A SURPRISE by Patricia Gager

My son, Toby, was diagnosed as ADHD with emotional disturbance at age 5. He was misdiagnosed for twenty years and it took a lot of constant begging and staying on top of it to try to get the correct diagnoses.  My son's been incarcerated in our local county jail for sixteen months as of April 1, 2017.  He was finally diagnosed in jail last November with autism. It explained a lot of his repetitions, fixations, and other things when he was growing up. By my estimate, my son is about 13-15 years old brain wise, and turned 25 chronologically in jail. He's charged with a 2nd degree felony by his own admission and his court appointed attorney has done absolutely nothing. 

A couple weeks ago a friend of mine referred me to an attorney who handles these types of cases. I called and spoke to him over the phone several times.  He wanted to meet my son before agreeing to take my son's case — to make sure they got along. I was surprised, but thinking about it later, it made sense to me.

The attorney saw my son on Tuesday. I went for my weekly visit on Wednesday. My son was in a fairly good mood explaining that the attorney had come to see him. He said, "We got along good." 

Before I left my son said, "Mom, did you know this attorney is blind?"  I told him I didn't know because we'd only spoken on the phone.

After my visit with my son, I went to see the attorney and, sure enough, he was blind. He had his cane and everything. I walked away feeling much better about my son's situation just from the intelligent conversation and the options he provided on what strategies we could use. I felt better than I had in the last sixteen months. I never imagined I would get an attorney with a disability to help my son with a disability. I just wanted to share.

Toby with his sister, Felicia, and mom, Patricia.

Toby with his sister, Felicia, and mom, Patricia.

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HAPPY PIC

Photo Credit: Marisa Farnsworth

Photo Credit: Marisa Farnsworth

Spring surprise on the stairway.

Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

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NOT ACCEPTING THINGS by Tama Bell

It really does bother me so much when people, especially when mental health officials/experts tell me, "There is nothing you can do."

One person even quoted a part of the serenity prayer to me while I was explaining the pain I was in about my son's illness and recent setbacks. He referred to the part which says, "Accept the things I cannot change."

Thankfully, I'd heard of a quote myself, by someone else who must have been told to just accept what is. I repeated that quote to him. “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change.  I am changing the things I cannot accept.”  (Angela Y. Davis)

This has truly become my mantra.

 

Photo Credit: Zoe ToselandDr. Seuss LoraxFlickr.com  

Photo Credit: Zoe Toseland
Dr. Seuss Lorax
Flickr.com

 

 

MY SON'S LIFE - A VIDEO by Sherry Hunter

https://animoto.com/play/5e7TRagB5hYZh2IgVDw0sw

Sherry Hunter is a brave, loving mom.  She's created a video tribute to her brave, loving son, Mitchel, who lives with and suffers from serious mental illness — schizophrenia.  Pictures are often stronger than words. See Sherry's video. Click on the link above.

Everyone, like Sherry, who's sharing their story on this blog, is trying to bring serious mental illness (SMI) into our common discourse.  Maybe, then, families and individuals coping with SMI will begin to receive support from the broader public just as it has come around to support people with cancer, AIDS, autism, and other once stigmatizing conditions.

HAPPY PIC

Photo Credit: Marisa Farnsworth

Photo Credit: Marisa Farnsworth

Awesome blossoms.

Hope you have a good weekend everybody!

 

 

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PROFIT TRUMPS PATIENT CARE by David L. Bain

I spent over three hours yesterday with the parents of an adult son with serious mental illness (SMI). He was doing okay on a treatment plan on Medi-Cal. Then Medi-Cal changed service providers and the new providers wouldn't cover his medication. They gave him pills they would pay for.

His psychiatrist wrote a request/demand letter stating his need for the original meds.  It was denied. The psychiatrist wrote a second letter. It was accepted. The letter arrived at the parents house the day after their son ended his life. The day before the son had said, "I need the old script. These new pills aren't working for me." 

I just love it when profit trumps patient care.

David is Executive Director of NAMI, Sacramento.

Photo Credit: Sorrow by Ali AmirkhiziFlickr.com 

Photo Credit: Sorrow by Ali Amirkhizi
Flickr.com

 

IN A STATE OF SHOCK by Kim West

March 12, 2017

Ty is a victim again. Tyler, our 18-year-old son was beaten up in jail last night. The guy who beat him was a lot bigger then Ty. No one stopped it. Saturday night is commissary night. No one called the guards. They didn't want to get locked in before they received their commissary. There are parts of the event he doesn't remember. He fell asleep and, thank God, he woke up this morning. No one checked on him during the night and he hasn't been checked on by a nurse or doctor. Why would you put a kid, who never hurt anyone, in with violent offenders?

Now, Ty has a headache and a black eye. He's nauseated and feels drunk and tipsy. This is concussion number 5 or 6. All have been severe. Another traumatic brain injury! Getting beat up is nothing new for my baby.

This will not help Ty's other problem. He hears voices. If only doctors had kept him in the hospital long term. Out of 15 ER visits, in under 2 years, he's spent only 2 weeks total as an inpatient. He's been hearing voices for at least a year and a half. He's never been stable. He's going to see a forensic psychiatrist next month. 

