So, I've talked about the recent struggles that T has been having in school lately and you guys have been very outspoken and supportive. Thank you.
He was suspended from school yesterday for the same behavior from the last time I blogged about him (he did it on Monday and Tuesday, which is why he was suspended on Wednesday) and, at the suggestion of my sister, I went ahead and and took him to the doctor yesterday while he was "out".
To be fair, he also has had a cough for a few days too.
So, we went to the doctor (a new pediatrician too, but I did make sure I picked the woman since he's more comfy with women than men.). I promised no shots so he was more than willing to go.
He instantly loved the nurse (There is something my son LOVES about black women and blonds. What/ It's true!!) Anyway, the doctor came in and he loved her too. (Perhaps it was the blond highlights, idk.)
She checked his breathing, among other things, and gave me a proscription for his sinus, beginning bronchitis cough....
then I had her check out his face where my sister's fucking dog bit him...ON THE FACE! (Kim, I'm sorry but that dog is going to die when I see him next. Just saying. I'd kennel him for Christmas if you want him to live.) Anyway, I wanted to see what I could put on the developing scar to minimize it. Seriously, I'm very excited about the keloid that is developing. Really. Thank you genetics that get nothing, am I mean absolutely nothing (not a tan, not the beautiful think, black hair) from my Indian blood except the whole keloid scar thing...and then my son gets it too-on his face. Fucking Really??!! Thanks....that rocks....sigh
Anywhooo. I ended the visit with this jem of communication brilliance, "I know he's only four, but, I mean, he's really having trouble in school and at home."
She listened as I went into greater detail about some of the "issues" that we've been dealing with, but was not surprised because she had watched this child literally bounce around the room since she walked in. She asked the question I was waiting for..."Is there anyone else in the family that has these issues." Is there?! "Um, me, my dad, his father, my sister's four kids, my sister, my aunts, a majority of my cousins...and almost all of them/us are medicated in some way for it."
So, she gave me an evaluation to fill out and one for his teacher to fill out.
There were so many things floating through my head as I read it.
- Almost all of these thing sound like him
- Almost all of these things sound like me
- How sad and overwhelmed my baby must feel a majority of the time
- How much I loath the idea of medicating my baby boy, but desperately want him to have an easier time in school than I had.
While I was never a hyper active kid, I was and still am a fidgeter. Something on my body is always in motion-usually it is my leg or foot. (My kids were never really rocked to sleep as babies; they were lulled to sleep by my leg shake-think metronome.)
I would also miss chucks of information because my mind would drift away either in a daydream or get distracted watching out the window. Now, I certainly never admitted to that because I thought my Pop would kill me for goofing off in class and it was never noticed because I was a good kid that never was any trouble and my grades were good. (I always doubled my efforts and learned the information I missed myself so I could keep my grades up.)
My real problems were manifested in anxiety.
I also didn't know that I had a problem with anxiety until I was pregnant with Caitlin. I really always thought that everyone would get severe stomach aches (and occasionally either gag or throw up) anytime they had a test, exam, speech, project, or was called on in class to answer a question. Normal people would get overwhelmed with the thought of every single worst case scenario anytime they left the house right? Maybe the entire body physically shaking and and overwhelming "bad feeling" about things might have been a bit odd, but my whole family tends to be "high strung" so it's a family thing, but everything else is pretty standard.
Well, it turns out that no, no it's really not normal.
Go figure.
And each time T would display "Jamie" tendencies I would just say, "Poor thing, he's so much like me."
Now, after I finally was told-no, I did not come to this realization myself, I had to be TOLD- I began looking at my child differently. It
made makes me sad that he has this same shadow over his head that dims every situation and makes it almost impossible to fully enjoy life.
This is why when asked if I'd ever consider coming off of lexapro I say, "Are you fucking kidding? Hell no!"
Since being medicated myself I love my life. I can taste the highs and lows, savouring each flavor without it spoiling everything else. Now I may be given the opportunity to give T that same gift, the gift of calm. The gift of feeling sane and normal all the time. The gift of not choking on constant fear of people, situations, success, failure, and everything in between.
Is it worth it? Until he's old enough to make the choice for himself...yeah, I think it just might be worth it.
