Today has been one of those days when Daughter has been at her most frustrating. This morning I took her in for blood work, and then we went out to breakfast. We had a long negotiating process about what she'd have for breakfast. She kept telling me she didn't feel good, but she tells me that much of the time. My rule is that unless her blood sugar is seriously out of whack, she has a fever, or I see her vomit, I don't get too worried about it.
As we're eating, she suddenly got a stricken look on her face and jumped up. "Are you okay?"
"I think I'm going to be sick."
With that, she rushed off to the bathroom. I sat there, contemplating how I should respond to this. I wasn't going to follow immediately, but I was deciding how long before I'd go check on her. I didn't have time to decide before she was back. "Are you okay?"
"I thought I was going to be sick, but it was just a big belch." As she told me this, she immediately began to dig into her sausage and hash browns.
"If you're stomach is bothering you, I'd suggest you leave the greasy stuff and focus on your toast."
She ignored me and continued to eat the greasy stuff.
We then went to the pharmacy and the grocery store. In the grocery store, she expressed a desire for cinnamon bread for breakfast. I asked her if she could stay out of it and only eat it at breakfast. She assured me she could, so I bought a loaf of it.
On the way home, I outlined what I wanted us to work on today. I told her I'd let her choose where we started: with filling the pill boxes or with the kitchen, where I wanted to do some cleaning and make sausage balls (we have a huge open house in early December, and we need to start getting things prepared and in the freezer). I explained there were some things that were causing stress, and they were priorities. We got home, and she didn't want to do either. She wanted to work on the guest/craft room (in looking for something, she had emptied all the shelves, leaving everything all over the floor). I told her that was fine, but I would be checking to make sure she was making progress. We went upstairs and I told her where I wanted her to start. I also went into the TV room and grabbed the remote.
I wasn't downstairs very long before she showed up in the kitchen, where I was cleaning. "Where do you want me to start?" I pointed at the clean pots and pans stacked in the sink. She stormed out. When I went searching for her, she was asleep on my bed. (She's trashed her bedroom again, so couldn't easily pout on her bed.)
So I kept busy cleaning, making sausage balls, and doing laundry. After 2 hours, I insisted Daughter get up. I dragged her over to the church. We did some work on a display for tomorrow. I came home to get something, and the dryer was buzzing. When I got back to the church, I asked Daughter if it would be safe for her to go home and take care of the laundry without me. She assured me she could.
When I got home, she had not only taken care of the laundry, she had emptied the pantry and was organizing it. That was not on my list of priorities for the day, and she knew it. In fact she acknowledged that she wasn't doing any of the things on the stress list. Yes, the pantry needs to be reorganized, but that wasn't on my list for today. I have to give her credit for finishing it.
After supper I pointed out her room needed attention. She stormed out of the house, then came home and moved the junk she had on her bed onto her desk. I decided not to push the issue.
We went down to fill pill boxes (her meds and some of her diabetes supplies are pictured above). We started with filling my side of the boxes, and as we started on hers, she began to talk. She finally told me why she's been sleeping on my floor. Not only is she anxious and having difficulty sleeping, she's seeing things in the shadows and hearing voices again. There are the usual instructions to kill me and various other people, but this time the urge is very strong to start cutting herself. I'll call Psychiatrist first thing Monday morning.
I wish I knew if this was real. She could really be hearing voices, or she could be using that to explain her behavior and express the reality that she is in pain. She wanted me to call tonight, but I knew if I called tonight, they'd want me to bring her in and she'd be admitted. I'd prefer to avoid another hospitalization, if at all possible. We only filled her Sunday and Monday box, as I suspect there will be changes in her meds after I talk to Psychiatrist. Too many times I've had to dig through her pill boxes to switch out the pills after a med change. This time I'm hoping to make the change a little easier.
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