routerecalculation

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is the ACH calling, how are you this evening?”

“…………Fiine………..thankyou…..”

“Well, that’s good.  There’s been an escalation tonight.  It was pretty serious, but everything is ok”

“Really?  But the day seemed so good…I don’t get it…is there anything I need to do?

“No, everything is ok now.  The team will call you in the morning”

“Can I speak to her?”

“No, that’s not possible right now”

“Ok, thanks for calling me.  Please let me know if there is any change”

“Will do, have a good sleep.”

“Sleep?  Right.  I guess I should sleep.  Thank you”

I’ve had that call 5 times now.  I can’t quite describe the feeling.  I actually have felt the blood run out of my face.  The fear is intense and the sadness overwhelming, however as I begin to understand, the intensity does lessen.

Over the last 4.5 months, we have been through 2 residents, many, many nurses, TA’s (therapy assistants), and have had 1 main family counselor and 1 main psychiatrist. You would think that with all of the intense counseling, classes, treatments, cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT), sessions and medications that everything would be fixed by now.  That’s just not how mental health works.  It’s complicated, twisted and has many layers to it, and revisits in different ways.

Have you ever tried to lose weight?  I have, and it’s brutal.  I really thought I succeeded a few times, but for some reason it keeps coming back.  You make the decision – I’m going to lose weight.  You set yourself up, clean the pantry and get rid of temptations, put some positive slogans around the house, set up a good app on your phone, and you might even join a support group.  The first day goes pretty good.  “I can do this, oh yes I can.  I’ve got this.”  First day goes pretty good.  Can’t say you don’t think about eating a big bag of chips, or perhaps getting the pastry along with your coffee, but you don’t do it.  You’re tempted, but you don’t.  The first week goes pretty good.  A few minor challenges, but overall, not too bad.  Week 2 comes.  You’re a little tired, maybe discouraged a little, but still trying to focus on the goal.  You make it through breakfast, and you’re still a little hungry.  Have a glass of water, think about something else, go for a walk, get out of the kitchen.  You know this is what you have to do.  You know it so strongly, but for some reason, something speaks to you – maybe the fluffy white bread you bought for your kids is now calling your name.  You know what to do, but before you know it, you’re elbow deep.  You’ve not only made yourself a couple extra pieces of toast, with butter….and what the heck, jam too, but you’ve also scooped up a spoonful of peanut butter to eat while you’re putting the rest together.  You finish the toast, so quickly you don’t even really taste it – and the peanut butter is stuck to the roof of your mouth so the 20 oz. of juice you just chugged was totally necessary.

The aftermath of that experience is never good.  Guilt, frustration, disgust, disappointment.  How could I loose control like that! I just ruined all the hard work I’ve done.  Oh well, tomorrow is another day.  Eventually, the distractions and temptations are so overwhelming that you just give up.  Whatever, I can’t do this!  Why do I even try – this just never changes.  People say to you “just quit eating so much”, “go for a walk – just exercise more”, “just put your mind to it”, “all it takes is willpower”.  If you’ve tried, you’ve heard all of this – I know I sure have.

Now, lets take this scenario, and put it to mental health – specifically depression and anxiety. (I now believe that being over weight is just as much a mental health issue as anything else, but that’s a different discussion). A person feels depressed, and I don’t mean just a little down, I mean clinically depressed. They fight hard and say all of the same things as above. “I can do this.  I’ve got this.  Things aren’t really that bad.  There’s a light at the end of the tunnel”. The problem is, when you’re in the hole of depression, it doesn’t matter how much positive thinking and talk there is, it just doesn’t work – at least not until you’re ready.    It’s like being a tiny little creature in the middle of a big bucket of swirling water.  It desperately treads water, trying and trying, sinking a little bit more each time.  It might come for air a little bit, but no matter how hard it tries, it cant even see the edge of the bucket, let alone reach it.  People who are depressed can be ok for a time.  They try, stay distracted, use their tools, perhaps try and follow a safety plan, but sometimes things just come unwound and before you know it, they’re elbow deep.  The tricky part is that even though they may get through this one, they know another one is coming, which can be incredibly discouraging and overwhelming.

Sound hopeless?  Not at all.  That tiny little creature above somehow comes up with a last little piece of energy, changes direction, flips things around and starts inching towards the edge.  Why?  The bell rang.  Something happened that made sense and gave the little guy the will to live more than the desire to quit.  That desire to fight was ignited and the edge of that bucket came in to site.

I have had numerous conversations with the entire medical team, and often with my daughter about this very theme.  “Just try. Remember you’re tools.  Don’t you want to come home?”  It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized that for some reason, the bell hasn’t rung yet. I also learned that she is just as frustrated as we are, questioning why can’t I do this, when so many others seem to be able to. Pieces are there, and ocassionally there is a small light, but often still, the dark moments are so overwhelming that fighting through seems hopeless.

