If you are one of the regular readers of this blog, you are probably thinking "ANOTHER post? I am not up to ANOTHER post!" Please feel free to take a reading break! I will not be hurt! I just feel so compelled to get down the details of this story before they leave my head.
So---what is boarding? In this case, boarding means keeping psychiatric patients at a regular hospital, either in the ER or on a regular medical ward, until they are able to be admitted to a psychiatric hospital or sent home. There are far too few psychiatric beds in this country, most especially for children. So children wind up boarding at hospitals. I was often given two weeks as a common amount of time to be boarding. There is an article here especially about this crisis in Massachusetts, but it exists all over the country.
I think I'd vaguely heard of boarding before last week, but didn't really get it. I knew it wasn't considered a good idea to bring autistic kids especially to the ER for anything but the more dire times, because there was little that could be done for them there, but I didn't get that the problem went beyond that.
In an ideal world, and in I think the minds of many people, things would work like this---You have a child that is somehow showing signs of a severe mental health crisis. You, or your school, have no idea how to handle them. They are becoming unsafe to themselves or to others. In the crisis, you take them to the ER. The ER assesses them, and somehow is able to help them, within the time frames you'd expect for other medical crises---a few hours to a few days. It's not fun, but it's in line with something like appendicitis or a bad case of the flu.
I'll use Janey's case to illustrate the reality. She had been having a tough week. Things escalated Friday at school. The school rightly called an ambulance. Janey was taken to the ER about 1:30 pm. Her vitals were checked, we told our basic story. We finally saw a psychiatrist about 5 pm. The psychiatrist determined that Janey needed to get more help. She said she would check if there were a space in the few mental health wards that could handle Janey's complex needs, but if not, we would sleep over in the ER.
I've written about the time in the ER. There were no spaces available. So, after a 24 hour hold, Janey was admitted to Children's Hospital. She got a single room on what was actually a transplant floor, mostly for babies needing kidney transplants. The nurses there were not psychiatric nurses. The room was not set up for a psychiatric patient. They removed a lot of things from the room before we went in, like the rolling vital signs computer and the phone, to make it a little safer. And we settled in, to wait for the moment there became a place available at one of the two hospitals in our part of the country that could take Janey. The hospital checked three times a day for a spot. On Thursday, around 8 pm, we finally left by ambulance, after 6 days.
Those are the bare facts. The reality was, well, hell. Janey was not allowed to leave her room. I understand the reason for that. She wasn't stable, and she could hurt other patients. But for a child in mental health crisis, being confined to a small room is not easy, to say the extreme least. Hospital procedure, and from what I am told procedure at most hospitals, is that a mental health boarder must have someone from the hospital or contracted to the hospital in their room at all times. These people are called "sitters" In theory, that is a good idea. It's a second set of hands, someone else to keep an eye on the child. In practice, well, it makes things a lot tougher, actually. The sitters varied. Most were well-meaning, but mostly they did what the name says---they sat. They sat in a chair and did nothing. They didn't play with Janey or help in any way. We were not supposed to leave Janey alone with them, so we still needed to be in the room with her. They were supposed to let us be able to sleep, but in reality, when Janey woke, it woke me up. They became one more person in the room to protect from being hurt. We were unable to talk to each other with any candor. I felt I had to make conversation at least a little with the sitters to not be totally rude. They were an added source of stress for certain, although I know they didn't mean to be.
When Janey's behavior escalated in the hospital, we tried to handle it ourselves. If she got more upset, which probably happened about 10 times while there, we called the nurse. That was the procedure. The nurse could do little to help. She would call the psychiatrist on call, or what was called the behavioral team. The only real response they had was to give Janey more medication. There wasn't much else that could be done in the confines of a hospital room. A few days, Janey wound up overmedicated and groggy.
Aside from having a great deal more psychiatric beds available, what would help patients and families who are boarding? I have a few ideas. The biggest one---have SOME spot in the hospital where the child can run around, can be out of their room. Even if this is only once a day, and has to be scheduled so the child is alone and there is staff there, it would be a HUGE help. With sitters, either train them better or make them optional. Have them be helpers. Have some understanding of the stress it puts on a family to have some stranger in their room all the time. Give the parents an hour of respite now and then. I was lucky to have my friend Maryellen help me several days with Janey. Janey's current and a past teacher, which felt like heaven---help and support. Another dear friend braved horrible traffic to bring us some of Janey's favorite foods---a sour pickle, bread and cheese! In one of life's strange coincidences, a friend who is part of the staff at Janey's old school actually had a relative in the same ward as us. Seeing her friendly kind face quite a few times during our stay was wonderful. She brought us a bag with food for Janey, some Play-Doh, puzzle books for me and other treats. I will be grateful for all those kind gestures, as I will be for all of you, my internet, blog and Facebook friends, for your support and love, for the rest of my life.
