PSA - Avian Veterinary Care

In response to Farewell, Sir Spudly, an anonymous commenter wrote:

Did you have his death investigated because you wanted to make sure you could not blame Danielle for his death?

I replied:

Whenever a bird dies, especially in a multi-bird household, it's always a wise precaution to ask for a necropsy. This ensures that if the bird died of something contagious, the others can be properly protected. In this case, even though we were 90% sure Sir Spudly had died of a heart condition, we still wanted to make sure that there weren't other unknown pathogens that might have contributed to his passing.

We never suspected Danielle had done anything nefarious or contributed to his death in any way.

This post isn't going to focus on my usual topics relating to foster care or adoptive parenting.  This post is really going to be more of a public service announcement regarding avian veterinary care.

The perception seems to be that birds are "cheap" pets, and that they don't need much in terms of veterinary care.  Just this morning, I found an article on Bankrate.com that claimed the average veterinary costs for a bird amount to $9 a year.

I cry baloney.  I have never spent as little as $9 a year on a bird.  I regularly spend a lot more.  Hundreds more, in fact.

If you are going to take good care of a bird, you'll bring him to the vet at least once a year, just like you would your dog or cat.  Your bird should have regular medical care, just like any person or critter living in your family,  Your bird needs to be seen by a qualified avian vet, who has specialized experience in caring for birds.  Their biology and physiology is different enough from mammals that their care providers need a different skill set and training.

Just like regular vets, avian vets cost money.  If you are going to have a bird in your home, this expense goes with the territory.  In fact, this is probably more true for birds, because they tend to hide illness when they aren't feeling well.  You might not notice your bird is feeling unwell, but your vet might discover there's a problem.

Birds are not cheap pets by any stretch of the imagination.  Even if you are lucky enough to find an affordable vet, the cost of food, cages and toys can run quite a bit more, especially for a larger bird.  A happy, busy bird (especially a parrot) will destroy his toys, so they have to be replaced, regularly.

If you have started out with an inexpensive bird, such as a cockatiel or parakeet, over the course of his life you could spend many hundreds (or even thousands) more in veterinary care, supplies and food than you originally paid for him.

That is if you want to take exceptional care of him. 

It seems quite a few bird owners (especially those who have the smaller, "cheaper" birds) never bother with veterinary care.  If a bird gets sick, people often decide that it's cheaper to replace him than it is to go to the vet.

Sad, but true.

Every bird that has come into our home received a full medical workup right away.  We even did workups on Beeper and Bitey, even though they were tiny, "cheap" birds that we could have replaced for less than the cost of the medical workup.  We did this to ensure not only their health, but also the health of our existing birds.  We wanted to make sure that we didn't unknowingly bring disease into our previously-healthy flock.

Each time a bird has passed, we've asked for a necropsy.  We've done this, not only to ensure the health of our surviving birds, but also to make sure that we didn't do anything wrong.  Since it is very common for seemingly-healthy birds to die for what appears to be no reason, it's always good to know what went wrong.

Going back to Anonymous' question for a moment, we never suspected Danielle of foul play in any of our birds' deaths.  Beeper died in my hands in the middle of the night, Bitey died when Danielle wasn't even home, and Sir Spudly passed quietly overnight in his sleeping cage, which is kept in our locked bedroom.  There was no way Danielle could have done anything bad immediately before our birds died.  We ordered the necropsies, not because of suspicions of wrongdoing, but simply because we wanted to know what had happened.

Despite the myriad times that Danielle has threatened to kill our birds, she hasn't actually done so.  Now she has tried to hit Chicken, who fortunately got away, but she's never actually caused any physical harm to our feathered buddies.  I wish I could say the same for the emotional health of our birds.  Danielle's rages have been incredibly upsetting to all of them.

Of course the truth is that we don't give Danielle the chance to hurt one of our feathered friends.  She's never left alone in the house, or left unsupervised with the birds, so the chances of her hurting a member of our flock are reduced.  Granted, it doesn't completely eliminate the possibility of her hurting a bird, but it does make it a lot harder.

The truth is, Danielle has difficult relationships with our birds, just like she has difficult relationships with all of the people in her life.  It seems she has a love/hate relationship with everyone, even her friends.  Since the birds aren't large enough to completely protect themselves against potential threats, we simply make sure that Danielle's interactions with them are always supervised.  This means that the birds are safer, Danielle is safer, and we have a lot less to worry about.

