the air and said, "Thank God." He keeps DQ on her current meds, since they aren't doing any harm. And we wait for the tests to come back.

6 weeks later, we go to get results and meet with the new prescriber again. 

The more he explained, the angrier I got.

These tests show DQ will need to be on a vitamin D supplement for the rest of her life. They show she will have a horrible reaction to valium and any drug in the same class. They show that she should react as expected to any of the psychotropic drugs she's been on or will be on in the future. 

But here is the thing... DQ is not producing serotonin. Why? Because her body is not changing folic acid into l-methylfolate. A key ingredient to making serotonin.

The drugs that are used to regulate depression and mood disorders work my elevating and/or keeping serotonin regulated in the body/brain. But if there is no serotonin to begin with NONE OF THESE DRUGS WILL DO A GOD DAMN THING!!!

I'm left wondering why these tests weren't done by the very first prescribing doctor. But I am absolutely livid at the doctor who refused to do the test when I specifically asked for it.

I am seriously considering getting a lawyer to deal with this matter. I wonder how much harm this one doctor has caused with her, "I'm a doctor, so I'm smarter. You're just a stupid parent," attitude? I think she needs a reality check.

I'm considering a trust for DQ to be dispersed on a timeline after she turns 18. She'll need a way to pay for the meds she'll be on for the rest of her life. Maybe I can insure, no matter where she wanders in life, she'll have the medications she needs to at least function.  

I Love Weekends

What a fantastic weekend! Busy, but so great!

The weekend before Halloween, and I had the novel idea that we should carve some pumpkins. But as life goes these days, nothing is ever that simple.

It's been a beautiful week. This gave me the opportunity to redo the deck and porch system that was on the books. Trying to compact that into one day was going to be tough, so I enlisted the help of the teenager, Stretch. What? I pay ten bucks and hour. It's a win-win.

But Itty Bit had TWO birthday parties to go to. Both were sleep-overs. I nixed sleeping over at the friend who lives around the corner, and we opted for the one she rarely sees. So Friday afternoon she went to the first party. At 9, I drove her out to the other friends house so she could hang out there. 

Stretch and I got up early to go work on the deck. Mr. Security came to pick him up around lunch time, to drop him off at the skating rink. Then...Mr. Security went out to pick up Itty Bit from the sleep-over. Meaning... I didn't have to stop work and do it myself.

Their task for the afternoon was to find pumpkins and carving tools for that evening. They called a couple hours later, saying "Operation procure pumpkins was complete."

Mr. Security then went and retrieved Stretch from skating and we all met back at the house around dinner time. Time for some fun with the family.  

Good dinner, pumpkin guts, carving tools, laughter. It's the little things in life that make it worth living. Sharing time with people you care about. 

The weekend would have been a lot more hectic for me with out the help of Mr. Security. He did the running around so I could focus on working. In between all that he cleaned up the house, so we could focus on fun at the end of the day.

Sunday morning, we got up and made big breakfast. Hand cut, texas friend toast. Bacon and cheesy eggs. Yum.

In the afternoon we battled each other in pinball. Good natured shit talking and mock tantrums. Fun times.

The four of us spent almost the entire weekend together and it was fantastic. No fighting. Just fun-ing.

  

This Heart of Mine

I'm a little insane. But is it all bad if you're not the only one?

It's nuts, right? To see someone almost everyday, and then miss them as soon as they're gone? To think about them while you're standing on a ladder, paint brush in hand, when you just left them a few hours ago?  It feels nuts to me. Selfish...maybe a little stalkery? 

I'm not that girl though. I've never been that female who depends on the man to make her whole. I've long been the one who can take it or leave it. My identity is not wrapped up in the person I'm dating. I even loath girls who act like this. Who want to know what he's doing every minute of every day. You know the ones... Their license plate reads "So-in-so's girl"

So this whole situation feels ... a little nuts. And why do I think about Mr. Security all the time? I almost want to smack myself in the face, "Get it together, girl!"

Consuming, overwhelming, scary, all to the point of  "You're being psycho, chill the fuck out!"