The United States is one of the richest countries on Earth. It is a shame, a crying, horrible shame, that we can't put more resources into helping our children with mental health issues. Next time you see a news article about a troubled adult acting out, remember they were once a troubled child, and that the money spent to help them at that point is far better spend that money that will be needed as an adult for prison or for a locked ward someplace. I hate to be that blunt, but that is the reality. One child having to "board" ever is one child too many.
Rarer in Girls...Life with my daughter Janey, who is 21 and severely autistic
Showing posts with label sitters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sitters. Show all posts
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
The Long Day's Journey---Part Two
After we got the news that Janey would be going to Bradley Hospital, we started packing up the room and getting ready for the call that is was time to go. We were told it would be a few hours, probably into the afternoon before we went, which was fine. Janey wasn't having a good day. Maybe just the change in the mood and the moving around of the stuff in the room upset her. She was screaming a lot, very agitated---not happy. Our "sitter" for the day was the same one we had had on Sunday. On Sunday, she had been one of our least favorite sitters. This day, however, after we took a while to talk to her, we found her to be a wonderful woman---warm and understanding and interesting. It taught me something I need to be taught over and over in life---that first impressions aren't always right. She told us she was praying hard for Janey. I am not much of a prayer, but I am a huge appreciator of people praying for me, and I was touched by her saying that.
As the day wore on, it was apparent that Janey's discharge was taking longer than anyone had said it would. Finally we were told there was some kind of hold-up with the insurance, but that it would be taken care of and we shouldn't worry. Well, I worried. A nurse once again checked with the referring department, and they said it wasn't the insurance, it was that they were waiting for a call from Bradley, and she suggested I call Bradley myself. I did, and they said it WAS the insurance---that they had not yet gotten the authorization. I told that to the Children's Hospital people, and they said not to worry again. I decided to call our insurance myself. That was not a fun call. The department that deals with our particular brand within the brand closes at 4:30pm. I called about 4:35, and although the woman I reached was very kind, she said there was no way at all she could access those records. I told her we could lose a placement we had been desperately waiting for, and she was very upset, but I don't think sincerely could do anything. I started calling every number on my card. I finally reached someone who might have been able to help. At that moment, a nurse found me and showed me a wonderful set of numbers--the authorization had come through.
The next wait was for the ambulance to take Janey to Rhode Island---about an hour's drive. It's a little unusual for people to be moved medically from Boston to Rhode Island. Usually it would be the other way around. So it took a while to get the ambulance. In the meantime, Janey was very upset. At one point, she suddenly lunged at and bit the sitter. The sitter was great---she said it was nothing, that Janey was sick and we should not worry about it. But word got out and the nurse in charge told the sitter she had to go report the incident to the hospital police and then go to the workman's comp office. The sitter tried to say the bite had not broken the skin and there was no need, but the nurse insisted, so the sitter left and I never really got to thank her. She was the last sitter we had---I guess since we were leaving, it was no longer considered necessary.
Finally, about 8 o'clock, we got an ambulance. The EMTs were wonderful. EMTs must be a special breed of people---they always seem great. Janey was thrilled to be leaving the room. She got onto the gurney very willingly, and was happy and alert almost the whole long trip to Rhode Island. I saat behind her, so she couldn't see me, and I did have to reassure her several times that was there. But overall, the ride was great. We arrived at the hospital about 9.
My first impression of the hospital, in the dark, was that it was much bigger than I pictured---all kinds of buildings. We were ushered into the admitting lobby. A security guard checked us for metal and took my bag to inspect. We didn't mind that at all---it kind of felt reassuring. The lobby was lovely---a gorgeous room, and we were met right away with lots of people. There were a lot of preliminary questions to be asked, and paperwork to be done. Janey was mostly happy, although she did bite herself a few times and once lunged at Tony, so it was seen why she was there.
