Monday, July 9, 2012
Ground? Meet Face.
There is a great line from the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
Professor Jones speaks it after Walter Donovan is relating to him their results of the Grail mission, and reveals that they were very close to success. That their project leader was 'one step away' from completing the quest.
Indy replies as an aside (or an interruption rather) with a statement that is a foreshadowing of events that will unfold as he nears the end of his own journey towards the Cup of Christ as he walks along the footsteps of The Word of God at the end of the film and the ground literally gives way beneath him.
But it is also a statement that applies, and is often used by many people (OK, geeks), to describe that uneasy feeling you get when things should feel more settled but don't, when you should be at ease and aren't.
Because especially in this world of being a Special Needs parent, just when you think things seem to be leveling off for a while, and you think that you are getting close to a place where you can walk with a feeling of security, 'That's usually when the ground falls out from underneath your feet.'
Bennett's behavior and his focus have been issues we have been dealing with for a long time. We've tried a lot of things, unsuccessfully. The funny thing is that lately? Some of the techniques that many of you have sent me privately and publicly I have been using and they have BEEN MAKING A DIFFERENCE.
But then we had to go and fuck it up.
My psychiatrist had recommended we try Vyvanse for Bennett. Initially, we'd resisted. We'd gone down the road of ADHD medications before. He always reacted badly. But we have to always measure the past against hope for a better future for Bennett.
This decision to pull the trigger on Vyvanse wasn't easy for us. Took us a month to decide. We ultimately did, and gave him a single dose on Saturday morning.
The next 24 hours were Hell on Earth for that boy.
I have never in my life been more concerned for his safety. It was a nightmare. He would try launching himself, head first, off of furniture, with no concern for consequence. He threw everything. He pulled over objects regardless of their weight or where they might land.
It was awful. Carter was scared shitless and we got him out of there and he went to his grandparents.
And Bennett? He just had to ride it out. He bit me, Jen, himself. We had to restrain him a lot from causing himself or us harm. It was something I never want to see him go through again. Ever.
Jen and I both decided. We're done with trying meds with him. We're just done. We are not giving up on trying to help Bennett, don't get me wrong. We are just not giving him any more drugs.
I shot some video during this. Jen asked me not to show it. I'm respecting her wishes. It is not a flattering portrait of our son. My intent was educational, I wasn't trying to be an asshole even by shooting some of it. So you won't see it, or the photos. I was conflicted about blogging about the experience. Jen at first did not think I should, but I convinced her that it was important that I do so.
I wanted to talk about this just as a precautionary, I felt it was important in discussing the evolution of the whole process of Bennett's journey.
Ignoring it, or brushing it under the rug, would not do Bennett justice and certainly I want any other parents out there who read this blog who might be considering medications to know all the ones we've tried and failed and what happened when we tried them.
I'm glad this weekend is over. Really glad. Now we'll be moving on to other things. And having Bennett back to 'normal' on Sunday was something that was wonderful...warts and all.