Farewell, Sir Spudly

Regular readers might have noticed that my blog has been silent for more than a week.

I haven't written, because I haven't known what to say.  We are grieving.  Last Monday, the day before Valentine's Day, we found our dear African Grey parrot, Sir Spudly, dead on the floor of his sleeping cage.  He was 34 years old.

My heart is still broken.  He was my friend, my confidant, and sometimes even my defender.

His intelligence, his sensitivity, and his wisdom never failed to amaze me.

I can remember several times when Danielle had treated me badly, and he'd wait until the end of the day to peck out his petty avian revenge against her.  He would puff up his feathers, and call to Danielle sweetly.  "Come here," he'd say in his most charming voice.  When she reached into the cage to pick him up, he would pay her back by giving her her a nasty pinch on the finger and yelling, "Bad girl!"

It always amazed me when he did this.  The fact that a bird could piece together the understanding that my child was mistreating me, and respond by devising a carefully executed plan of revenge many hours later, was absolutely stunning.

I think the truth is that Dr. Pepperberg has only scratched the surface in terms of the cognitive abilities of these animals.

When Spudly came to live with us nine years ago, he was already 25 years old.  He had been through a series of homes, some good, some bad, some in the middle.  He had been living in a small, grubby cage, and fed a diet that seemed to mostly consist of old, stale sunflower seeds.  When we brought him home, his former owner gave us a five-gallon bucket filled with seeds that were so old, most wouldn't even sprout.  Even though his living conditions weren't ideal, he grieved for his former home, and he gave both FosterEema and I some unpleasant bites.

With time, he grew to love us.  He was my bird.  Although he did accept handling from Danielle and FosterEema, it was me that he wanted.  I was the only person who could rub his ears just the way he liked, and he would sometimes sit on my lap for hours while I rubbed them.

When he wanted me, he would call me by name.  He rarely used my real name, preferring to call me by the name of his previous preferred person.  I didn't mind.  I was proud and I felt honored that he had chosen a name for me.  He didn't call anyone else in our home by name.  If he wanted them, he would look at them and say, "come here."

His passing wasn't a complete surprise.  Some time ago, at his last veterinary visit, the doctor noticed that he had developed a heart murmur.  The vet said there was nothing that could be done for him, and he'd just keep going until he stopped.

And stop he did, in a sudden way.  He had seemed fine the night before, playing on the loveseat with Danielle and eating walnuts.

Our birds sleep just a few feet away from our bed.  When Spudly passed, it was quick and silent.  Birds do not always go quietly when they die.  Our cockatiel Beeper, who died several years ago from a kidney tumor, went squawking and screaming in fright, not wanting to leave this world.  This was not the case for Spudly.  One minute he was alive, sleeping peacefully in his cage.  The next, he was flying to the rainbow bridge after what we thought was a sudden cardiac event.

Just to be sure, we asked the vet to perform a necropsy.  She confirmed what we already suspected.  His failing heart had finally stopped.  There was nothing we could have done, she told us, to save him or to prevent what happened. He died so suddenly that he didn't know what hit him.  He didn't have the opportunity for fright or struggle. 

Knowing that there was nothing to be done, and that he didn't suffer was a small consolation.

Now the house seems eerily silent.  I had grown used to Spudly saying "bye-bye!" when we left, and greeting us with "hello" or a cheerful whistle when we returned.  Although we have other birds, neither Chicken nor Moonie have the amazing verbal abilities that Sir Spudly had.  His absence is palpable, like the silence that occurs in a house after the power has gone out.

There aren't words to describe the feelings of loss that I am experiencing right now.  Sir Spudly was absolutely unique.  His age, his genetics, and his life experiences made him a one-of-a-kind friend. He wasn't just another bird, he was a unique personality, with intelligence, self-awareness, and sense of humor.

Although I was profoundly sad when my one and only dog died, this loss feels much, much worse.  Spudly wasn't just a pet, he was a friend. He was a sentient being, with a mind, thoughts and feelings that were entirely his own.

Our surviving birds, Chicken and Moonie, have been upset by Spudly's passing.  Chicken was allowed to briefly see his remains, because I thought it was the best way to explain to her what had happened.  Although Chicken seems to have an amazing comprehension of English, I wanted to make sure she knew he had died, and hadn't just disappeared under mysterious circumstances.  She witnessed Beeper's passing as well, and although the circumstances were distressing, I think knowing what had happened made the transition easier for her.  Birds do grieve the loss of flock mates, and it will be a while before they adjust to the new normal of the house.