This is where we come in.  Don’t get me wrong, this is terribly frustrating, but if we quit being impatient, stop thinking about what we want and start thinking about what people need, we can begin to understand and be there for support.  Often there’s no need to even say anything.  A serious bout of depression or anxiety leading to an escalation can be terrifying to the one experiencing it, and I’ve found by just being there, and not saying anything at all, you can show how much you care. We don’t need to mock, or judge, or criticize when faced with someone in crisis.  Be there.  Stay neutral.  Try and listen or understand  how hard it really is, and just love unconditionally.  Most of all, don’t give up.  The bell will ring eventually – I have to believe that.

We need to talk about mental health.  The only way the stigma will disappear is if people start talking, stop judging and try to understand.  It will happen – it will.

2005/2006.

My youngest was pretty little, but all 3 kids were and still are really in to music. I’m a huge Micheal Buble fan, and would play one of his earlier CDs non stop. There was a song on there that my daughter loved. She would make every one be quiet and would sing at the top of her lungs. If I tried to sing along she’d tell me to be quiet and would start over again. The boys got a kick out of at first, and then just got really irritated. After awhile they’d beg me not to play the CD.

At some point I lost the CD – couldn’t find it anywhere. For years I wondered where that CD disappeared to but couldn’t find it.

2015

I found the CD. I don’t know how, but I found the CD. I decided to pop it in the player so next time I wanted a change I could put it on in my car. I picked my daughter up for a pass, this time just running errands. Anything was better than sitting in the hospital, so I picked her up and off we went.

As usual, she bounced around from CD to CD until she came upon the one. She looked at me and said “no way! Remember this? How did you find it?” She switched to the song, and began to sing:

For you are not alone,
I’m always there with you,
And we’ll get lost together,
Till the light comes pouring through.
When you feel like you’re done,
And the darkness has won,
Babe you’re not lo-o-ost. ……

Instantly me eyes welled up with tears. I really tried not to cry. I choked a little and pretended to have something in my eye, but it was too late. The flood gates opened and I couldn’t stop. She was just singing the song, but I was really feeling it. The words rang so deep within me – “when the world comes crashing down……”. The world indeed seemed to be crashing down.

Of course, if you know me, I’m not not a very pretty crier. I don’t manage to keep a clear face and be all beautifully tragic like the movie stars do it. The one single tear streaming down a cheek. Nope, not me. I get red and blotchy. My nose goes purple and eyes beet red – not a great sight. My daughter looked at me and couldn’t understand why I was crying. Of course I said I was just over tired and happy to see her, waited out the song and put something upbeat on. There was no connect in her brain between the emotion and words of that song. Front brain vs. back brain – she didn’t get it.

I think a lot of us have frustration with our kids. We want them to be emotional, hurt, cry, shout for joy, get angry, but often they just don’t. I didn’t understand why until this week. Disconnected front and rear lobes. Makes perfect sense.

After I dropped her off and knew she was safe and sound, I got back in my car and turned the song back on again.

I can’t believe it’s over
I watched the whole thing fall apart
And I never saw the writing on the wall
If I only knew, the days were slipping past
That the good times never last
That you were crying

Summer turned to winter and the snow it turned to rain
And the rain turned in to tears upon my face
I hardly recognize the girl you are today
And God I hope it’s not too late.

I haven’t cried that hard many times, but I had to let it out, and that day I cried for hours. All the way home. All the rest of the night. And then to sleep.

Every time I see my daughter now, I make sure to let her know she’s not alone. The light will come back. She is not lost.

Be strong. Get help. Reach out.

I drive a little yellow VW bug.  The engine on my Honda died, so I sold it for parts, and my dad and I headed for the auction lot to find something that matched the money I had in my pocket.  We came upon this little yellow bug.  I’m not sure how long it had been there, but it needed a boost to get started.  We drove it around the lot and decided it fit the bill(s).  There was no warranty on the car – and they warned us once it’s off the lot, it’s yours.  We drove off the lot – me in the vw, and my dad behind me incase there was a problem.  The electronics didn’t seem to be working, but it was driving ok.  Some of the lights were coming on and off, but we were headed to the shop to get it checked, so I wasn’t terribly worried.  After a little driving, some of the lights went off, and the signal lights started working – I didn’t have to stick my arm out the window to signal anymore.  We did the regular checks on the car.  Breaks were good, oil fine, battery needed changing, lights in the rear needed some bulbs – nothing hugely major – all very doable.

After having the car for awhile, things started popping up.  The engine light went on – ended up being the sparks and plugs.  The boys at the shop got them fixed up and it was all good.  The engine light went on again – this time it was the water pump.  After awhile, this engine light thing started stressing me out – big time.  The car didn’t come with a manual, which meant every time the light went on, I didn’t have a clue what for.  On it came again – this time, something to do with an oxygen sensor.  They said there is no point fixing it at this point (can’t remember the reason), but now I live with the stress of that darn engine light coming on whenever it pleases.  I know why it’s on, but it stresses me just the same, every single time.  When it goes off, I breathe a sigh of relief.  I know the problem is still there, but the light isn’t on, so I don’t have to worry about it.

