Wednesday, June 12, 2013

The Rest of the Story

That nap turned out to be pneumonia, by the way.  When I took her temperature Saturday, the numbers whizzed by on the thermometer rather the way the cost rings up when you're getting gas in the car.  This definitely helped build up my credibility with the "you need to take a nap" thing.

I  made it to my doctor's appointment too.  And cried.  In the waiting room, while filling out the screening form.  I think the receptionist might have made a discreet note on it:  "Please give this woman meds."  Then I cried some more while telling my sweet little doctor that I get so angry at my kids that I'm afraid I'm going to hurt them.  She said nice things, and gave me some sensible advice, prescribed Zoloft (which I had just learned can help with anger as well as depression) and wondered in her mild way if Oak might also benefit from something to take the edge off his anxiety, which is at the base of a lot of his more enraging behaviors.  She even used the phrase PTSD, which somehow impressed me.

I keep reading or hearing that kids from tough places will be misdiagnosed as ADHD or oppositional, because their behaviors will be similar, but that meds for those diagnoses will be wrong, because the cause is so different.  At our first school conference, I said something to Oaks' teachers about this, and they all (classroom teacher, ELD teacher and counselor) looked at me funny and said, "No, I wouldn't have said he has any attention issues at all.  He's quite able to focus.  It's more the way he behaves when he's stressed out or there are transitions..."  Now the doctor seems equally well in tune with the way our kids' background will affect them.  I like this.

The school where I work is undergoing a "digital conversion" which is fancy talk for getting one iPad for each student.  As part of this, teachers got an iPad mini and a Macbook Air to take home and familiarize ourselves with over the summer.  Don't be hating on me.  I'll be equipped for blogging, at any rate.  Don't let the door hit you on the way out, decrepit old off-brand laptop.


  1. This is GOOD NEWS. (Well, um, not the pneumonia part, obviously). I'm really glad to hear your doctor's appointment went well. Big step. Brave stuff.

  2. Thank you, Claudia!

    I keep re-writing the rest of this because I can't get it to not come out cheesy. I am being uncomfortably honest about my struggles precisely because reading blogs like yours has been such a source of encouragement to me. So, really, really, really--thank you.