Danielle's reaction to Spudly's passing has surprised me.  She cried when she learned he was gone.  I was stunned, because she didn't shed a single tear for Beeper, even though she was by far our friendliest bird.  She barely cried for Bitey, even though Bitey was her bird.  She wept copiously for Sir Spudly, even though she constantly complained about him, and they had a relationship that wasn't always amicable.  The truth was, he probably nipped at her more than he cuddled with her.

It seems odd that she would cry so much for a bird she claimed to hate, while she barely shed a tear for the ones she purported to love.

The morning Sir Spudly died, it rained.  I thought that it was fitting that the heavens wept along with our family.  Later, when the sun began to peek through the clouds, I knew that somewhere, the inevitable rainbow had formed. I imagined my old friend flying higher, and higher towards that rainbow in the sky.  I silently hoped that the story of the Rainbow Bridge is true, and that one day, we'll meet again.

Fly free, Sir Spudly, we miss you terribly.

Herding Cats

Something that's been bandied around at my house for years is the following phrase:

Doing x is like herding cats.  It's rarely successful and it annoys the cats.

This saying came to mind earlier this week when Danielle unsuccessfully tried to pet the neighbor's cat.

Our next door neighbor has this absolutely wonderful kitty that lives in our yard.  I feel sorry for her, because she's the sweetest thing, and often tries to sneak into our house when the door is open.  I'd let her in, but FosterEema is deathly allergic.  We never leave food out, knowing where she belongs, but when we are coming or going, I'll often call her over, and give her a scratch.  She responds by bonking her head into my hand, and purring furiously.

The cat has a name, but I almost never call her by her given name.  Instead, I call her Miss Kitty.  She comes just as well to my name as she does to her real one.

For whatever reason, Miss Kitty seems to prefer our yard to her own.  I frequently find her sunning herself on the lawn.  Sometimes, she's in the back yard, other times, she's in the front.  Almost every morning, I hear little kitty feet scampering across our roof.  She walks along the top of the fence between the houses, and leaps onto my garage roof.  She leaves her little kitty paw prints on my cars when they need washing, and pretends to hunt gophers in my yard.

Once, she got trapped in my garage overnight, because she was a little too curious and opted to do some investigating.  I unknowingly locked her in there, after I'd finished my outdoor chores and pulled the garage door shut.

We found her a day later, when the concerned owner's daughter came looking for her.  I hadn't seen the cat in at least a day, but then remembered I'd heard some yowling in the middle of the night.  I opened my garage, and Miss Kitty flew out like her tail was on fire.

Since then, she's opted to stay out of my garage.  It is probably a good thing, as I have an old car stored in there, and it would suck if she jumped in through the window and peed inside.  (Cats have a tendency to pee in cars, I've noticed.  A neighbor's tom cat jumped in the window of my mother's car once and sprayed the dashboard.  In the days before FosterEema, I had an angry cat pee in his carrier, which then leaked out onto the upholstery of then-truck.)

I don't mind Miss Kitty hanging out in my yard.  She isn't a nuisance, though the neighbors reported that the previous owners of my house used to complain bitterly about her.

I don't care.  She's a nice cat, and minds her kitty business.  I only wish she would actually catch the gophers she pretends to hunt.

Earlier this week, Miss Kitty was outside sunning herself on my front lawn, in one of her usual spots.  We were on our way out the door somewhere, and Danielle tried to call Miss Kitty over for some lovin'.

Miss Kitty wasn't having it.

Now in Miss Kitty's defense, Danielle had been having an extremely bad week.  We'd seen lots of yelling, temper tantrums, and emotional instability.  Even though Danielle wasn't having a tantrum at that precise moment, I'm sure Miss Kitty sensed Danielle's unstable internal emotional state and refused to come over.

Our birds do the same thing.  When Danielle is unstable, they won't go near her.  If she forces them, she gets pinched for her trouble, or they will attempt to escape at the earliest possible moment.

Animals know.

So no amount of coaxing that day would convince Miss Kitty to agree to visit Danielle.  Instead of accepting the animal's refusal, she became angry.  Her eyes blazed.  I could tell she was furious.