Mental health is just like my check engine light.  No manual, and no real idea why it happens when it does.  In my situation I know its there, but sometimes things seem just regular and the light goes off – I don’t even think about it.  Life can be just rolling along and then bang, the engine light goes on and all hell breaks loose.  We can be out on a pass, perhaps at the mall walking around in circles because home is too far away and we have to be in public, and things seem just fine.  The conversation is going great, and then all of a sudden, that check engine light is flashing.  There are signs sometimes that you can notice – fidgeting, lack of focus, erratic behavior, and sometimes its as quick as “we need to go.  NOW”.  In those moments terror strikes.  Why?  Because there is no manual, and no way to really know what is going on and how serious it’s going to be this time.  That’s the terrifying thing about mental health issues – the picture you see on the outside, is not the same as on the inside.

Another tricky thing is mental health issues take many forms:  anxiety, depression, OCD, ADD, ADHD, schizophrenia, psychotic behaviors, eating disorders, self harm…….and I’m sure I’ve left out a whole bunch of others.  Mental health does not mean you walk funny, or need an organ transplant,  you’re not in a wheel chair, and in most cases you don’t look sick.

What do you do when the light goes on?  Reach out for help.  Go the hospital and tell them what’s going on.  Go to your Dr. and talk to them.  If you have to, call 911.  Get counselling if you can, and not only for your child.  Go talk to someone who is neutral and can help you understand. One of my bigger fears was that I would be questioned for being a bad parent – never happened. There are entire departments set for mental health illnesses.  Yes – mental health is an illness just like anything else.

I’m still driving the bug.  At this point, the engine light is on regularily.  Do I know why – no, and truthfully, I don’t really want to know because I can’t fix it anyway, I just need to drive.

Stop the stigma.  Get help.  Reach out.

I’m not a terribly emotional person.  I didn’t cry when I left the hospital the first time and had to leave my daughter behind.  I was exhausted, sleep deprived, confused, and really did not know what was happening.  I’m sure I’d be judged on many fronts (that’s why I haven’t really shared anything before). ” How does a mother go that long without knowing her child is having issues?“  “If she was really in tune with her kids, she would have known”. “She works too much.  She should have been there more often”. I know I’ve said these very things to myself.  My range of emotions was huge, but I didn’t cry.  Not at first, anyways.

The mental health ward is on the lowest level of the ACH.  You walk past oncology (I always say a prayer), immunology, ultrasound, diagnostics, emergency and then to an elevator just before PICU that takes you down.  After passing through the 3 different security doors, you enter in to a large open room.  I know I’ve talked about this before, but I want you to have a clear picture.

Contrary to popular belief, there aren’t kids banging their heads against the walls, screaming, drooling, moaning – all the things tv and movies make out mental health issues to look like.  Quite the contrary.  There are a maximum of 14 kids there at any given time, and numerous nurses, TA’s and security guards too.  You see sweet looking, happy faced little boys – no different from my own nephews.  You’ll see extremely thin, perhaps gaunt girls (and sometimes boys), that obviously are struggling.  You may see teens with brightly colored hair, often smiling and chatting.  Sure, ocassionally there will be an escalation where something has gone terribly wrong, but I find this happens more at night and isn’t a 24/7 occurrence.  When it does happen, they respond quickly and are able to block the patients on one side of the ward while they deal with it on the other.

The kids participate in intense programming and therapy.  They take yoga every day, have physical activity – probably more then they’d get elsewhere.  They have group therapy together, sometimes teen therapy (depending on the dynamics and patients at the time), counseling sessions, psychiatric sessions, family therapy sessions, individual work and sometimes a small amount of individual free time.  Friendships among patients are discouraged – they aren’t allowed to share much personal information, but they always seem to find a way.  There are 10 or so individual rooms, and a group room that will hold 3.  Each room has a bed, a bathroom, a closet, and sometimes a small desk.  The rooms and kids are subject to searches every day.  There are no secrets – or so they say, but as expected, the kids always find a way to smuggle or get things in.  There are 3 “NPR’s” that are small rooms with rounded walls and floor joints that your child might be put in if they are out of control.  There is also a high observation room for kids who need to have eyes on them 24/7, and need to be kept away from others.

There is a small but fully equipped kitchen where the meals are delivered to daily.  The kids are given hospital menus and choose what meals they want every day.  The meals are gross – really gross, but somehow the kids manage to eat.  Chicken parmesan has taken on a whole new meaning!  The kids have strict eating rules.  Eat at your assigned table.  Feet on the floor.  Finish (in our case) 50% of what you’re served.  Clean your dishes.  There are snacks like juice, milk, fruit, muffins and such that are made available a few times a day.  They keep toast and condiments on hand as well, so when all else fails they will eat something.  Sometimes they make, and burn, popcorn, and even cupcakes.

In the evening things get a little less serious.  Tuesday is bingo night – the prizes are amazing and the kids have a lot of fun.  This is up in the main cafeteria and patients throughout the hospital are allowed to attend.  Wednesday night is pet night on the 4th floor.  They have loveable dogs, cats, sometimes bunnies that the kids interact with.  Thursday night they have a clown named Sparkles that does a magic show.  She does face paint sometimes as well.  Other nights they will watch a movie, or sometimes do a craft.

Once a month or so there is a special family night.  The kids are allowed to invite a family member and share a special meal prepared by volunteers.  It’s a pretty big deal, the food is real, and the kids get to show off a bit.

