Meeting of Hope

Tonight we go do some more problem solving with Kaeden's school. Yet another appointment to TRY to help our son. He isn't doing well, and the weight of his unhappiness is falling heavy on my shoulders. My heart aches for my son. I can no longer call him my little boy, at a whopping 17 years old and 6 feet, but he remains my child, my heart.

Kaeden has been reacting (overreacting) very aggressively the past couple of months. He has broken many things, but even bigger, he has also become physically aggressive towards people. When he physically assaulted me, I called the police for assistance. Who wants to make that kind of decision when it comes to her child? But it wasn't a decision I had to make. When my head got bashed into the wall, I knew it was time for intervention. That type of battery I can not accept from anyone, including my son. No, I am unwilling to accept being physically abused, or the abuse of other people. It is inhumane, and respect needs to be learned, whatever the cost.

The cost is high. My son no longer lives under my roof. He is *temporarily* living at his home away from home with a visit home on the weekend. And though his weekend visit home has been very positive and we've all had fun together without problems, the fact is that his behavior problems have moved to new ground: specifically, his group home. School is also a point of disaster. And everyone seems to be losing hope, losing the drive to further help him, becoming lost in a world of what do we do now?

The positive of all of this is that his group home now sees, instead of just hearing about, Kaeden's disruptive behavior, his outbursts and disrespect. His autism. The downside is that they aren't sure how to help him. My loving, sweet, happy kid with meldowns and outbursts has turned into a very unhappy, constantly disruptive, friendless young man. He hates his group home as the rules have become too overwhelming, and he often gets his rewards taken away, while he twiddles his thumbs in his lcoked up bedroom. The other guys living with him are tired of him and his ways, and most have turned their backs on the friendly kid who used to be their friend.

And my son calls me, something I consider a blessing, to bear his soul, cry, scream and curse. I promise him I will do all I can to help him. I thank him for confiding in me. I ask what I can do??? And he never knows how to help me to help him. He, too, is lost. And as I calmly speak to my son, reminding him how far respect goes, hwo we all care about him and want to help him, his tears echo in not only my ear, but my heart. I want to clasp him to me, envelop him in my love...but even that I cannot do and even as my soul aches, my mind is happy that he uses me as his out, calls me to help him through his time of need. And somewhere inside, I regretfully feel comfort in the fact that it didn't happen at home...that I wasn't subjected to his disrespect, his outburst, the fear. That for once, I can be his comfort, his sounding block, the place he turns when the world gets too much.

So, tonight we go meet with the group of 10 people all surrounding my son, doing what we can to try to help him, hoping that one day something will click and he will again become the happy, friendly kid that hates authority of any kind. That kid is easier to work with.

I hope we can come up with a plan. I'd like my kid to call me and say: Hi Mama, I'm having a GREAT day! That we could both (all) find comfort and feel the freshness of the wind on our face...not only that cold, bitter chill.

Stomach Pain

I have complained about having knots in my stomach before. Though I have never really dealt with any stomach problems, issues I have had with Kaeden have caused some bouts with an upset tummy. But this time, this time it's different.

Waiting for these biopsy results have given me a glimpse of what stomach pain means. I don't feel like I have to throw up, I don't feel like it's something I ate, but there is a pain inside that just never leaves. It's true stomach pain.

I am STILL waiting for my biopsy results. Every day, I wait til 10 am to call my doctor (her phone hours) and then again I watch the clock tick away until 6 (her other phone consults). And every day she tells me the same thing: I'm sorry, there is nothing yet.

Last night as I called her, I was shaking like a leaf. I could barely keep the phone to my ear, fearful of hearing either yes or no. In all honesty, I am scared of having cancer, but nearly as scared if it isn't. What is the problem if it isn't cancer? What will I have to do? Will I be scared every day of my life that somewhere lurking inside me is cancer? Will every pain I have in life make me think it is cancer? And if it is cancer, god forbid....

Last night, when my doc told me the results weren't in, I commented: Oh no. My husband was with me in the kitchen and I watched as his face turned to ash and he slowly moved to my side and rubbed my shoulder. "Bad news?" he asked, as I realized he had only heard "Oh no." I immediately eased his worry by telling him the results weren't in, but his ashen face remained in my mind as I completed the call. This has affected all of us. My husband is under as much stress as me. His worry comforts me, but makes me feel guilty as well. Just how much stress can a person take?

Every day, I have friends and family calling for news. I have a support system and that is so good. Last night, the phone rang 5 times, one call after another...as much as I appreciate the support and their worry over my health, it is also extremely nerve-wreaking when the phone does ring. Sends a bit of a shiver through my spine. It's hard to explain. It's very weird to have to report on findings that don't yet even exist.

My doctor is contacting the hospital today. She will be calling me this afternoon. What does that mean? 1pm? 4pm? 5:30? My nerves are buzzing. I can't stop shaking. It's strange, this shaking sensation that just doesn't stop. I wonder, should I take my son to his basketball tournament, and possibly miss THE call? Or should I sit and wait, as I have been doing for more than a week already? I am so angry at the hospital as they told me the results would be in on Monday. How dare they say Monday when it's Wednesday already, and I still have no answer. I will be writing a letter, informing them that their misguided information has caused my family and I extreme stress that is unneccessary. Had they said: Your reaults will be in the end of next week. I wouldn't be so uptight and tawt. But expecting something this serious on Monday and still waiting....it's unacceptable.

So, I continue to wait. Every tick on the clock feels like an hour. And the pain in my stomach, well, it sits there taunting me.