"Fine, be that way!" she shrieked at the cat, as I asked her to get into the car.

As we drove to our destination, I told Danielle that I understood her disappointment, but that her lack of respect wasn't appropriate.  "Just because you want something, doesn't mean the people and the animals around you are obliged to give it to you." I explained.  "Speaking to Miss Kitty that way was hugely disrespectful."

Danielle sulked.  She seemed to think that Miss Kitty didn't deserve respect because she was only a cat.

I didn't say much more after that.  I just aimed the car towards our destination and shook my head. I was shocked at how angry she became simply because a cat didn't want a petting.

No Contact, for Now

After meeting with Danielle's therapist and discussing our concerns about additional birth family contact, we've decided that we are not going to allow it, at least for now.

It possible that Danielle may resent us if she later learns that we denied her access to her birth family.  It is also true that if we allow it now, she will act out, and possibly even explode.

So we are faced with a difficult choice. We must decide whether we want to deal with ugliness and resentment now, or whether we want to deal with ugliness and resentment later.

After carefully weighing our options with the therapist, we have decided to choose ugliness and resentment later.

Granted, we are already seeing immense levels of verbal abuse, arguing, refusals and threats of physical violence these days.  The verbal abuse and arguing is constant.  Even when we walk out of the room, or simply ignore her, Danielle will carry on endlessly.  She will shout insults through the house, even after we've walked away and focused on something else.  She refuses to participate in family activities, whether they be meals, chores, or whatever, on an almost-daily basis.  She threatens violence several times a week.

Even our therapist could barely hide her frustration when Danielle insisted on arguing over trivia during our most recent session.

So the truth is, even though things are already terrible, we have no incentive to want to make things worse than they already are.

A reader pointed out in a private note to me that if members of my family were substance abusers or involved with criminal activity, I would be expected to block those people from my child's life.  If I didn't, authorities would look at me askance and accuse me of failing to protect my child.  Yet, somehow in the adoption world, visits from similarly-affected biological family members should be automatically permitted. 

If I wouldn't let one of my family members, a friend, or a stranger be with my kid if I knew they were substance abusers or involved in criminal activity, then why on G-d's green earth should I allow contact from this group of biological family members?

Sure, we can debate for days and days about a child's need for contact with her family of origin, but at the end of the day, we have to consider the immediate effect of those letters, visits, and phone calls.

In the short-term, I don't see anything good coming from it.

So for now, no contact.

Even if Danielle's missing family members didn't have the problems of substance abuse and criminal activity, I'm not sure that she's really in an emotional space to deal with something this large right now.  At the moment, her temper flares at the slightest provocation.  Over the past ten days, much of what has upset her has seemed pretty minor, trivial, and senseless.

Here are just a few examples:

• She had a temper tantrum over the timing of her doctor's appointment, even though we didn't have much in the way of control over the schedule.  
• She became furious that I didn't agree with her fashion sense.  
• On a recent trip to the grocery store, she got angry because she believed some girls on the street were staring at her.  Strangely, the teen girls were standing on the corner waiting for the traffic light to change, while Danielle and FosterEema were driving by in the car. "Why are those bitches staring at me?" she demanded.

If Danielle can't handle people passing by on the street, minor disagreements over trivia, or just the regular inconveniences of life, I don't think she's ready to handle something as important as having contact with people she hasn't heard from in more than a year. If she isn't capable of making it though a single day without some sort of angry outburst, she is not in a position of emotional stability or maturity to handling something like this right now.

One of my commenters suggested that we might want to ask Danielle whether or not she's ready for such a reunion.

At least for now, I think this is a bad idea for two reasons.  First, as I've already said above, I don't think Danielle  has the emotional regulation to deal with this right now.  Second, I am not sure that she is capable of making decisions that serve in her own best interest.  It seems right now that she's focused on doing things that are completely contrary to her own interests, in the hopes of waging some sort of war against us.  She's behaved unsafely in the car, and she's acted out, which she knew in advance would cost her things like her MP3 player or visits with friends.  She's gone out of her way to irritate us and everyone around her, only to be surprised when her victims don't want to give her the things that she wants.

The therapist put it rather succinctly in our most recent session.  "You aren't doing much to argue your cause," she told Danielle.

Sure, Danielle is arguing everything.  She's just not doing it a way that makes anyone willing to concede to her demands.