Sound normal?  That’s the point.  It is.  Normal. The situation itself might not be normal, and it is frightening to leave the child you tuck in every night behind, but for the most part, the people suffering from this are just like you and me.  Small kids, teens, adults, seniors.  There is no distinguisher.

The stigma behind mental health does not show regular, every day people.  It’s not talked about, and people really have no idea.  1 in 3.  Look around you.  1 in 3.  Try not to judge.  Try and understand.  See it for what it is and if you even think for a moment that someone might be suffering, reach out and try to help.

If your child is at ACH, they will get great help.  The staff there works very hard to get your child safe enough to return home.  The average stay is about 2-3 weeks, but that doesn’t mean the average fix is.  As I was told this week, we need to watch vigilantly, choke back the emotion and be rational, and try to understand.

Don’t let go.  Get help. Reach out, and please, please get help.

“Hello?”
“Ms. Johnsen?”
(Why is the principal calling?)
“You’re daughter is missing……we can’t find her…..”

I’m not sure…..actually I’m very sure…….those are the most frightening words you’ll ever hear in your life.

As the mental health team works on trying to get your child home, they start testing the waters (so to speak) and slowly start putting your child back in to normal situations to see how they will react. It starts with a pass for a few hours. You go to the mall, have ice cream, buy a new tshirt (over compensation for guilt can be expensive) and spend a few hours pretending it’s just another day out, trying to feel normal. After a few successful tries, a trip home, then overnight, then a school trial. Its terrifying. They prepare a safety plan – what will you do if things start unwinding? You prepare your own safety plan and start trying to remove obstacles in your home that might be harmful. It was her safety plan (and I warned the team) where things came unwound.

“How long has she been gone?”
“About 20 minutes we think. We’re not exactly sure”
“Have you searched the school?”
“We’re doing that now”

At that point all life ceases to exist and you become hyper focused really quickly. I cannot urge you enough – if this happens to you, stop for a brief moment, breathe deep and listen to your gut. You are no good out of control, and your instinct just might save a life. I’m not going to go through all the details just out of respect to my kids. That was the most traumatizing day of my life . Here’s what I did. 1. Called the hospital – warned them of the situation. 2. Called my son and started my own search party where we both agreed to look. 3. Call the RCMP and use the words mental health – they take that seriously unlike many others. 4. Jump in my car and go search myself.

How far can someone go in 20 minutes? The picture playing in my mind was very different than the actual situation, but it didn’t matter – I was terrified. You see, I don’t think most people set out to do something wrong. Don’t be mistaken, with this kind of illness people do wake up and say “today’s the last”, but often mistakes and bad choices unwind in to something that wasn’t meant to happen.
We began to search and our gut instincts were right, she had headed for the river. At one moment spotted, standing at the edge of the bridge, and then the next running from her brothers shouts. Thank goodness he got there fast. We both jumped out of our vehicles and started searching. “How did she disappear again so fast?” We both split up, frantically searching and calling her name. I went one way, he went the other. Within moments I saw RCMP everywhere. On the other side of the river cars started pulling up with regular people stepping out of their cars, lining the river looking – a local search and rescue effort. My son headed down the side of the hill to the river bank, cutting his arms and legs on the ice and rocks. (Of all the days to wear shorts!) At one point he was running and fell in to the icy bank, soaking himself, but I don’t think he even notices. A lady came walking by and asked what we’d lost. At that moment I stopped and turned. I’m sure I was as white as the snow and I quietly said, ” my daughter. I can’t find her and I don’t know what to do”. There were police officers everywhere, or at least that’s how it felt. I was standing in a field of snow, still in my work clothes and leather work shoes, looking down at the river. “Please God, don’t let me see her there”. I looked up at the sky and started to scream “Where do I look?!!!! Tell.me what to do!!! I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!!”

I have never shaken my fist at God before, but that day I did. If ever there was a time for the clouds to separate and Him to speak that would have been it. But he didn’t.

An RCMP approached me. “Does she have a red jacket?” “Red, no…I don’t think so” Speaking on his mic then looking at me” does she have colored hair?“ “Yes! Yes she does” “We have her” Thank God. Thank God. Where is she? Where is my son? Where is she? Thank God. The RCMP secured her in their vehicle. No fight, no running, nothing dramatic. They’re a good at this, you see, they understand the fear for the victim just as much as they understand the family’s anguish at the situation. Have you ever been at ACH and seen police officers there? This is why. It’s not safe at that point for you to just take your child home or drive them to the hospital. We can’t know the fear that runs through their minds at that moment, so as much as you want to throw your arms around your child and tell them how much you love them, you don’t get to. She was taken back to a safe environment. By herself. With the RCMP.

“We found her”

“Where was she?”

“Where we thought”

“She’s safe now”

“Yes, for now. She’s safe”

Unfortunately we can’t always be the super hero parents we want to be. I still wear my pretend cape but it feels pretty thin and shabby sometimes. Just because you are going through this doesn’t mean you have failed. You are fighting, helping steer a boat you can’t really control. When they’re babies you can hold them, pick them up, make everything right. When adolescence hits you just long for those snuggle up days again, but things change.

