Friday, September 14, 2012

44* Miserable Memory

   Today, I finished cleaning under Kenny's bed and packed the inside of his headboard- a bunch of trinkets and cards, keys and locks...a few old papers and banking stuff made its way to the garbage. Then I attempted to go through his school stuff and other notebooks and folders>> its very difficult with Vincent wanting to block my every move. He doesn't want to get rid of anything and I understand how he feels but there is no way for us to keep everything...I only managed to throw out some old chemistry exams,,however there are plenty more! so many notebooks and folders of chem...and lots with gaming information and character profiles--I even found an old notebook with his special language.Unfortunately, I am unable to interpret what it says.
   I also came across some essays from his english class. One of them is entitled 'Miserable Memories'; it is about his stay in a mental health facility when he was 15 years old. It was an experience he wanted to have-he started talking about it after he began therapy sessions> he was intrigued by the idea. As it turned out, it wasn't at all what he expected and did not live up to his expectations. For me, it was a nightmare! Kenny had been pulled out of school for safety reasons and I quit my job to stay home with him and get him enrolled in therapy and independent study. at the time, he was severely depressed and had been for awhile, but he had not been treated outside of the school psychologist.There was an incident at the school which required the response of the C.A.R.E. Team and that was how we were able to get referrals to find him a psychologist. His first therapist was a woman and they didn't click at all- Kenny could easily outwit and confuse her and I sensed that she felt I couldn't keep him safe. Of course, she was wrong--I never allowed him to be alone when he was in a "suicidal mood"and I always remained within a relatively close distance from him. I talked with him, hung out with him, took him to all his appointments and made sure he maintained his few friendships by allowing him time with his friends as before.However, for some reason the therapist was doubtful and afraid for Kenny's safety so she talked us into signing a 24 hr stay, which was supposed to take place here in Fresno and I was told I could stay with him. It turned out that was a lie, although it did not matter once the county had my signature so they found him a placement in Ventura county and there was nothing i could do. I fought with the counselors and the security at the center. I was not allowed to see Kenny all day--apparently he had asked for me but was not allowed either. I was a wreck>crying and begging them to at least give me permission to drive him--it was awful, security called the police, saying I was hysterical--Mi Mama was there and tried to explain to the authorities that I did not give permission for my son to leave town but it was all to no avail. We left to get Kenny some clothes and when we returned he was strapped to a gurney and put into an ambulance>>then they took him away without telling me where he was going. I kept calling and calling everyone I could in the county facility but the nurse said someone would contact me.I stayed awake all night--completely freaked out,(I didn't find out where he was until after midnight), it was the worst day of my life; to have my child ripped away from me--it's horrible the power some people have and how they don't take into consideration the effect it has on other people's lives. No one would listen to me, and the therapist lied to me more than once. I filed complaints and spoke to supervisors but it did not matter. All that changed was my son spent ten days in a facility where even the nurses and counselors told me he did not belong.They put him on anti-depressants which made him feel sick and he slept for three days. after a few days of difficulty, I was able to find out where he was and in those ten days, I made four trips to see him.I was much stronger then,fierce and I put up a fight to get Kenny home and I was won! He came home knowing that a mental facility is not where he belonged.
   His words: "I seemed to be the only patient who got along with every other patient, but my problem was less severe than anyone else's.The bad news is that I didn't learn anything from the whole thing.I just had fun and indebted my family to a medical institution."   
   In order to get him released, I had to agree to having him medicated. That lasted a little over a year. I'm not sure if it helped--Kenny didn't believe so,,i made sure the dose was as low as allowable>>I would not agree to an increase. they were always pushing to increase his dosage. the only significant change I noticed was weight gain, which Kenny truly disliked. after he returned home, I demanded a new therapist for Kenny and this time, I was given information about my choices. I think the second therapist was a much better match for Kenny and after a year, Kenny had gained a little self confidence and a whole lot of knowledge. He was weened off the meds and released from care his junior year of high school--which he rejoined at the beginning of second semester.That is when I thought it was all better...he made such progress for a few years, then the depression creeped back into his life.In his words: "I came back home with the notion of suicide gone...temporarily." 
   Wow,that took me off on a tangent...

Element of the day (day 44)
#40) Zr-Zirconium -] metal 
Discovered in 1789 by Martin Heinrich Klaproth, Germany.
A hard, lustrous, gray-white metal. Resistant to water, most acids and bases. Used as a shield against corrosive compounds in the chemical industry, for steel alloys, bricks, ceramics and abrasives, flashbulbs, explosive primers, lamp filaments and artificial gemstones. Also in deodorants.

Zircon is the only zirconium mineral of commercial importance, produced from placer deposits and sands in Australia, Russia, South Africa, the USA, and Brazil.

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