But it seems I'm not alone. Does that make it okay if the feeling is mutual? I feel better when he texts, "I know this is crazy, but I miss you already." Yeah, not crazy, baby. I'm right there with ya.

He said something to me the other day.... "As amazing as this is, I have a feeling it's just getting started. It's only going to get better with time." 

Yes, my love. We're going to have a great adventure. And I'm really looking forward to it.

Its Been a Year

A year ago yesterday, one of my best friends died. This tragedy rocked the world as I knew it. Everyone was affected. 

He was only 34 years old. He got drunk at the bar, got on his Harley, and promptly wrecked it. He went over the handle bars and the back of his head met with the rise of the curb. He was on life support for 3 days before his Mom had to make the most difficult decision of her life. 

I was angry. At damn near everyone. The bar and the bartender that served him. The people he was out with that night. The heavens above for taking him so early. But most of all I was angry with Alex. He would have strangled us for doing exactly what he did. Yet he was too prideful to ask for help himself. I was livid at him for putting his mother through so much pain. I was there when they unhooked him from the machines. And when he flat lined, his mother wailed the most horrific sound, I knew a piece of her soul died that day, too.
 
I was a mess. It didn't seem real for a very long time. I'd been in the middle of a painting of his tattoo when it happened. I didn't pick up a brush for 4 months. His canvas just sat on the easel untouched.

I did eventually come out of the fog. My best friend, also a friend of Alex, gave me a talking to. He said, "Do you think Alex would want to be the reason you stop painting? He'd ask you what your damn problem is, and tell you to finish the fucking painting."

In the last year I've come to terms with this. I accept it as reality now. I'll never see him again. Never hear his laugh. Never wake up to a late night drunk text. It's gotten easier. Not better, but easier to live with. Being angry, being sad... it won't undo what has already been done.

I miss you, but I'm ok now. I know you're watching down on all of us, and waiting patiently with a cherry bomb.

 

She Can Play Dress Up

So... Went to a wedding this weekend. As it was on a Saturday, I had plenty of time to pull myself together and actually look like a girl. Granted I had to borrow a dress, because I don't actually own one. And then I had to go buy boots to match the dress, because, boots bitches. 

Also, now I remember why I stopped trying so hard to be girly. That shit is exhausting. I did acrylic nails the night before. I'd broken a couple during the week, so it had to be fixed. Doing hair, actually putting some effort into make-up, painting nails. Running around like a crazy person for a couple hours, yeah it's for the birds. Mostly.

So why did I put so much effort into this? Mr. Security has never seen me look like a girl. In my paint clothes, on the firing range, in my jeans and t-shirt playing pool.... yeah. But actually dressed up for a special event?

He was in the wedding party, so I met him there. And it was all worth it for the look on his face. Yep, I was hot, and he was stunned. To be fair, he looked good enough to eat in his tux. I should probably mention it was a halloween themed wedding. So cool.

 

The Crux of the Problem

I've been putting a lot of thought into my issues with DQ. I'm still angry. I'm still detached. And I feel guilty for feeling this way. It's been almost 2 months since she went to the girls home. Why don't I miss her? The only things I feel are failure and relief.

So I had to devote some energy to figuring out why. Not pleasant at all. But I did find some clarity.

DQ intentionally lied to the police, for the purpose of having me arrested, so I'd lose custody of Itty Bit. It was the straw that broke my proverbial back.

All of the things she's done in the past, they build a picture. You can come to a conclusion without definitive proof, but for this one thing.

She threatened to do it. She dreamed of tearing my family apart. But to that point, it had been hateful words. Until it wasn't anymore.

My part in this is that I can't forgive her. Had it been anyone but my own child, they would have been written off at the start. I tried harder with her than I would any other person on this planet. But I still can't forgive her for this.

She hasn't admitted wrong doing, let alone apologized. She doesn't even see that what she did was plain evil. She feels perfectly justified. It was a way to get what she wanted and that's all that matters to her. I wholeheartedly believe, given the opportunity, she would do it again.

How do you forgive someone when you're the only one aware of the tort? How do you trust someone who admittedly wants to destroy your family? How could anyone expect you to?

