Monday came, our family doctor would not be in until the afternoon. He is a man casually approaching retirement. I talked to him in the afternoon. He refused to write a script for the meds. I was surprised because when we had first talked at the beginning of October he agreed that I needed to Jason on anti-psychotic drugs to stop the hallucinations. I did see his point. These are serious drugs with serious side effects. They should be monitored by a psychiatrist. The problem was finding one who was not too overloaded to book new patients in a timely manner. We had another appointment with the psychologist the next day.
She gave me a list of family doctors who she thought might prescribe him the meds. Jason told her of his plan to go into rehab. She was happy with the plan and volunteered to make some calls to help him get in.
The next morning I decided to try again to get him in to see our local psychiatrist. One of the reasons I had not been too pushy before on this is that she has a reputation as a pill pusher. I knew Jason needed more than just medication. We were getting desperate. I was willing to try anything. Instead of calling the office and trying to make an appointment again. I went to the hospital, where I knew she was working, and stood in the hallway talking to the nurses. I cried and explained my fears for my son. They went into the psych unit and came out with the verdict. She would see my son the next morning.
I had to work, but he assured me he could handle this on his own. He stopped by the office on his way out of town to drop off the scripts for me to fill. He was cheerful and smiling. His boyish charm and great smile charmed my co-workers. He said it had worked on the doctor too. She, an older woman, had told him how handsome he was. She had told him he could do anything he wanted in this life. Later, after I was home, he told me he was going to be a millionaire and buy me new house. When he was happy like this you could not help but absolutely love him. Not just me, I'm his mother, but everybody he met adored him.
I started calling around to rehab clinics again. I made an appointment for a drug and alcohol screening, which most of them required to let him in. The appointment was in Wichita, a four hour drive. The problem was that none of these clinics are in our half of the state. There was one facility that told him he could come tonight. He started packing. I was transferred to the detox unit he was entering through. I mentioned that I did not think his detox would be too hard on them, since he had been clean for over a week. I was then informed he had to have a dirty u.a. to enter through detox, and there were no other openings except for in detox. He suggested we start the drive over, stop by some friends in Liberal, and he could have a dirty u.a. by the time we arrived. While it was the logical solution I could not do it.
Finally I found that he could do a video screening in Liberal that would work for all of the clinics. With so many of our plans falling through I had learned that once I had a appointment I kept it until I was absolutely sure we would not be needing it. Our screening was for Wednesday. The day before Thanksgiving. I had scheduled to have that day off over a month before so I could spend it at home with the kids.
At the screening I sat back, but still on camera while Jason talked. He did not paint a really clear picture of his drug use. Not because he was trying to hide anything, but he was just answering the direct questions they asked. Being young and unsure of the process he did not realize he was interviewing. The lady doing the interview told him he did not do enough drugs to qualify for rehab. Without missing a beat he smiled and told her he could come back next week.
I asked if I could talk. I filled her in on his recent overdose, and explained that was the reason he is clean. If he were in better health physically he would be having a much harder time staying away from the drugs. She called around the state to find a bed for him. The soonest she could get him in was January 21st. She booked him for that time, but told him to call on a weekly basis and they may get him in sooner if somebody else left early or canceled. I asked her about my other options. She suggested I call a private facility such as Valley Hope.
I called. They could get him in that day. She gave me a list of what he should pack. While I was doing his laundry and trying to make sure he had everything we needed he was rushing me to just take him right away. I laughed at his enthusiasm, but told him to calm down so we could do this right. Moundridge is roughly a five hour drive, so we needed to think ahead. The closer we got to our destination the more nervous he became. He explained that he thought getting away from home might make his mind better, but it was getting worse. Stress, lack of sleep, new situations were all things that made him worse. This was going to be rough at first.
While checking him in it was explained to me that since he was only 19 he would be treated as a minor and unable to leave the grounds. I was happy to hear this. He would be given his two medications, both an anti-psychotic and an anti-depressant by the staff. Everybody was nice. The residents looked cheerful. I felt good about the place, but nervous about leaving my son somewhere so far away. I tried to be cheerful as I hugged him goodbye.