Given all of this, it seems only prudent that we say no to additional birth family contact, at least for right now.

Is Birth Family Contact in Danielle's Best Interest?

After more than a year of zero contact, with the exception of one letter that arrived a couple of weeks ago, some members of Danielle's birth family want to have contact with her again.  According to a half-sibling who has spoken to them, they want to give Danielle a scolding for "messing up."

Apparently, the half-sibling has been sharing some of our conversations with the rest of the birth family.

I'm of two minds on this.  On the one hand, if Danielle hears from yet another source that her behavior is unacceptable, maybe she'll change it up.  On the other hand, it seems that any contact from her birth family tends to make her behavior substantially worse.

Honestly, I'm not sure that yet another lecture about her behavior will do any good.  Plenty of people have talked to her about it.  We've talked to her, our extended family members have talked to her.  Teachers, therapists, school psychologists, social workers, behavioral aids, her half-sibling and her friends have all talked to her.

I think we are beyond the point that talking will fix anything.

I've never contemplated blocking contact from Danielle's birth family until now.  Whenever they have come, we've allowed the poorly-timed letters, and phone calls.  We allow regular visits, even though they are inconvenient and end up happening at our expense, with a family member who lives nearby.  We even allowed a visit, when out-of-state family members showed up in town, with no advance warning, and we had conflicting plans.

Each letter, phone call and visit has caused Danielle to spiral into a new level of ugliness, disrespect, and violence towards us.

But now, I wonder if perhaps it's time to put a stop to it.

I don't feel good about contemplating this.  I don't feel right in denying her contact with her birth family.  Still, when Danielle amps up the dreadful behavior for days, weeks and sometimes even months after contact, I have to ask, is this really good for her?

I know that it's not good for us, because we deal with the fallout.  We deal with the explosions, the disrespect, and the violence for long after the birth family has satisfied their desires.

Is birth family contact in Danielle's best interest?

I don't know. 

It sure seems like it isn't.  Obviously, this is something we'll take up with our therapist as well.

Ditching and Failing

This afternoon, FosterEema checked the school's attendance and grading system.

Danielle's attendance record is showing at least one unexplained absence.  She told us that her homeroom teacher had asked her to stay late, so she missed one of her elective classes.  Her homeroom teacher was supposed to clear that same day, but obviously that didn't happen.

The school's attendance system called us to advise us of the absence, and it still remains in the computer, despite Danielle's assurances that the absence was legitimate.

* * *

Danielle's grades, at least in her elective classes, are lousy.  She's showing a C minus in two of her classes and is failing the third.  I know she is capable of doing better, but it seems that she hasn't been turning in all her assignments.

The class she is failing?

Conflict Management

* * *

When Danielle came home from school this afternoon, she told us that she took the first half of our state's high school exit exam.  Every student must pass this test in order to graduate with a diploma.  Special Education students who are unable to pass the exam receive a certificate of completion instead.

Danielle felt confident that she had passed.  When we asked her about the types of questions on the test, however, her answers were so vague that it made me wonder if she really understood the work that was being asked of her.  She mentioned there were sections of the test that she didn't understand, even after the teacher explained them.

As recently as last year, Danielle scored at "far below proficiency" when she took the state-mandated standardized academic tests. Since I don't think the high school exit exam is any easier than the test she took last year, I don't share her optimism.

I hope she passed.  The realist in me fears that she did not.

Unsafe on the Road

This weekend, we went and visited my mother.  Although the visit was mostly pleasant, Danielle started acting up when it was time to go.  She was being insulting and rude, because I'd dared disagree with her over an item of fashion.

My mother, who usually remains silent no matter how dreadful Danielle becomes, called her on her behavior. She was none too nice about it, and in the end demanded, "Is this behavior really necessary?"

Danielle admitted that it was not, but then rolled her eyes and made ugly faces as she headed out the door.

My mother called her on that, too.  Even though she was angry at Danielle, she still gave her a hug as we left.

On the way home, Danielle behaved unsafely in the car, and experienced a natural consequence of that behavior.

Fortunately, nobody got hurt.  It is a darn good thing that we enabled the rear-door child safety locks on our car a few weeks ago.

Next Time, Knife?

Wednesday afternoon and evening, Danielle had what I guess what could be called a "mild" temper tantrum, because she didn't like the scheduling of her doctor's appointment the following day.