I've also been coming to terms with the reality of it all. 

For years I kept telling myself it wasn't as bad as it seemed. That it felt more dramatic because I was dealing with it so closely. Hundreds of hours in therapy. God knows how much time searching the internet for answers. Even when those things started pointing to sociopathy, I denied it. Blaming myself, saying I was making it out to be worse than it is. 

One of the owners of the group home sat down to talk to me a couple weeks ago. She flat out told me that DQ is showing signs of a budding sociopath. And she confirmed what I already knew. There is no cure. There is no drug. It's 100% up to her to choose how she's going to live her life.

It's terrifying. Coming to terms with this reality. You know it happens. But deep down you think it happens to other peoples families. It couldn't happen to yours. You did all the right things. 

We are at a stand still. I went for family therapy with DQ last night. I told the therapist about not being able to forgive her and that I am detached. And that I won't be able to change my course of thinking until I see some effort on DQ's part. She has to actually believe what she did was wrong, and show remorse, before I can forgive her. 

In Which He Loves Me

I knew. Long before he was ready to admit it. Sometimes he would look at me, like I'm not real. Or he would take in a breath, about to say something and then he stopped.

I can't blame him. I'm pretty guarded too. Telling someone you love them is powerful. It equates to saying, 'I'm vulnerable, and you're the one person who could hurt me.'

I knew I could love him. Easily. After our 24 hour long date. It was only a matter of whether that would be good for me. Would he change? When I realized he is good, I let go. Then I just had to wait for him to catch up. Or was it catch on?

Mr. Security stayed with us last weekend. The impending weather doom lurking and all. We'd made plans to watch Ultron and have a couple drinks Sat. night. I was so tired by that time, that I skipped the drinks and dozed on the couch through the movie. 

He woke me up and made me move to the bedroom. As he was tucking me in, I was fussing about being so tired, and no fun. Apologizing for falling asleep. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. Saying, "Relax baby, I love you. I'll be right back."

In my head I'm all, 'oh thank god!', but I tell him I love him too. He was up and out of the room so fast, it was almost confusing. 

I was more awake by the time he got back. "You love me." I say to him. His eloquent reply, "I didn't mean to say that out loud. I'm drunk. I'm being a dumb boy."  

Needless to say I was a little miffed. I rolled over thinking, 'What the fuck? Who accidentally says I love you?'

Fast forward to the next night. I'd been brooding all day. When we were getting ready for sleep, curled up in bed, I noticed he was very quiet. I asked what he was thinking about and he said, "What I said last night." 

This gives me the opportunity to tell him, "I've been thinking about it too. And if saying I love you makes him a dumb boy, then what does it make me? Because I said it back to you." He gets this look of surprise on his face. "You did?"

Well apparently, Mr. Security didn't hear me. He was so wrapped up in his head, and he ran out so fast, he missed it when I told him I love him, too.  He back peddled hard because of it. 

When we got all that straightened out... both laying our vulnerable cards on the table, I told him I knew he loved me. I was just waiting for him to figure it out.

An Odd Weekend

It was an odd weekend here. For days before, they'd been warning us about impending weather. First it was thought the hurricane would hit here. At one point the models showed they eye crossing directly over the South East tip of VA. 

So we all prepared. And we waited. 

Normally hurricanes don't make me nervous. I've been through enough of them to know when to sweat. And this one wasn't going to be big. 

The problem? The two solid weeks of rain we'd already had. I was worried that any amount of wind would bring trees down easily. With the ground so saturated it wouldn't take much.

But...we didn't get a hurricane. We got rain and wind from two other systems. There was horrible flooding. No major catastrophe. 

It just felt odd. Being cooped up in the house. Waiting to see what would happen. Pressed down by dreary weather. More of the same. 

I think we've discovered that we are not home bodies. We don't like being stuck at home. Not that we have to go, go, go. But we like the option if we're inclined.

Also... we need some sunshine. Weeks of this overcast, wind driven drizzle, has left everyone Blah.  They say the sun will come out tomorrow. Lets hope so.