One funny moment---I guess to certify that Janey was being admitted voluntarily, since she is 10, if possible they wanted her to sign a form saying she was there willingly. Janey can make a "J", and occasionally write the rest of her name if she is in the mood. We got the form and explained it to her---I am quite sure she didn't totally get it, but she took the pen and made a big "J" all over the paper. And that counted. Janey's first signature of a legal document! Thanks to all the teachers who taught her to write the J!
After a bit, a nurse came to take Janey to her ward. We stayed behind for a bit, signing a lot more papers. We learned a bit about her ward. It holds in total up to 18 kids, in two wings. Right then, there were 16 kids including Janey. And were were told that at the current time (even then at night) there were SIXTEEN milieu therapists. Milieu therapists was a another new term for us. Here's a definition---Milieu Therapist That is an amazing amount of hands on help! We were starting to realize we might be in a very good place.
We went to say goodnight to Janey in the ward after that. She had been given a room, her own room. It has a nice bed and a comfy chair, and a bathroom next to it. We were told someone would stay outside her door until she fell asleep. She was happy and excited. When we said goodnight, she waved dismissively and said "goodbye!" She has never been one to have a hard time separating from us, which in this case was good---we were able to leave without breaking down much.
The ride home continued the theme of the week---being stuck. We had a nice drive for the first 45 minutes or so, although we were both beyond tired. Then---nothing but brakelights. Something had stopped traffic on Route 95. We sat totally stopped for over an hour. We finally turned off the car and just waited. We called my sister in Colorado to see if she could look on line what was happening, as we don't have any smart phones, just dumb phones. She figured out the problem was something to do with downed wires. Finally, traffic started again and we finally got home about 1 am.
We slept very soundly last night! Now we are about to call to see what time the hospital wants to meet with us today. We are going to meet Janey's psychiatrist and start working on a plan as to what happens next. I am feeling hopeful, but still---overwhelmed, nervous, scared, stunned. I think she is in the right place, and I think we are on our way, but it's going to take a while for me to be able to really feel less than on full alert. It's been an experience so far like none in my life, like no experience I ever expected to have in my life. And it's a journey that is going to continue.
As the day wore on, it was apparent that Janey's discharge was taking longer than anyone had said it would. Finally we were told there was some kind of hold-up with the insurance, but that it would be taken care of and we shouldn't worry. Well, I worried. A nurse once again checked with the referring department, and they said it wasn't the insurance, it was that they were waiting for a call from Bradley, and she suggested I call Bradley myself. I did, and they said it WAS the insurance---that they had not yet gotten the authorization. I told that to the Children's Hospital people, and they said not to worry again. I decided to call our insurance myself. That was not a fun call. The department that deals with our particular brand within the brand closes at 4:30pm. I called about 4:35, and although the woman I reached was very kind, she said there was no way at all she could access those records. I told her we could lose a placement we had been desperately waiting for, and she was very upset, but I don't think sincerely could do anything. I started calling every number on my card. I finally reached someone who might have been able to help. At that moment, a nurse found me and showed me a wonderful set of numbers--the authorization had come through.
The next wait was for the ambulance to take Janey to Rhode Island---about an hour's drive. It's a little unusual for people to be moved medically from Boston to Rhode Island. Usually it would be the other way around. So it took a while to get the ambulance. In the meantime, Janey was very upset. At one point, she suddenly lunged at and bit the sitter. The sitter was great---she said it was nothing, that Janey was sick and we should not worry about it. But word got out and the nurse in charge told the sitter she had to go report the incident to the hospital police and then go to the workman's comp office. The sitter tried to say the bite had not broken the skin and there was no need, but the nurse insisted, so the sitter left and I never really got to thank her. She was the last sitter we had---I guess since we were leaving, it was no longer considered necessary.
Finally, about 8 o'clock, we got an ambulance. The EMTs were wonderful. EMTs must be a special breed of people---they always seem great. Janey was thrilled to be leaving the room. She got onto the gurney very willingly, and was happy and alert almost the whole long trip to Rhode Island. I saat behind her, so she couldn't see me, and I did have to reassure her several times that was there. But overall, the ride was great. We arrived at the hospital about 9.
My first impression of the hospital, in the dark, was that it was much bigger than I pictured---all kinds of buildings. We were ushered into the admitting lobby. A security guard checked us for metal and took my bag to inspect. We didn't mind that at all---it kind of felt reassuring. The lobby was lovely---a gorgeous room, and we were met right away with lots of people. There were a lot of preliminary questions to be asked, and paperwork to be done. Janey was mostly happy, although she did bite herself a few times and once lunged at Tony, so it was seen why she was there.
