I swear to you that there was a moment last week, sitting on the pediatric psychiatrist's couch, when I literally had an image flash into my mind, and here's what it was: Remember those old Looney Toons, where someone is starving, and someone else is talking, blabbing away, blah blah blah, and to the starving character the blabber suddenly turns into a walking lamb chop? That's what I felt like. I had this flash, from the perspective of the doctor, me sitting there, blah blah blah, and suddenly I was a giant ice cream cone labeled "Case Study". I started giggling right then. Of course, I'd been crying about 2 minutes before that. Oh yeah. Triple scoop.
So okay! Let's get all these therapists labeled for future blogging bonanzas of fun. We'll call the Boy's psychologist Dr. Tall, cause wow, she's tall. And stunning. Wow. He's gonna look back on therapy and ask himself, Why didn't I keep up with that until I was at least 16? Then we've got the psychiatrist, and I really like him, but he actually brought up the Oedipal Complex, which caused me to snort in derision. (Aside from the Ex: "Hey, better to be blind in Heaven." We scare our therapists.) So let's call him Dr. Rex. And then there's my therapist. Yes! It's the Third Annual SBFH Return To Therapy Event. We'll call her Dr. Zen, because she once mentioned that she'd just gotten back from a Buddhist psychotherapy retreat, which was when I knew she was the mental-health professional for me. We'll call the Ex's doctors Drs. Ex cause I'm running out of brain cells to keep track of all these friggin' doctors.
And I went in for a neuromuscular massage tonight, and damn! That hurts. In a good way. I hope.
I had a sudden wish this morning that I could grow dreadlocks. But I can't.
Shh. The words "early-onset bipolar" have been bantered. Dr. Tall prefers "possible mood disorder". Drs. Ex are trying to determine whether the Ex is truly bipolar and if so, how effective can talk therapy be? What's the lowest level of meds he can take to positive effect? Lithium did zilch for him. Dr. Rex wants to hold off on all meds until we have a chance to see how Little Oed does with the behavioral and cognitive therapy. I had a nice Crow Pie over the Boy's teacher, remember the one that drove me crazy (ha ha)? I decided I needed to adjust my attitude about her, and lo! she turns out to be quite caring and helpful. We've got a 504 plan in place for him for next year. We're looking into group therapy for social skills. He's started Tae Kwan Do and I've never heard so much yes-maaming. The Girl is peeing on the potty (only after we realized that she was doing it at school because they give her M&Ms. As soon as we mentioned that TREATS might be involved, we can't get her OFF the potty). I finally realized that spending every waking moment on the verge of tears is probably not a Good Thing, so I'm making my annual pilgrimage to Dr. Zen. Poor Dr. Zen; she can't get rid of me to save her soul. I am Perpetual.