halfgeek.codes

We had quite a day here yesterday.

Among the good news: Our kiddo is getting her medications sorted out; our "other kiddo" got married; and I got a job offer. About the only way it could have been better — realistically better, I mean — would have been if Laurel's promotion had finally come through.

Here are some details:

• Last school year, kiddo finally got a diagnosis of some peculiar behavior she'd been having since a couple of months after the start of the school year. That diagnosis is not the kind of thing a parent wants to hear, but receiving it is worth celebrating when your kid is suffering, because it unlocks all kinds of assistance for your child. Anyway, a few months ago, the specialist increased her dosage on a particular medication, and, as it turns out, kiddo started having some pretty unsavory thoughts starting at about that time. That kind of behavior is apparently a known side effect of this specific medication. So she has been admitted to a behavioral hospital for analysis and observation — but the biggest benefit of admitting her is that a new medicinal regimen can be started immediately. Without that, it could have taken weeks to get things switched around. We are confident she is getting put on the right track, and, at this point in the summer, it should set us up for a greatly improved school year. *

• Laurel and I have a sort of quasi-daughter. She and Laurel met several years ago and they just kind of hit it off. When she learned that the girl needed help, she offered to let her live in our home for a short time. And in that time, she really turned her life around. So I couldn't be prouder to have learned that she got married yesterday!

• I have been doing contract work since last September. I thought I was on a good trajectory for converting to FTE, but my new director has other plans. This is a big problem for me, because company policy specifies I cannot contract with them for more than a year at a time without a significant break in service (like 90 days) — and nobody can afford to leave a job, not work for 3 months, and then return. Well, nobody I know. So I've been quietly in the market since that conversation. Yesterday one of the companies I've been speaking with notified me of their intent to offer me a position, and I'm elated. Details have yet to be discussed, but more on this will follow if I accept the offer.

• And speaking of jobs and offers, Laurel is a very good candidate for a more senior position with her employer. She's been through three rounds of interviews, and apparently there's another to come. As I understand it, she'll be one of three in the entire company doing this kind of work; seems to me they want to be sure they get this right. So while we didn't hear anything about it yesterday, I'm hopeful good news will reach her ears in the coming days.

*Now, I wrote all of that stuff about kiddo before we went to visit her yesterday. Holy Hell. It felt like we were visiting kiddo in jail — about all that was missing were orange uniforms on the kids and bars on the doors. We were restricted from bringing ANYTHING in with us to visit her — no mobile phones, not even sunglasses. Most of the patients are there for either drug overdoses or attempted suicides — I suspect their daily regimen is geared toward these — so they're all in group therapy sessions most of the day. Kiddo described one boy who said he tried to hang himself, but whatever he'd tied the rope to on the ceiling broke; so he tried to slash his arms, but he missed every vein. So in addition to feeling out of sorts with the structured environment and all the strangers, she doesn't really have anything in common with the other patients, either. She hates group therapy because she's forced to talk about herself and her feelings and all, and she's really uncomfortable with that. I tried to offer what comfort I could by reminding her that she's never going to see any of these people again, so she really could "let it all out" — get everything off of her chest she's been holding in; it's an opportunity to spill to complete strangers she'll never see again. We sat with her for an uncomfortable hour. And we'll do it again today. Hopefully she'll have had more sleep.