One funny moment---I guess to certify that Janey was being admitted voluntarily, since she is 10, if possible they wanted her to sign a form saying she was there willingly. Janey can make a "J", and occasionally write the rest of her name if she is in the mood. We got the form and explained it to her---I am quite sure she didn't totally get it, but she took the pen and made a big "J" all over the paper. And that counted. Janey's first signature of a legal document! Thanks to all the teachers who taught her to write the J!
After a bit, a nurse came to take Janey to her ward. We stayed behind for a bit, signing a lot more papers. We learned a bit about her ward. It holds in total up to 18 kids, in two wings. Right then, there were 16 kids including Janey. And were were told that at the current time (even then at night) there were SIXTEEN milieu therapists. Milieu therapists was a another new term for us. Here's a definition---Milieu Therapist That is an amazing amount of hands on help! We were starting to realize we might be in a very good place.
We went to say goodnight to Janey in the ward after that. She had been given a room, her own room. It has a nice bed and a comfy chair, and a bathroom next to it. We were told someone would stay outside her door until she fell asleep. She was happy and excited. When we said goodnight, she waved dismissively and said "goodbye!" She has never been one to have a hard time separating from us, which in this case was good---we were able to leave without breaking down much.
The ride home continued the theme of the week---being stuck. We had a nice drive for the first 45 minutes or so, although we were both beyond tired. Then---nothing but brakelights. Something had stopped traffic on Route 95. We sat totally stopped for over an hour. We finally turned off the car and just waited. We called my sister in Colorado to see if she could look on line what was happening, as we don't have any smart phones, just dumb phones. She figured out the problem was something to do with downed wires. Finally, traffic started again and we finally got home about 1 am.
We slept very soundly last night! Now we are about to call to see what time the hospital wants to meet with us today. We are going to meet Janey's psychiatrist and start working on a plan as to what happens next. I am feeling hopeful, but still---overwhelmed, nervous, scared, stunned. I think she is in the right place, and I think we are on our way, but it's going to take a while for me to be able to really feel less than on full alert. It's been an experience so far like none in my life, like no experience I ever expected to have in my life. And it's a journey that is going to continue.
Monday, November 17, 2014
A Whole New World Part Two
I am home for the night from the hospital---Tony is staying with Janey tonight, although I am of course on call if he needs me. I plan to go back in about 6 am tomorrow. Everyone has been telling me I should just sleep once I get home, and maybe that is good advice, but blogging here yesterday felt the first thing I've done in days that made sense. So I am going to continue my story. I don't think I'll catch up to the present this post, but we'll see.
After I went back to the room, after Janey's major all hell breaking loose meltdown, a few things happened. One is that I found there was a woman in the room, someone called a "sitter". The whole world of this kind of hospital scene being new to me, I'd never heard of a sitter. But I have found out since it's standard protocol for psychiatric patients in non-psych wards. They are women (so far all women) that sit in the room and keep an eye on how things are going. Some do more, some don't. They are there ALL THE TIME. If they have to go to the bathroom, they have to get someone else to come in. More on how that all feels later. At this point, I was too dazed to think much.
A few minutes after going back to the room, I was told Janey was being moved once again, to a quieter area of the emergency room. The new room was a little bigger than the second room, but as in the 2nd room, a part of the room was closed off by a door like a garage door. This blocks off the area of the room with medical devices, the sink and everything really but beds and TV and floor. Again, we were supposed to keep the door open at all times.
Janey was very unhappy. She started to again lash out. This time, the psychiatrist covering the ER didn't want to give her more medication. He said instead we should just walk around with her to try to calm her. A good idea in theory, but in practice, it didn't work well. Janey kept trying to take off her clothes, and she didn't want to wear socks or shoes even when her clothes were on, which made leaving the room a battle. She several times stopped in the middle of walking the loop of the ER and tried to take off her socks or clothes again.
At this point, I decided I'd had enough. I called the nurse and said I felt being at the hospital was only making things much worse. I said I wanted to be discharged---that I needed to take Janey home. I kind of knew that wasn't going to happen, but I had to say my piece. I was crying hysterically and (in my mind) yelling (the nurse later said I wasn't yelling at all, but I am so non-confrontational it felt like yelling). The nurse said it wasn't safe to take Janey home, that although it was very hard, we needed to stay. She said she did have good news---we were going to be admitted and moved to a private room on a medical ward. We would be a term that is new to me, "boarders" I guess there are many boarders around---kids that need a psych ward but for whom no psych ward is available. I was learning new vocabulary fast that day.