Read the safety plan. If you feel unsure about any of it, change it so you both agree. Call the police or RCMP. They are there to help you. I thought I would be grilled with accusations, but instead they asked me if I was ok, if they could help more, and gave me numbers of people to call if I needed to talk.

The events of that day were caused by a few simple decisions gone bad. Had I argued my point on the safety plan it might not have happened. What started as a simple effort to clear away anxiety could have ended up……..well, I’m not going to go there.  The water didn’t win that day.   She’s safe. We’re all safe . New safety plan. That time we went big. Hopefully soon it will be home.

Get help. Don’t be afraid. Reach out.

Summer 2013.  As I remember it, things seemed pretty normal, or at least as normal as they can be in a house with 3 kids, 2 birds, 2 bunnies, and one parent trying to watch over it all.  My daughter decided she wanted to try being a vegetarian for a month – just to see if she could do it.  I was game – why not?  Meatless Monday seemed easy, just figure out a different protein source.  The month went by quickly, and she was very proud of herself for completing it,  but little did I know that this was the start of a slippery downward slope.

How do you know if your child has an eating disorder?  How do you even know what an eating disorder is?  That’s when you eat and then throw up right?  Well, I’ve learned that’s not necessarily so.  There are 3 different types of eating disorders: anorexia, bulimia, and eating disorder otherwise defined.  You can also add on to it a binge/purge cycle, that can or cannot be a regular occurrence.  If your child won’t eat their lunch, do they have an eating disorder?Maybe – and maybe not.  Here is what I know – and what I’ve learned.

Puberty is a crucial time.  Hormones start going wild, bodies start changing, and the whole thing just gets messy and confusing.  When your child starts cutting the food they eat in half, they start depriving themselves of super important nutrients necessary to keep their brains working and body growing properly. Of course, it never helps when media is pummeling our children every day with images of what is good looking, and what isn’t.  I never even heard the phrase “thigh gap” until the head of a popular clothing company said girls who don’t have one shouldn’t wear his stuff.  How many of our daughters do you think googled those words to see what it meant?

Once they get used to eating half their meals, the amounts start getting lower.  Sure, the family goes out for something great and they eat in front of you, but the rest of the day they compensate for extra calories they may eat.  Then a friend says something simple, like, “I wouldn’t tell you this, but I’m your friend, so, you’re not nearly as athletic, or pretty or skinny, or built as me.  People might think you’re fat.”  I never knew it, but when I heard my daughter talking to the therapist about how her “friend at school” told her this every single day since grade 4, it was all I could do but burst in to tears.  3 years of hearing it every day – no wonder………….

Anyways, so your child has an eating disorder – so does mine.  Here is what you should do, and what happens next.  Check for signs around the house.  Do you have a scale?  if so, where is it and why are your kids using it?  Who packs your child’s lunch?  Are they really taking one to school?  Where do you eat your meals.  If you’re allowing them to eat in their rooms, how do you know they’re really eating ?  Have you noticed a sudden change in the clothes your child is wearing, like a sudden switch from leggings and tight tshirts to sweats and baggy hododies.  Is your child pooping every day – this is important to ask.  Yes, it’s kind of gross, but it’s a pretty important body function.  Chronic constipation is a clear sign.  Bowels don’t work properly without enough water or food.  When I started noticing all of these things, it was already too late.  Damage had been done.

When food is deprived, the body can only take it for so long.  Depression starts to set in, anxiety happens, and the vicious cycle begins.  As malnutrition starts to happen, bruising starts to appear.  I didn’t know that multiple bruises are a sign of malnutrition!

Take your child to the Dr.  Call right away and get them in as soon as possible.  Insist on staying in the room until you can voice your concerns.  It’s very important for your child to see you there, and for you to say your fear in front of them.  It’s real – very real, and they need to know.  Once you discuss with your Dr., they will hopefully put a referral in to the eating disorder clinic.  The waiting list is horrible – about 6 months, but get it started right away.  Make a plan to visit your Dr. weekly to monitor things while you wait.  You need to know that an eating order is not about food, it’s about control, and pain, and depression, and low self image………..It’s very complicated and very complex.

Once you get in to the top of the waiting list, you will get invited to an information session at the Richmond centre where they’ll go through an hour long presentation.  Very dry, but also informative – and yes, parents and patients should attend.  At any point in the process, if you don’t attend an appointment you will not be considered for the program.  Don’t miss. By this time, your child has been through a ton of blood tests and questionnaires, so information is sent out and Dr’s are notified of results.   Next, based on the severity of your referral, you get set up with 4 different appointments:  Meeting with a Dr. at the eating disorder clinic at ACH – you will have to wait in the waiting room while they talk with your child for about 90 minutes – I’ve learned to crochet.  The nurse will ask you to sign forms, talk a little bit, and then you play the waiting game.  At the end of the appointment you will meet with the Dr. and your child and get a summary.  Next, on a different date, you get a 90 minute appointment with a nutritional dietician that will ask your child a ton of questions about how they got where they are now.  I will warn you – wear your big girl panties for this appointment.  You will need to bite your tongue harder than you ever have in your life.  Your child didn’t end up 25 lbs underweight by accident.  You will learn how calculating and planned they can actually be.  At one point, I thought I was going to explode.  I was so angry – not sure if I’ve ever been that angry before.  Once that is done,  you will meet with a Psychiatrist that specializes in eating disorders.  You don’t get to be in this appointment either – more crocheting.  At the end, you’re invited in to say a few things, voice concerns, and then it’s done.  You get another follow up with the Dr. where you sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes, and then last you meet with a family counselor back at the Richmond Center.  Both parents are supposed to be at this appointment, and their are a lot of hard questions, so put your feelings aside and just be straight with the situation.