It's obvious that Muskegon County has a debtor's jail that relies on state money per inmate per day. They are being sued by the ACLU because of it. My main point is county mental health, the police & jail, and probation and parole are motivated to not help. They're all getting paid and do not want to loose their cut of the money. How can we motivate a system that runs off the backs of the poor and mentally ill? These agencies could provide AOT (Assisted Outpatient Treatment) and other programs. They're motivated not to do it. They CHOOSE not to do it.

We have no CIT (Crisis Intervention Training) officers which adds to the problem. Not one trained mental health officer in the entire county. Possibly 2 of my family friends in the House of Representatives will give us a chance to speak at a committee hearing. My knowledge is extensive.  I've been taking care of vulnerable children for 30 years, the majority which are mentally or medically handicapped. Our licenses have been in foster care, adoption, and refugee assistance — specifically for medically fragile children.  I also supervised the housekeeping department for infectious control at Milwaukee County Hospital. I've worked for the Department of Health Services and the legal system for years. 

March 15, 2017, update:  Two days ago I sent a letter to Lt. Governor Calley. At first there was no response. Tonight he said he'll look into Ty's situation. He said we have no judicial power. I also called the Muskegon County jail commander, but he's on vacation. Eventually, I was connected to the jail administrator who seemed angry that I called.  I said, "Ty probably never got a punch in. He's not a fighter. We are pressing charges against the guy who beat him up."

The officer was abrupt.  I said, "I'm a Mom. How am I not supposed to worry?" He said to call jail medical services so I did. The nurse there lied to me and said Ty passed a neurological exam with flying colors. I said, "Ty hasn't passed a neurological exam in years and this is his 6th traumatic head injury. He is a patient at Mary Free Bed Concussion Rehab Clinic. Today, Ty's vision is blurry. He can't see. He's tipsy. Dizzy, His eyes are swollen with a red line going down his face. He was punched in the jaw. He's badly bruised. He doesn't remember parts of what happened. His head hit the floor. He was kicked. He's nauseated and has a headache. We have private insurance that will pay. We can meet you at the hospital."

The nurse replied, "What do you want me to do? "

"We'd like him to get checked out at the hospital by doctors and get an MRI."

"Well, I don't know. What is your phone number?"

I wonder. Did I make things worse for my kid? What should I do next?

March 16, 2017, update: Ty told us tonight that he has a March 22, 2017, sentencing, moved up from June. This hearing will be in Judge Hickes court room, Muskegon County. We took a plea because of his deteriorating mental state. Ty thinks he's going to prison for a year or more - If the judge is merciful. Just scared to death at this point. The sentencing is in less then a week.  The forensic evaluation won't be finished until next month. Our guardianship hearing is scheduled for April 26. This feels like my son's starring in the movie "Unstoppable" with Denzel Washington. We just don't know how to stop this train.

It's apparent to us when Ty is sick. His eyes are blank and we can't talk to him. Especially when he's delusional, paranoid, and is hearing his commanding voices. Just pray, wherever the judge puts him, they'll help him. Hope the judge considers his developmental delay, serious mental illness, and intellectual disability,  Although he has a high IQ, Ty needs mental health treatment for his voices.  We saw him by video tonight. He's very bruised up. He's groggy, doesn't remember previous conversations, and his vision is poor. He kept squinting as he was trying to see us on the camera.

It's so sad. Tyler, my son, is trying to be a man but he's really a boy. This whole thing has left me in a state of shock.

 

Tyler

Tyler

INTERNAL DRUM by Patrick Ranahan

In my memoir, I've divided the sections by the seasons — summer/fall/winter/spring.  I introduce each section with one of my son's poems. The following is the poem for Spring.

INTERNAL DRUM
by Patrick Ranahan

Those footsteps beneath my window
came and went so fast. The ground,
still frozen in spots, begins
its long thaw. The boy passed by
without incident, just the sounds
of his feet, a mud-sucked heartbeat.

When I think about my heartbeat,
its patterns and palpitations, windows
and valves busy with blood, the sounds
of circulation and murmur, the ground
pulses right along with me. It works
by pure magic, this internal drum,

begins anew every moment, always beginning
another push, another pump. Heartbeats
seem to be generated by
superhuman force. I asked the window
what it thought. It said, "there's the ground,
trees point to the sky, I hear no sounds.

But if you can hear the gift of sounds,
place them on the page as evidence of what began
and ended in an instant." A survey of the ground
complete, a military jet maneuvers, its heartbeat
hushed, into its inland cavern, its window-
less womb, where tools clang when dropped by
the uniformed hand. States away, traffic rushes by
the dancing cop, his frantic hands, the short sounds
of whistle and clap. A broker puts his nose to the window
on the thirtieth floor, mutters, "I must begin
my day," clutches his chest and drops, his heartbeat,
tired of his refrain, shows him the ground.

Out in a suburban field, a child squats upon the ground,
runs his fingers through the mud, listens as cars race by.
Today in school he learned the subject heartbeat,
he held his wrist and counted as the sounds
came through his ears by stethoscope. "Begin,"
the teacher said, the children obeyed. The window

took on the fog of nervous youth, and the ground began
its long stretch from the window to the sounds
of the eastern sea, all of this by way of heartbeats.

Published in
Latitude on 2nd
Cool Waters Media, Inc
2012

 

Photo Credit: DuCkle?<3Flickr.com

Photo Credit: DuCkle?<3
Flickr.com

From the oldest