The move came about an hour after that. The room was a huge step up from being in the ER. It was up on the top floor of the hospital, in what is actually a transplant ward. That is where they had room. It had a bathroom, a window ledge bed for parents and more room for Janey to move about. That last detail was more important than I realized at first, as I was told once we got there that Janey could not leave the room. She had to stay in the room at all times---it wasn't considered safe for her to leave.
Janey freaked out again badly a little bit after getting to the room. She did the routine that was now and is now starting to seem familiar---tried to take off her clothes, screamed, arched her back, lashed at me and tried to pull my hair and bite me, tried to do the same to the sitter in the room---the same awful sequence. A lot of nurses came in and had to restrain her. They gave her an extra dose of Risperadol again. After about 10 minutes, she calmed a bit. She eventually went to sleep around 9 that night. I told Tony he could go home, and I passed out cold asleep too.
Janey woke up at 3 am, freaking out once again. Very similar---a rapidly escalating hysteria that led to her having to be restrained and having her get more medication. When I say restrained, I don't mean with straps or anything---I mean her arms and legs held down by us. She was up from 3 on.
The rest of that day, Sunday (the days are blending together) felt a little more bearable than the days before. That is a very, very relative thing---before the two horrible days before, I would have felt like it was one of the worst days of my life. But since Janey didn't have a lashing out incident during the daytime, it felt barely bearable. I say barely, because she was absolutely constantly restless. She would want to watch TV, would watch for a minute or two, then change the channel, then want to get on the antique laptop, then on her iPad, then she would ask to take a shower and I would give her a pretend shower in the bathroom, just to change scenery (I gave her a real shower that night, but if she had any many as she would have liked, she'd have had 10 showers), then she would say she wanted to snuggle, then she'd want me to get up, then would go to where I was and want me to move again...repeat all day long. And endlessly, she would ask to take a walk. And I would have to say no---we couldn't take a walk. Which killed me. It felt, quite frankly, like being in prison. You have an agitated, frantic child who very much likes to stay active, and you can't leave the room? For days?
Janey went to sleep about 7 that night. I couldn't get to sleep right away. I wrote the blog entry before this one, I played some Scrabble I just lay there thinking and trying to organize all that had happened in my mind.
Janey woke at midnight, with another outburst. The nurse that came and helped me restrain her and calm her down said something that I guess I was ready to hear at that point. She said "You have to keep yourself safe. You have to step away when Janey is trying to hurt you. You can be a better mother to her if you don't sacrifice yourself" In my sleep-deprived state, my mind suddenly really understood that for the first time. I have to keep myself going. That is the only way I will be able to keep going for Janey. She was talking literally about when Janey bites or kicks me, but I expanded the thought to mean more. I have been reflecting on that thought a lot.
I want to write more, but I will listen to the last paragraph and get some sleep. As a preview of the next day's events, I'll say that we don't yet have any placement in a psych ward, and there is no sign of one in sight. We will have to remain at Children's Hospital until we get one. I hear often two weeks as a common time frame. I very much hope for something sooner. Of course, even then, Janey will not be home, and we will not really be home, although we won't be staying with her. But we will want to visit as much as possible, and the two possible hospitals are both at least an hour away. This new world is not going back to being the old world any time soon.
After I went back to the room, after Janey's major all hell breaking loose meltdown, a few things happened. One is that I found there was a woman in the room, someone called a "sitter". The whole world of this kind of hospital scene being new to me, I'd never heard of a sitter. But I have found out since it's standard protocol for psychiatric patients in non-psych wards. They are women (so far all women) that sit in the room and keep an eye on how things are going. Some do more, some don't. They are there ALL THE TIME. If they have to go to the bathroom, they have to get someone else to come in. More on how that all feels later. At this point, I was too dazed to think much.
A few minutes after going back to the room, I was told Janey was being moved once again, to a quieter area of the emergency room. The new room was a little bigger than the second room, but as in the 2nd room, a part of the room was closed off by a door like a garage door. This blocks off the area of the room with medical devices, the sink and everything really but beds and TV and floor. Again, we were supposed to keep the door open at all times.