Once all of the appointments are done, you are given a follow up date where medical and treatment decisions have to be made.  That was a very long week.  I ended up at that meeting alone.  The X didn’t show – didn’t want to take time off work, so I went and heard the prognosis by myself – that was very hard.  Bringing outside support really isn’t an option, so I’d suggest if you’re in that lone boat, to have some support set up directly after – it’s pretty emotional.

Here’s a terrifying stat.  Out of the children that die from eating disorders, 50% of them commit suicide.  It was explained to me like this.  Imagine a tree – we’ll call that tree depression.  Each branch is an issue – so just pick one and assign a name.  If the eating disorder, in this case anorexia with binge/purge cycle is a branch, and we treat that branch, we are still left with a whole untreated tree.  I was given a choice – treat the branch, but risk loosing the tree – OR – treat the tree, and learn to cope with a sickly branch.  A recommendation was made by them, and I chose to deal with the tree.  The good thing is that once you’ve made it this far, you have 6 months to reconsider and treat the branch without going through the whole process again.  After that – you start from scratch.

Eating disorders aren’t about food.  They cause anxiety, depression, malnutrition, low self body image, physical pain, and are very hard to understand.  All of these things fit under the mental health umbrella.  Do some research.  Watch your kids or your friends.  Get help.

For those who know me, I’m sure you’d agree that I’m a hard worker. I like to stay positive, I’m always looking for the next great idea or a way to make a quick buck to pay for whatever Thing 1, 2 or 3 throw my way. I’m addicted to diet coke even though I know it’s horrible for me. Mexican food is my favorite. I’m always up for a party (unless it’s for me sometimes, weird, I know), I’m a tad competitive and like to win “the creams and the lotions and the goodies and stuff”! I love helping people and will always do what I can, no matter how tired I am. I’m not normally a crier – emotion isn’t really my strong suit. I’m sure my tomb stone quote will be, “How hard can it be?”

I’m a single mom. I get no support from a dad that does not participate in Thing 1 or 2 ’ s life – they have withdrawn from him completely (for their own mental health) long ago, and Thing 3 hangs by a thread. I have very serious reasons for not pushing harder for support right now, but that’s food for another discussion.

All that said, life costs money. I know there are a ton of single parents out there in the same boat foe one reason or another, and support or not, life is expensive. I want to share with you the costs of having a child in health care. We are so incredibly fortunate to have paid health care, but there are plenty of other expenses that have made being a proud mama very tough, especially when asking for help can sometimes deepen your own personal pain.

It took me awhile to learn the system, so hopefully my learning can help you…

Parking – $13.75/day
$39.75/week
$80/month

First get your day ticket. Keep it with you, then take it to the machine and upgrade to a week. Prior to the end of the week, (if your stay is longer), you can go to the head of your health unit, and ask for a stay form to be signed, that will authorize a longer parking pass. Take the signed form and your parking ticket prior to 4PM to the nasty lady behind the glass, pay another $40 and they will issue you a month long pass. It’s critical not to lose that ticket. They won’t reissue and you will have to pay more. One month I ended up paying $120 because I wasn’t there before 4. I thought they would add the two tickets together and count that equal to paying for 1 month but they said no. (They’re closed weekends too which doesn’t help). My warm fuzzies don’t really extend to the parking folks – they mean business and they have no sympathy. Also, quit driving in circles on the first level for parking. The lower level (L1) has better parking anyways. Keep your ticket and renew before you have to feed it back in the machine. That will be your only proof of payment . I ended up having to apply for some financial assistance and I needed those stubs to prove how much the parking costs .

Fuel

I’m sorry to all those oil folks, but it’s a 47 km drive each way from my house to the hospital. For the first month I was there every waking hour outside of work . My gas bill tripled each week putting me at $150/week instead of $50. I’m so thankfull gas prices have gone down. My income is budgeted to the penny and with parking and fuel costs, I now have about $300-400 extra with those costs alone, and no time to work a 2nd job anymore……

Food

A small cup of tea at the hospital is about $3, and a mediocre piece of pizza is $3.75 . Yes, bringing food with me all day would be smart but is just sometimes impractical, especially when the phone rings and plans suddenly change. You need to plan for someone to bring you something, or have change for a bite while you’re there. Even if you have to stay the night, they will provide your child food, but not you. Our fist night at the hospital.left me food less for about 32 hours. Not purposely – I was in so much shock I forgot to eat – and when I stood up I almost passed out. My fiance brought a care bag with some things to get us by till admission happened.

