Time to Medicate? Why You Should Never Doubt Your Decisions

The decision to place our youngest son on Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) medicine was not something we took lightly.  It was a decision that we fought for a long time.  We used behavior management techniques, dietary modification, and many of the other popular methods for trying to help a child cope with ADD. In spite of our best efforts, our son ultimately made the decision for us.

As I have discussed in previous postings, it was a series of events that led us to make the decision to place our son on ADD medication.  His frustration with himself and his inability to focus and adequately express himself to others resulted in a very angry child.  The final straw was the day I walked into the kitchen and found my son bleeding all over because he had attempted to cut up an apple for a snack rather than come and ask for help.  His impulsive behavior was becoming more and more dangerous as his gross motor and fine motor skills improved.

It took awhile to find the right medicine that worked for him as it was intended.  We were trying to treat ADD symptoms in a child that had complicated neurological issues that could not be explained simply as ADD.  Ultimately, we found a medicine that didn't sedate him, didn't alter his moods or personality, but still offered a degree of impulse control.  The medicine hasn't given him the degree of focus needed to help him get through a school day as well as the school had hoped but our biggest concern was being addressed.  The medicine helped him slow down his thought process long enough to help him curb his impulsiveness and reduce the risk he often posed to himself.

Despite the gains we have made, I have often questioned our decision.  You hear and read about those parents that are able to manage their child's ADD symptoms without the need for medicine and it makes me question if I am working hard enough.  It makes me question my motivations.  I try to always be honest with myself and my intentions.  I have a fairly clear conscience when it comes to my son.  His best interest is almost always my first priority.

Tonight, I was given clarity and resolution on this issue.  After giving our son a haircut, I put him in the shower and went out to the living room to continue working on a test I was writing for my students.  In a matter of minutes, he appeared, dripping wet and bleeding all over.  I quickly dried him off so I could see where he was bleeding.  He told me that he was trying to shave and cut his thumb with the razor.  Thankfully, he had removed a swath of skin from his thumb but didn't appear to be bleeding from anywhere else.  We applied pressure to the wound and then tightly bandaged it to stop the bleeding.  Our next step was cleaning up the trail of blood that covered the bathroom, vanity drawers, toilet paper roll, towels, and bedroom floor.

His medicine had worn off in the early afternoon so he was back to "himself".  Because we know he is impulsive, we keep all razors and sharp objects up out of reach.  He had climbed to the ledge up above the shower to get a razor.  He then used baby oil gel and attempted to shave his legs.  When he sliced his thumb, he hopped out of the shower, dripping water everywhere, and attempted to stop the bleeding with toilet paper.  When he couldn't stop the bleeding, he ran to the vanity and attempted to get band-aids to cover the slice.  When that failed, he came to me in a panic.

While processing the situation, I questioned if he was bleeding anywhere else.  Where had he used the razor?  For a moment, he forgot how upset he was and proudly said "I shaved my legs.  Feel how smooth they are."  He gave me a big grin until he remembered that he had hurt himself and was upset.

I felt absolute clarity in that moment.  This is why we put him on the medicine.  His brain needed assistance to slow his thought process down enough to let him think through his ideas, impulses and decisions.  When I look at where we were two years ago and where we are today, I am clear that we made the right decision for us.  The medicine has given us the ability to breathe.  Prior to the medicine, we were supervising an eight year-old with the same level of supervision that you would give a three or four year-old.  We were hyper diligent to the point of controlling.  The medicine has helped him start to develop a degree of self regulation that is more age appropriate for a boy of nine.  It has allowed us to have a sense of confidence that we can allow him to take chances and begin to self regulate without us hovering over him.  That growth is needed.  It is to be celebrated.

I hate these moments that put the fear back in my mind because it's always in my heart.  On the other hand, I'm grateful that we have made enough progress that I see it as a bad moment and not a sign that things are not going in the right direction.  Instead, tonight's episode showed me how much progress we have made and where we were, how far we have come, and where we are going.  I am grateful for moments of clarity.  As always, I am grateful for God's grace.

What Gets You Through the Tough Times?

I have an amazing life filled with beautiful people and innumerable blessings.  Many things in my life also haven't gone as expected.  I couldn't be more grateful for those unforeseen circumstances because without them I wouldn't be who I am today.  Those trials have made me stronger as a person and more faithful as a believer.  There are two guiding truths that I try to live by.  Your attitude and your choices help determine your circumstances.  God's grace gets you through those circumstances when you can't do it on your own.

Your perspective on the people and situations that you encounter often determines the final outcome.  Truth be told, there are days I don't know if I can deal with all that life has given me but I look at it this way, what's the alternative?  Give up?  Give in?  Quit?  Walk out?  Walk away?  Those are choices.  Doing nothing is a choice.  Standing strong.  Fighting back.  Educating yourself.  Working hard.  Those are choices.  I choose the positive choices whenever possible.  That's where attitude comes in.

