*sigh* Whatever.

Tomorrow is a big day.  Lately, all days feel like big days but tomorrow is significantly bigger than most.  In the past several days since I've posted, I took Natasha in for her regular counseling appt.,  had a 2 and 1/2 hour phone interview with a clinician from the NIMH in Maryland, and delivered Jason to the airport at 4a.m. for his flight to Alaska.  The counseling appt. went ok.  Natasha first refused to participate and said she was not going to talk, so her counselor had both of us come in and eventually pressed Nat into joining.  It turned out ok and we got some good mood charts to do for homework but Natasha was really angry at me later because I had told her that she didn't have to talk if she didn't want to.  So... even though she was feeling great at the close of the session, she still chose to hold on to the idea that I had betrayed her.  Even though I never once told her that she had to answer and I told the counselor she wasn't interested in participating.  *sigh*  Whatever. 

Then, the phone thing which went very well for a phone interview.  I didn't have any interruptions or distractions because it was at 6:30a.m., but it was hard.  She had me on speaker phone so another psychiatrist could listen in, which was fine, but it was hard to go back over a lifetime and remember time lines and medicine changes and moods and all.  Kind of exhausting.  I feel bad because I bet a really great mom would know all this stuff but I have a way of blocking out painful memories and that doesn't serve me well in this situation.  I tried though and the clinician seemed to think I was doing a good job. We weren't able to finish all of the questions she had and at one point she said "I don't have to tell you that your daughter is a complicated little girl."   Yeah.  You don't have to tell me.  I really want someone to just have some definitive answers but I'm trying not to get discouraged.  *sigh* Whatever... again. 

Jason heard part of the conversation and when I got off the phone he said  "Wow.. sounds really bad when you say it all together like that!"  I had been answering questions about our drug use, mental illnesses and criminal history.  Blegh.  So... now he's gone and I haven't even talked to him since we said goodbye at the airport.  He can't call from where he is but I know he got there safely because of his debit card activity.  I hope he's doing well!  Tomorrow morning at 10:30a.m. we have our 75 minute appt. with the pediatric bipolar specialist who works at Seattle Children's Hospital and the University of Washington as well as her own private practice.  I have all the 50 some pages of intake paperwork filled out and I'm excited but really incredibly nervous.  I'm terrified she's going to tell us she has no idea what's wrong with Natasha.  *sigh*  Whatever, yet again. 

I'm so overwhelmed by all of this.  It really stinks.  Plus Natasha has been really cruel lately and I know she's anxious too but she handles it poorly.  After the morning appt., I have the rest of the phone interview with NIMH at 1:30.  The clinician said we had about 1/2 hour left.  Then at 3p.m. we have her appt. with Dr.J for a med check and hopefully he will start her on Lamotrigine.  In the midst of all of this craziness, I'm learning that my recurring depression that I've had and have been treated for off and on since I was 15, coupled with my sometimes sudden suicidal thinking, anger issues and weeks of time where I block out all else and focus on creating, (writing books, poetry, building things, doing art) is probably bipolar 2 instead of recurrent major depression.  I don't even want to talk about it to anyone because people will probably think I'm being a hypochondriac and I just think I have the same thing my daughter has.  *SIGH*  WHATEVER....AGAIN.

Where's My Personal Assistant?!?!?

I am so relieved that Natasha is at school today.  She wasn't happy about it, but she's there.  Over the past two months, she's been in such a bad place, it's taken over every aspect of our lives.  Now as I'm having more and more days that aren't completely filled with trying to stabilize her, I'm realizing how behind I've gotten.  And how exhausted I am.  As of tomorrow evening, Jason will have worked 110 hours in the past two weeks and he leaves for Alaska again next week.  There he'll be working his usual Alaskan 70 hours a week until August.  Poor guy!  I'm so thankful to have a workhorse for a husband.  We're going to need all the extra hours he's getting to pay for Natasha's Dr. visits! I'm really going to miss him. As usual, with Nat calmed down, we've calmed down too.  In fact that seems to be the only time we really argue, come to think of it.  Her storms effect us all in such a huge way. My house is a mess, my laundry is overwhelming, the grass needs to be mowed, the cars need to be washed, the girls room are both crying for a complete spring cleaning, the dogs haven't been walked in a week, I have paperwork that needs to be taken care of a.s.a.p., the fridge is full of leftovers... I could go on forever it seems.  But, it's so nice to be at the point where I can even notice this stuff.  Time to play catch up on life.  And in the meantime, I've decided to take Natasha to see the local specialist as well as continue trying to get her in to the NIMH.  My amazingly supportive, wonderful mother is coming over on the 2nd to pick up Katie and take her for a spring break, break.  Natasha and I have plans to do a makeover in her bedroom, patching holes in the walls and repainting and then we'll go on the 9th to see Dr. Hlastala for the first of three appointments.  Later that day we'll be visiting Dr.J and hopefully at that time he'll start her on the Lamotrigine.  I wish I could take the week off from work so I could get completely caught up on everything before Jason leaves but I'd probably just end up sleeping all week anyway.

Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud

I think Natasha went the whole day yesterday without yelling at anyone.  She's still got a lot of anxiety but I can't think of one time yesterday that she blew up.  Unfortunately she's spent the whole week home from school.  No amount of yelling, pleading, threatening, promising or any other "ing" seems to have any effect on her ability to go.  And it's not that she's too tired, she's just so worried.  Worried that since she'd gaining weight on the risperdal, her friends will call her fat, worried that she doesn't have anything to wear, worried that she'll start laughing uncontrollably in class again and get in trouble or people will call her weird, worried that she'll start worrying and her teacher won't let her talk to the counselor.. etc.  *sigh*  If only she was as worried as I am that she'll have to repeat 6th grade!

Splitting Doll Hairs

I despise it
I adore you
It exhausts me
You fill me with pride
It scares me
You comfort me
I'm confused my it
Your eyes tell me
It is it
You are you
I love you

Pediatric Bipolar Research Study or Pediatric Bipolar Specialist

Another encouraging step last night.  I got a call back from a psychologist here in Washington who just so happens to specialize (really specialize, not pretend specialize.) in pediatric bipolar disorder.  AND who is taking appointments for evaluations!  In my search I came across the name of Dr. Stephanie Hlastala, who I called and left a message for on the off chance she was taking new patients.  She called me back last night and gave me three separate appt. times that she could see Natasha  in the next two weeks!  Since we don't have insurance it's not going to be cheap because she does a three visit evaluation but I expected as much.  Now we're getting somewhere!

I also got a call back from the clinician at the NIMH yesterday afternoon and we set up our time for the two hour phone interview.  She'll be calling me on the 4th of April.  So I'm now faced with the decision of whether or not I want to try and wait and see if the NIMH invites us to join the research study, on the opposite coast, providing every scan and test imaginable and the expertise of... experts, for free, or go with the specialist who is available immediately and who's office is 30 minutes from our house but will set us back a large (large to my current bank statement anyway,) sum of money.  Or should I do both?  What to do... what to do.

Not So Secrets of NIMH - Part 2

I had my first "interview" this morning with a research assistant from the NIMH.  She explained the types of programs they are doing right now and gave me an outline of how they work.  There are two different studies going one, one for pediatric bipolar disorder that clearly fits into the current DSM's parameters and one for SMD.  She said they have an inpatient or outpatient study available and explained how each would work.  The inpatient study is pretty extensive and the child may be there for several months.  They wean them off of whatever medication they're on and start fresh.  Then they participate in a clinical trial of medications that lasts 8 weeks. During that time they attend school, have their own nurse in the four bed facility and meet with the psych. every morning.  The NIMH flies out one parent every other week for a one day visit and provides food, travel and lodging. Eventually, after the clinical trial is concluded, they are stabilized and returned home. 

For the outpatient study they work with the home psych to advise on diagnosis and medication after they do extensive tests there in Maryland. Then the child returns every year for more tests and they do phone interviews every six months.  They follow the child until age 25.  I'm excited because she said they are more than happy to provide 2nd opinions and your child does not have to have the diagnosis before they qualify.  So... this may be a good opportunity for Natasha.  A clinician is going to call me back and set up the second phone interview, which will be about 1.5 hours.  Then they will present the case at the next meeting of Dr.s there and decide whether or not to accept Natasha into the facility.

Just Before Dawn

I watch you breathe.
Your small shoulders look so frail,
your little ribcage so vulnerable as it rises and falls.

Your eyelashes, thick and long,
gently rest on your face
as your eyes dart back and forth beneath the lids.

I wonder. 

What are you dreaming?  Is it sweet or full of sorrow? 
Does the blackness that haunts my sleepless hours,
touch your dreams?

The stars are fading. 
Soon the sun will peek it's head over the distant mountains
and grace us with it's glory. 

I feel the darkness in my soul tugging,
it's fingers flickering like flames, licking at the edges of every thought. 
I fear it will consume me. 

I close my eyes tight,
tears bleeding down my cheeks from my bladed eyelids. 
Why can't I lose this?

Opening my eyes,
I look at you through an ocean,
and fear grips my heart like an icy cold fist.

How will you survive this black, this shadow? 
Born of two broken hearts, scarred with hungry swipes of an unseen demon,
begging us back to the dirt. 

She is broken too. 
She was born with black eyes.
Her storm is different but somehow the same.  Pulling her.

But you.  Did you hide inside me? Staying very still so it did not see you? 
Or did the hooded cloak watch you grow and decide you were too pure to touch? 
Perhaps.

As the room grows light I feel the fingers pulling, tearing at me to walk away. 
I stay. 
Your small shoulders will keep me. 

I pull your blanket up and cover them. 
Those tiny shoulders. 
I clench my teeth and make myself watch you.

Digging my fingernails into my palms,
I welcome the pain and let myself sob.
I know your shoulders will keep me.
-J