Prescriptions

You’d think that because your child is in the hospital, there would be no issue with health care, but not so . Whatever the reason they are there for is how they are seen. I decided to go give my daughter a little girl love and brought some things to give her a pedicure. While doing her feet, I noticed she had a badly infected toe, and 2 other badly swollen toes. I brought it to the nurses attention, and had to make a bit of a fuss for it to be taken care of. They cleaned it up and left it at that. I had to be a strong advocate to have a different Dr from another unit come and look at her foot . The point ? All the normal day to day stuff still happens, and you need to be a strong advocate to get it looked after. The units have tunnel vision sometimes – you’re responsible to keep remembering the big picture (advocated the small stuff too). If you need something not ordered through the unit, or ordered from another unit, you have to pay for it. The pharmacy at the hospital is only open till 5 so use one you’re familiar with. They will need to put the regular prescription in to the daily orders, so make sure that gets done too and follow up on it. If they decide to change meds, they will require both parents consent, so now is a good time to try and be on relatively good terms with your X , or at least be able to text. You’ll have to unblock their number from your phone or at least change the bad identifier name to something appropriate for others to see (I’m not bitter, really, lol). You’re probably going to have to convince them to say yes to a change their mind on whatever conspiracy theories are keeping them from agreeing. It’s a pain in the butt but also protects everyone.

Home Life

What is that? Ok, truthfully, I’m told the average stay in the mental health ward is 2-3 weeks, so your displacement will hopefully not be as long as mine. We’re in to month 5, with probably another month to go, and repeat admissions expected. That said, you’ll wonder what you used to do before . I’m very grateful to have a job that is so understanding, and boys that are so understanding too. My parents made us a few meals at first. I think that’s all my boys all the for the first week. Let’s just say they won’t be hungry for lasagna for awhile. I’ve never been one to ask for help, and I’m really lousy at it, but they will tell you to ask your friends for help. See if someone can deliver a few meals to your house so you don’t have to worry about your kids eating cereal for supper every night and so you have something to eat when you get home. Trust me. People feel helpless and so will you. They truly can’t possibly understand unless they’ve been there. If you’re reading this and you know someone with a child or family member in hospital, don’t when question it. Deliver a meal – leave it on the door step if you have to. Help pay for a parking pass (a friend of mine did this one month and I cried). Give them a little carry case with a cloth, some chapped lip stuff, toothpaste, gum – that sort of stuff). Sometimes the hours are long, and they pump air all the time that keeps you cold and dry.

Passes

Once they feel your child is “safe” and can use their new safety plans, you will have, I mean get to take your child on a pass. This starts as 30.minutws, then 1 hour, 2-4, 6-8, and then eventually overnight. Success rates change the formula. Passes cost money so be prepared. Going to the mall is going to cost you at least food, and probably a tshirt or sweater or something. The cafeteria will cost you carrot cake ($3.75 for that small piece?!) and a beverage- but don’t buy anything with caffeine – it’s not allowed.

I’m pretty sure that covers the most unavoidable expenses. Why am I telling you this? I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m a proactiv person. Acting is a much better feeling then reacting. Hopefully you knowing a little bit more about what to ask for and what to expect will help.

Stay strong – you’re not alone. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for help.

“Hello?”
“Hi, Ms. Johnsen?”
“Yes”
“We need permission to do a blood test”
“Um mm, ok…….what happened?”
“A patient smuggled in a sharp after a pass. 5 of the kids shared and self harmed. We will be testing your daughter for HIV, Hep, and will be retesting in 70 days for Hep”
“(Silence)………..OMG……..”

1 in 10 kids is self harming. That means at least 3 kids in your kids class, and I’d bet it’s more than that, are hurting themselves as a way of controlling the pain on the inside. It’s more common in teens, women, gay and bisexuals. Self harm is really easy to react to because we can see it. It’s alarming because it’s hard to understand. People self harm as a way of control, of feeling something – or something different.

Cutting seems to be an epidemic nowadays. I know of at least 3 kids in my daughters class that are doing it, which means there are more. Cutting is a superficial wound, not usually deep, but also very addictive. They tend to cut in places not easily seen – thighs, upper arms, underside of their breasts, hips, abdomen – places where a Dr might not even look. The wound will break the skin, and is at risk of getting infected. I’ve seen the self afflicted cuts, and even eraser burns. They’re nasty and very easy to react negatively too.

If you are looking for signs, inconspicuously look for fine silvery or white lines on their skin, unexplainable patterns of horizontal grouped cuts, and even in some cases deep obvious scratches. When you hug your child make note of their body language. Most importantly, if you do discover something don’t get mad – and this is really a hard one. I have reacted poorly to this one at first. Mental health issues are hard to understand and not often visible, so we don’t react, or we pin a label of “weird” or “nutso” and carry on. When you see a loved one with visible wounds you want to understand and help immediately, but really don’t know how. It’s easy to freak out, after all, you’re having to be all full of self control and understanding all the time when really you want to jump up and down and scream and shout.