Janey was very unhappy. She started to again lash out. This time, the psychiatrist covering the ER didn't want to give her more medication. He said instead we should just walk around with her to try to calm her. A good idea in theory, but in practice, it didn't work well. Janey kept trying to take off her clothes, and she didn't want to wear socks or shoes even when her clothes were on, which made leaving the room a battle. She several times stopped in the middle of walking the loop of the ER and tried to take off her socks or clothes again.
At this point, I decided I'd had enough. I called the nurse and said I felt being at the hospital was only making things much worse. I said I wanted to be discharged---that I needed to take Janey home. I kind of knew that wasn't going to happen, but I had to say my piece. I was crying hysterically and (in my mind) yelling (the nurse later said I wasn't yelling at all, but I am so non-confrontational it felt like yelling). The nurse said it wasn't safe to take Janey home, that although it was very hard, we needed to stay. She said she did have good news---we were going to be admitted and moved to a private room on a medical ward. We would be a term that is new to me, "boarders" I guess there are many boarders around---kids that need a psych ward but for whom no psych ward is available. I was learning new vocabulary fast that day.
The move came about an hour after that. The room was a huge step up from being in the ER. It was up on the top floor of the hospital, in what is actually a transplant ward. That is where they had room. It had a bathroom, a window ledge bed for parents and more room for Janey to move about. That last detail was more important than I realized at first, as I was told once we got there that Janey could not leave the room. She had to stay in the room at all times---it wasn't considered safe for her to leave.
Janey freaked out again badly a little bit after getting to the room. She did the routine that was now and is now starting to seem familiar---tried to take off her clothes, screamed, arched her back, lashed at me and tried to pull my hair and bite me, tried to do the same to the sitter in the room---the same awful sequence. A lot of nurses came in and had to restrain her. They gave her an extra dose of Risperadol again. After about 10 minutes, she calmed a bit. She eventually went to sleep around 9 that night. I told Tony he could go home, and I passed out cold asleep too.
Janey woke up at 3 am, freaking out once again. Very similar---a rapidly escalating hysteria that led to her having to be restrained and having her get more medication. When I say restrained, I don't mean with straps or anything---I mean her arms and legs held down by us. She was up from 3 on.
The rest of that day, Sunday (the days are blending together) felt a little more bearable than the days before. That is a very, very relative thing---before the two horrible days before, I would have felt like it was one of the worst days of my life. But since Janey didn't have a lashing out incident during the daytime, it felt barely bearable. I say barely, because she was absolutely constantly restless. She would want to watch TV, would watch for a minute or two, then change the channel, then want to get on the antique laptop, then on her iPad, then she would ask to take a shower and I would give her a pretend shower in the bathroom, just to change scenery (I gave her a real shower that night, but if she had any many as she would have liked, she'd have had 10 showers), then she would say she wanted to snuggle, then she'd want me to get up, then would go to where I was and want me to move again...repeat all day long. And endlessly, she would ask to take a walk. And I would have to say no---we couldn't take a walk. Which killed me. It felt, quite frankly, like being in prison. You have an agitated, frantic child who very much likes to stay active, and you can't leave the room? For days?
Janey went to sleep about 7 that night. I couldn't get to sleep right away. I wrote the blog entry before this one, I played some Scrabble I just lay there thinking and trying to organize all that had happened in my mind.
Janey woke at midnight, with another outburst. The nurse that came and helped me restrain her and calm her down said something that I guess I was ready to hear at that point. She said "You have to keep yourself safe. You have to step away when Janey is trying to hurt you. You can be a better mother to her if you don't sacrifice yourself" In my sleep-deprived state, my mind suddenly really understood that for the first time. I have to keep myself going. That is the only way I will be able to keep going for Janey. She was talking literally about when Janey bites or kicks me, but I expanded the thought to mean more. I have been reflecting on that thought a lot.
I want to write more, but I will listen to the last paragraph and get some sleep. As a preview of the next day's events, I'll say that we don't yet have any placement in a psych ward, and there is no sign of one in sight. We will have to remain at Children's Hospital until we get one. I hear often two weeks as a common time frame. I very much hope for something sooner. Of course, even then, Janey will not be home, and we will not really be home, although we won't be staying with her. But we will want to visit as much as possible, and the two possible hospitals are both at least an hour away. This new world is not going back to being the old world any time soon.
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