I have bad days.  You've read about them in this blog.  There are days I feel sad, beat down, angry, let down.  But my attitude determines what I do with those feelings.  I refuse to let those feelings influence my decisions.  I choose instead to use those feelings to fuel my determination in a positive direction.  My attitude is that families stick together.  Period.  Kids are not disposable.  Period.  Marriages are not temporary.  Period.  At times, life can be unfair and downright rotten.  Get over it.  Move forward.  If something is wrong, fix it.  Don't play the victim in your life.  Get angry and find a solution.

These aren't empty words.  Those that know me, know that I stand by them.  Some of you know some of my past but very few know all of it.  Those that know me well know that I will overcome anything you put in my path.  Anything.

Why?

God's grace.  It's not my strength.  It's not my determination.  I'm not that strong.  I am weak and flawed and screw up royally.  God's grace gives my strength when I am weak.  He gives me answers when I have none.  He's the voice in my head giving me pause or pushing me forward.  I'm not that strong.  God is.

My ferociously strong autistic girl stood before me, bellowing her rage and injustice at the world.  I felt my anger rise to the surface.  At that moment, a little voice inside told me "Take a breath. Breathe deep."  I offered up a silent prayer Let me say the right words.  Let me know the right course of action.  Not knowing where the words came from, I calmly heard myself say "Please stop yelling at me.  I love you.  You know I'm not what has you upset.  You know what the real problem is.  Stop yelling and talk to me."  She stopped, threw her arms around me and said "I love you.  I'm sorry." and started telling me that she's terrified because she's being transferred to a new program soon and she doesn't know how to handle it.

A few short hours later, I walk into my home to see my son ready for battle.  His body tight with anger, eyes shooting messages that I don't understand.  I can see where this is going and it's not anywhere positive.  I'm tired.  I've already put in a long day.  Can't I just come home to a loving family, a peaceful evening?  As he starts to launch into a fit, I hear that quiet voice inside guiding me "Take a breath.  Breathe deep."  I hear myself say I love you.  Please stop yelling at me and tell me what's wrong. 

I always regret the moments when I choose to ignore that quiet guiding voice inside because I'm tired or frustrated or just sick of being the bigger person.  Those moments never end positively and I'm always left with regret.  Life's trials teach me that I need God and his grace because I'm not strong enough to do it on my own.

How do you deal with life's trials?  What sees you through the tough times?  Many blessings to you and yours.

Allowing Growth to Happen

Because I am single sided deaf and tend to sleep on the side which has my good ear, I often don't know that our son is awake until he comes to waken me, or a loud noise penetrates my pillow.  That was the case this morning.  I was startled awake by a noise that I quickly realized was the sound of plates being put gently (please interpret sarcasm here) into the kitchen cupboard.  This sound effectively launched me into full consciousness.  I called to our son and asked him to come see me.  As soon as he entered our bedroom, I could tell by the gleam in his eye and the telltale vibration of energy coming off of him that he was in one of his excited, fixated states.  He was a man on a mission.

I took a deep breath and asked him what he was up to.  He told me that he was unloading the dishwasher for me and making his breakfast.  When I started to get out of bed, he quickly exclaimed "I only have the easy stuff to do now.  The spoons and forks and knives."  With that pronouncement, he quickly scampered out of the room.  I quickly got around and went out to see what state the kitchen may be in.  To my pleasant surprise, things looked pretty good.  He had streudel in the toaster and was pulling peanut butter out of the cupboard in his jittery, manic state of unrestrained happiness.  I told him I would finish getting his breakfast around if he wanted to finish putting the silverware away.  He spun around and grabbed the milk out of the fridge, then spun back around and started putting the silverware where it belonged.  Full on energy burst.  Woohoo!

Because his energy can sometimes feed my own, I took a deep breath and took stock of the situation.  He had used a step stool to put the high items away but had even put that back where it belonged.  Nothing was broken.  For once, nothing was spilled or strewn about.  The kitchen looked pretty good.  As he spread the icing on top of the peanut butter I had spread on his streudel, he looked at me and said "I wanted to do something for you because you do so much for me.  You pack my lunch and cook my food.  You're always doing stuff for me.  I wanted to do this for you."  Wow.  Total heart melt.  

This small morning interaction brought home several very important points for me.  The first is that he does see and recognize what we are doing for him out of love.  Sometimes it doesn't feel that way when we are battling over completing homework or cleaning up after himself.  It's nice to know that he does appreciate us.  The second is that he has the empathy skills to desire to do something back for someone that does for him.  So often, it seems as if kids these days are lacking empathy and compassion for others.  We've tried really hard to instill that in our children. It was nice to see the evidence that our hard work may be paying off.  Finally, my little guy isn't so little any more.  He is growing up.  Maybe I need to stop working so hard to protect him from failure and rejection and let him spread those little wings and start to experiment with flying.  It doesn't mean I won't be there to help him when he stumbles and protect him when there's danger.  It just means I need to let him make mistakes, learn from independent experiences, and experiment with who he is and who he may become.  When we came so close to losing him in the past, it's hard to take that step back but independence and self-sufficiency is our ultimate goal.  I need to let my little bird start to fly.