When I opened up my web browser this morning I saw an announcement for the young prince of England's first birthday. This should have no connection to me. Except it does. I was watching as the royal family first held up their beautiful boy for the cameras to see. I was siting in the waiting room of a psychiatric hospital. My own beautiful daughter had tried to end her life by running in front of a car. During her evaluation to determine if she should be hospitalized she graphically told about how she was hearing the voice of Satan. I do not cry often, but I had to leave the room to compose myself after that.
L is doing great this summer. She brought one of her giant stuffed animals to summer camp this summer. Instead of getting mad at her the staff asked why she did not bring both her giant bears. I quickly stomped out any idea of that happening - however it was nice that L gets to be herself at this camp. She still gets teased. Not as much as she has been in the past. Mostly that is due to the councilors themselves accepting her for who she is, then the kids do the same. Things are not perfect, it has only been a week since she bit someone. I cannot say that we have passed the summer without a single meltdown.
I suppose it is not just special needs parents that are constantly dealing with the ups and downs of life. Yet, I would hope that most people's ups and downs are not the ultimate thrill ride at some amusement park that has decided not to switch riders every three minutes.
We met with our new psychologist this past weekend. She seems to think that S is not exactly bipolar. Instead she things she would be better diagnosed as schizoaffective disorder - bipolar type. The reality is that by changing her diagnosis nothing would really change. She will still be the same kid with the same behaviors. She will still have the same medication, and the same needs. The new diagnosis would also better explain her extreme paranoia, her difficulty connecting with reality, and her emotional immaturity.
S has been diagnosed with bipolar for nine years. She was three when she was diagnosed. I knew from birth that S was special. Nine years ago the acceptance and education about the possibility of children having bipolar disorder was not as tolerant as it is today. Not that I am saying it is a walk in the park nowadays. We would see a therapist, they would tell me she is not bipolar. I would tell them I did not care what they call it, help us. They would do everything they could to see if it was a different problem. Eventually they would agree that it was bipolar and tell us they did not know what to do to help her. Sometimes they helped us find someone new. Sometimes they just asked us not to come back. It got irritating when they admitted that they could not help us but still wanted to take our money.
I have fought for acceptance of childhood bipolar for nine years. I have gotten my family to use the words. I have spoken them at school districts, to college professors, and to the general public. I did not want my daughter's diagnosis connected with shame. So what she was bipolar, lets move past that and actually help my child. Over the years the fight has gotten easier.
Now I may be in for a new fight. I have yet to thoroughly research schizoaffective disorder. However, from what I have found it is a disorder that combines symptoms of schizophrenia and bipolar. The big difference between bipolar with psychotic features and schizoaffective disorder is that the lack of reality, paranoia, and hallucinations are not dependent upon the individuals mood. Not a lot is known about schizoaffective disorder. There is little acceptance for adults - let alone children. It is another battle for acceptance that must be fought.
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