Well, it has been a long while since I posted here, and as my own anxiety problem wanes, my son's is picking up, getting more and more...just more.
The last while of school was difficult.
The doctor appointment I referred to in my last post was a worthless waste of time. Even as my boy sat curled up in a chair, refusing to answer the doctor's questions or meet her gaze, she only half granted half of my request for specific help for my son. You see, one of my family members is friends with someone quite well-known in the children's mental health world. That family member got me some valuable advice, including specific places to be referred to. I brought that information to my doctor and not only did she not give me both referrals like I asked, the one that she did set up for me, she referred to the wrong service.
That service called me a few days later, and my heart sank as her assessment of the situation had her advising me to find a psychologist myself; use my husband's benefits if he has any, or if we are too poor, to try to get in with the low-income subsidized counsellors in the city, which could take awhile.
Forgive my crass-ness, but FUCK.
I am ASKING for help for my child. WHY must this be so difficult???
I was frustrated, but decided to wait on the family member's friend's assistance. She's a super busy person though (understandably!), and after our two-week vacation, I decided I could wait no longer. I really need something started before school starts up again. After making this decision and getting the ball rolling on it, I was told that the provincial mental health people always say NO to taking children on as patients. The ones with parents who call back, contest it, push, fight, yell, won't take no for an answer...those are the kids who get help. You know what? I'm all for a good fight over something that my child is entitled to by being a citizen of this city, province and country, but right now I just don't have the time for it. So, the $$$$$ route we will go.
SO...over the weekend I filled in pages and pages of paperwork about my boy. I photocopied all relevant documents supporting my claim, and gathered recent pictures of him to make up his file. Monday my hubby dropped all the info off to our psychologist, and this morning I went, alone, to meet with her, discuss the paperwork and answer any questions she had about what she has read.
Today cost me $335.
It makes me feel a little sick to my stomach.
But I have to just keep telling myself it is worth it. It will be worth it. Seeing my boy run into school happily, rather than being dragged there will be worth it. Watching him not fighting himself to get into the water for his swimming lesson will be worth it. Having him excitedly bound outside to play with a friend instead of me having to convince him that he should go will be worth it. It will be worth it if I can go through the day without feeling helpless as he freaks out; and if my husband doesn't have to try his hardest to barely hold in his frustration at a kid who is terrified of the unknown.
Please let it be worth it.
We start on Thursday.