Firstly, try not to be alarmed. If there’s a wound to be cleaned, do so as if you’re cleaning a scraped knee. Stay neutral with your emotions. I have bitten my tongue so hard sometimes that I’m surprised it hasn’t just fallen off. My daughter challenged me and said she wouldn’t talk about it till I did some research. There are a boat load of websites devoted to the topic – I encourage you to read them and be aware. Ignorance is bliss – I really understand the true meaning of the saying now.

Research I did, and it has helped me to keep a more emotional distance, but honestly the inner gasp is still there when I see it and my heart breaks for the inner pain causing it. Will she talk to me about it now? Not really, but at least she doesn’t get mad and will talk a little if I don’t push. I do know that it is just another way of expressing what’s happening on the inside, and that’s the issue to be more concerned with.

“Hello?”
“Ms Johnsen? We have the blood test results”
“(Silence)”
“Are you there? “
“Sorry, yes”
“All tests were negative. She’ll have to be tested again in 70 days”
“(Tears flowing) …….Thank you”.

Just a side note – be diligent and keep track of dates. They forgot to do the retest and didn’t do it till I called twice. Thank goodness for the family counselors at ACH. They’re great advocates when things fall through the cracks.

2nd test results? Negative. Whewf. Thank God

September 23rd. I received a text from the mother of a friend of my daughters. She said to me “I hope you’re not mad, but maybe you should check your daughters phone – she sent a text you might want to see”.

I had found out a few weeks back when Robin Williams died that my daughter had been feeling sad. Sad. Sad. What exactly does that mean? Down? Frustrated? Depressed? Or just sad? I started watching her a little closer. I noticed as we went we shopping for school clothes that she had gone down 2 sizes. She had been struggling with stomach pain for about a year – but 2 sizes? 5’9”, and a size 2, or zero? Should I be alarmed? I also noticed the scale appearing pulled out more often. Food in the garbage. Should I be alarmed yet? We went to the pediatrician and had her checked out. Indeed she had lost about 20 lbs, and decided maybe time for some help. A referral was put in to the eating disorder clinic but the waiting list was 6 months, so I took things in to my own hands and tried to engage her – help her re feed her body. Things felt good. I thought we were on the right track.

On Sept 23rd our lives changed forever. The text that she sent said I’m so fat I want to die. I looked at her beautiful face and said I wanted to help but she withdrew and gave me a look I have never seen before. The horror in her eyes shocked me, right to my core. It was time for school and I had to leave for work, so we decided to talk later in the day.

Shortly after 9 am I received a phone call from an X family member. A text had been sent to her cousin. “This is my last day. I don’t know how I’m going to do this”. I dropped rhe phone and my first ought was “where is she?!” I frantically called the school and had her paged. God, please just let her be there. She had been found in the school bathroom weeping by 2 girls, who took her to the office. I ran to.my car and drove as if life depended on it, and it did.

When I arrived at the school I was ushered in to the principals office. What do I do? What’s going on? All I could think was call her Dr. Surprisingly I got through immediately and they said take her to the hospital. I couldn’t imagine why I would take her there. What would the hospital do? I went in to the room to see my girlie. She was frantically weeping, wrapped like a tangled weed around these two girls that were holding her so tight. They didn’t even know each other. I sat down with her while the others left the room, and wrapped my arms around her, trying to make sense of what was going on. She looked up at me, and while she wept took her fingers and gently placed them on the corners of my eyes, trying to stop my tears and said “please don’t cry mom”. I knew I  was to shaken to take her myself, so the school called an ambulance. Did you know officers come too? She was so scared, and I promised her I’d be at her side, but they put her in the ambulance and left without me. I felt like I had betrayed her – so helpless and no control over anything. I didn’t know that you can’t ride with your child in an ambulance. That made no sense to me at all.

I packed up my things, called my boys and other family and headed to the hospital. Reeling with a thousand different emotions, I headed in my little yellow bug to the Alberta Children’s Hospital. I had no idea what lay ahead, what they could do, and how this got so big so quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked her about the text”, I thought.

The point here is that I never knew there were support services available for mental health. I knew about kids hotline and stuff, but who realky uses that anyways?  I’d seen the app on my daughters phone but it wasn’t used. Mental.health is never talked about. I didn’t know that when your child is angry, feeling very sad or depressed, has eating problems, or generally feels unsafe that you take them to the children’s hospital. They have a huge team there that assesses safety risks and helps your child learn coping tools and strategies. I had no idea. This is free and is there for people who don’t know what to do. You have to sit in emergency like any other patient. You have to wait for assessments. You will be asked to leave the room if your child is 12 or older and they will he asked probing questions about life at home etc – that’s probably the hardest thing at first. Standing out in the hall, wondering if your 9 Pm dinner when it should have been 5, or running out of toilet paper is going to be seen as bad parenting. A million scenarios run through your head going through discussions with your child, analyzing if it could have been taken wrong. Feeling guilty is a huge part. There are 3 different facilities for kids in our city. One for young children and teens at the Children’s Hospital, and two for teens at the Foothills and at South Campus.

If you have any question at all, don’t just leave it. Don’t second guess yourself. Believe that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach – that’s nature saying something just isn’t right. Take your child to the hospital and get help. Mental health is so hard because it comes in so many different ways. Don’t be ashamed or scared. Get help.