Oman, what a day. I never would've guessed what would come next. I suppose that's pretty much the theme for this entire new life. Is it good that I'm getting used to it?
The day started with me going to Job 1. It had been a few days, perhaps even a week, that R started behaving erratically. I slept on our new sofa just to keep a closer eye on him. But all that was pre Level-1. This is now.
R just wasn't coming out of his state of psychosis. He acted so erratic that A finally called the local Crisis Response Team (CRT). We differ on that course of action. They came during one of R's previous episodes, yet didn't offer much in the way of help other than validation. Also, our insurance got a huge bill, but we didn't. Still scary nonetheless.
Two older gentlemen arrived, sat on our sofa and observed R pace back and forth. He complained about the bot in his head, but we all convinced him to travel with us to the Center and get his Invega injection. The question was, would he accept it? So, the CRT team asked if we'd like an escort to the center, and we declined. We thought R might feel better if they weren't hanging on and we were overconfident.
R was spiraling and we felt the Invega injection would be the breakthrough we need. But we didn't know what we know now and had no idea the injection wasn't fast acting. In fact, the first couple of injections are rather slow acting until they build up in his system. Upon arriving at the center, we checked R in and waited patiently for the the Medical Assistant to call us back. R's peer counselor and doctor were on hand for support. But R wouldn't go in the room. Once he realized what was about to happen, second thoughts arose and he flinched, badly.
He paced around the back office and wouldn't listen to reason. Everyone tried to get him to comply, blocked his way and tried to get him to listen, but he wanted none of it. Word to the wise. I didn't know the injection was so pricey and once it's in the syringe, it has 40 mins before it's expired and insurance may not pay for it. Yikes. Sadly, that was my main concern at the time. Thinking back, maybe I was being punished for being so petty when I see where we are now.
At the Center's request, we took R outside to walk around the building while we figured what to do. It was best for everyone's nerves, including R's. We took turns and must have walked at least 50 laps around. Finally, Dr. G came out and told us he didn't think R was coming out of it a and we needed intervention. So, the CRT was called once again.
We convened in the main meeting room upstairs let the two young ladies go to work. R agreed to work with one of them while his case manager and I talked to the other. I remember telling the story about his dog Brewski, who is so loved and how he now wanted to get rid of him. Huge Red Flag! The CM said she could fast track him to the Center's Level 1 facility without having to go through the Crisis Response Center (CRC), a place he hates; a necessary evil, but the lowest rung of stabilization. I'm not trying to dump on them. I know it's a tough job, it just needs more support.
Now here's the sad part. We have to get him there and he's not willing. That's an odd thing to remember, but I can't forget. It took the entire center staff to guide him to the elevator. CRT informed us we may have to lay hands on him, gently, but also firmly. Boy, that was the truth. It was like a wicked game of Red Rover where we all linked hands to block off any exits. 20 minutes to get him into the elevator, then onto the car was even worse. At least an hour if not more. He wanted to run, to where I have not idea, but rational thought never figured into the equation. We actually tried shoving him into the van without hurting him. We reasoned it was for his own good, but he couldn't hear. I took the position of being inside the van on the other seat to pull R in, but damn!
It finally happened and A and I had to stand guard on either side to make sure he didn't bolt. So how can we drive safely. We tried, but then realized it would be too dangerous, plus, how would we get him from the car to the other building. So then, the long an futile wait for the police began.
Another tip from the BranMan. Learn how to set you child safety latches on your vehicle doors. We were not in a position to investigate how to do so and had to stand guard on either side of R. He wanted to bolt, where would he go, I don't know, but he wanted out !
If we had only known. That's a theme I'll be sharing though out this story so please keep an eye out for it. In this case, if we had only known we'd be waiting for the cops to show, we would have brought sweaters. Gadzooks we waited. CRT waited with us and called 911 repeatedly to get some priority. They had us do the same and the dispatchers did what they could, but we just waited and R fretted and wailed. It was just sad.
Finally, after 3 hours, we made the decision to do something. We let the CRT know we wanted to wait at home and our last call to 911, we asked as such. Of course, we get the standard "you know what's best for your family, but we recommend you wait" line. But they also know we've been waiting 3+ hours right along with us. They even as asked to drive and take a potty break nearby. Remember, the Center was closed and dark. So, they suggested we perhaps try the ER across the street.
We followed them them and then they told us we had to travel elsewhere, but nearby. During the trip, we authentically lost them at a traffic light. Moreover, we didn't know where we were headed. So we made sure R was going to be good and we headed home. On the way home, I asked R to please take his medication. That was the big solution to keep him home and not involve the authorities. He heartily agreed multiple times.
We got home and let the 911 dispatcher know. R refused to take his meds.
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