Spring break

This has been a very hard return to my Minnesota life. I have spent my free time sleeping and crying. I feel the fog is lifting as I have explored the options for our son's care. I have tried not to mutter the following words aloud because tears quickly form in a non-logical form. I do not pretend to know how this situation is similar to anyone else. I do not have a connection. I have crappy decision 1, 2 or 3 to make and like I said; I finally think I have found some clarity, but it did take me a week of hard work and a lot of sadness. By the time you get to the end, you will see it is still fuzzy.

I think it was a mis-step to fly home Monday morning instead of Sunday night. I have done so many things lately to save money. I felt the consquence once again of not leaving immediately and staying one more night. It was not only hard to get up early because of obvious reasons, but also because my heart was screaming "DON'T LEAVE HIM".

I haven't felt such maternal instinct like this since the day we left in early October. Every time I fly off the ground of Maryland, tears form easily. I can never believe I am leaving my son alone in a hospital just because I need to work, but this time was different. I felt sickly about it. Our stay was rough because we didn't recognize our son. Pale, dark circles under his eyes, rashes on his thighs. Why was he hardly able to keep his eyes open? Talk to us? Run around? Enjoy tickles? Why isn't he watching his ipad?

I spent my Monday afternoon on the phone with our local social worker, school district officials, wrapping up negotations on a property I am selling. It was 2 pm. I had 10 more things to do. I couldn't continue. I took a hot shower and passed out for a few hours. Each phone call I needed to make, was to explain that nothing was clearer than the day we left and how badly he looked was breaking my heart.

I had so much trouble waking up that afternoon from my nap. I muttered through the evening wrapping up loose ends. I tried to get ready for returning to school.

Tuesday remained extremely hard. I wasn't sure I should be at work. Every alone moment was in tears. I didn't want to talk about spring break. It was not a warm trip to Mexico or anything fun. I didn't get much done personally and I hadn't enjoyed my 4 days with Grant.

Every morning (at work) I have the same schedule. I get in at 7. I have 25 mins before I have hall duty. I sit in the library trying my hardest to get tasks done like grading because I am only montioring behavior. And on Tues during this little time between the first bell ringing and the next.... I surprise myself with the person I open up to as he casually asks me about my break/my son.

I have known him for years and we always speak of heavy topics. I like this about our friendship, but I don't know why I am confessing how shitty spring break was to him. He doesn't deserve to be dumped on like this and I immediately regret it as tears run down my face. I have to teach for the next 6 hours. I push my decisions and tears away. I can't think about Grant now. But, I do. There is too much to figure out.

I told him that May 9 is now Grant's official discharge date. It is set in Jello. Doesn't make it easier to not know. They are adjusting meds. We are waiting for answers about whether ECT is an option for him. We have to decide about his meds. We also have to decide, now that he has missed 4th grade, if he should return to his school he went to last year or if it's time to try something new. If we un-enroll him and enroll him somewhere else; where will he go? What will we do with him this summer? I need an adult highchair and a team of people to help me. There is a lot to do before he comes home.

I am going to spend my weekend preparing for his return. I am in a "nesting" mode if you will. I don't know what else to call it. But, this is my plan after I finish writing this.

Each conversation I had with various professionals this week answered the most pressing concerns. I reached out to the hospital more times than I wish to admit to calm the fuck down. Why is he shaking? Why does he have a rash? Who is going to help us when he returns? Is he coming home in a few weeks or a few months? If we do ECT, what are the worst and best scenarios? If we keep on these meds what is the worst that can happen?

As you can see, it's a bit too much. And then there is a more depressing realization bubbling under the surface. Which is come to an even clearer conclusion that I don't know my son. He sat there, laying against me as I stroked his beautiful brown curls. I ask myself - Who are you? I do not know. With no interest in his ipad or the toys in front of him...what does he wish to do? If we deny him access to soda to dump down the sink?-What will he do? If he lives in arm splints, can we ever swing again or run around easily? Or shit, do anything?

He is not punching his face like he used to because he can't due to arm splints. Regardless, his physical attempts at trying to self-injure were at all time lows due to heavy and new medications he is now on.

Why am I not celebrating? I believe it's because I don't recognize him. He is a shell. He is not even a boy. He just wants to sleep. He has nothing to say to us other than he wants to go home. He isn't moving around. He has no joy, but he is also not crying like he sometimes does. He only gets upset now when we leave him.

The little boy laying next to me can't keep his eyes open. His mouth is wide open and drool runs down his chin. What is happening? I remove his helmet so I can see him. Let his head breathe. I let him nap. I can't stand to see him this way. I would rather see him asleep so we let him... regardless of the rules. What will I do? Is this what we wanted? How am I supposed to know what to do...