I'm not going to bother detailing a blow-by-blow account, because it consisted of the same old routine of arguing, name-calling, and accusing us of various crimes that we've committed only in her mind.

But she did ask me a question that was pretty disturbing.

When I told her I didn't like her behavior, she responded with a veiled threat.

"Oh, so next time would you like me to stab you with a knife, instead?" she demanded.

Last night, FosterEema took Danielle to her weekly meeting with her therapist, and she shared Danielle's remarks.

The therapist remains concerned about the safety in our home.

I am frustrated.

If we have a kid who is threatening harm to self and others on a weekly basis, whose behavior has her parents, teacher, doctor, therapist and school officials all concerned, why is it that the powers-that-be won't hospitalize her?

It doesn't make any sense to me.

The New Doctor - Part II

Today, we all went to meet Danielle's new doctor.

This was, of course, after a mild temper tantrum last night where Danielle expressed considerable anger over the scheduling of the appointment.  In her mind, we had deliberately picked a time that was inconvenient for her, and we didn't care how these appointments impacted her schedule.

The truth was, the clinic offered an appointment, and we took it.  We were trying to get the kid in as soon as possible.

So we went to the clinic and waited for nearly an hour to be seen.  When we finally got in, though, the doctor seemed very nice.  Truly, she is a breath of fresh air.

So we sat in the exam room and discussed what has been going on.  The doctor seemed really shocked when we told her that Danielle has been physically abusing us for the past three years.  When we finished, the doctor turned to the kid.

"Is this true?" she asked.

Danielle shrugged sheepishly.  "I guess," she mumbled.

We spoke for a few minutes, and then the doctor met with Danielle privately.  When she was finished, she called us back in to the exam room.

She agreed it was important Danielle be seen by a psychiatrist as soon as possible.

She instructed us to get back in touch with the county mental health people, and wrote the following on  a prescription:

[Danielle] would significantly benefit from obtaining psychiatric care and evaluation as soon as possible.  If I can assist, please notify me. [phone number]

We will be taking a copy of this note to her therapist tonight, and we'll also contact the county mental health office as well.

Here's to hoping this moves us in the right direction.

Empathy for Bad Choices

My heart is going out to Claudia and her family today.  Her son did a terrible and foolish thing, and will no doubt pay some serious consequences for what he did.

She wrote an incredibly poignant post about these events.  This morning, she wrote:

When we look from the outside in at newspaper articles, at news programs on TV, at jail rosters we have feelings that range from disgust to anger at these "losers" who are ruining our society. We can wish for serious legal consequences, not thinking about how they got where they are or how well they might have been doing.

But more than ever before I'm realizing that behind each of those faces on the jail roster website there is more than likely a mother, or other person, who loves them -- or at one point did before it got too difficult to bear. There may be years of neglect and abuse as children where society failed to protect them. They might be people who are homeless and mentally ill who can't get services because we as a society (and dare I say as a church) are failing them.

My wife and I worry that we too may be in the very same situation with our child one day.

Our kid has done some pretty dangerous and impulsive things in the past.  Do I believe that she could do something that would cross the line into serious criminal behavior?

Yes, absolutely.

This isn't a value judgment on whether my kid is "good" or "bad."  It's simply recognition of the fact that she is impulsive and explosive.  That combination often ends with her making bad choices that she later regrets.  So far, the worst she's done is threaten me with scissors and kick a boy in the groin.  Could she escalate from there?

I think so.

Three years ago, she was just threatening to hit.  She has since started hitting, kicking, biting, spitting and throwing things.  She's damaged property and she's bruised and scratched us, even drawing blood.  Now that she's threatened with weapons, do I think she could go further?

If her pattern of escalating violence continues, I think she could, and that really scares me.  I'm frightened of the life-long negative consequences she could give herself.

Claudia is right in saying that our society is failing these people.  It's absolutely true.  When our child welfare system doesn't intervene, or intervenes too late, the damage has already been done.  The system creates generation after generation of children who grow to be adults who can't, or won't make good decisions for themselves.

It's incredibly sad because we as parents can do the best job we know how to do, and it's still not always enough.  We can't stop our kids from making terrible decisions that are made because their brains don't work right.

Society, rightly or wrongly, expects people to behave to a certain standard, and when our kids do not, they find themselves in trouble, and the world looks upon them as bad people with uncaring parents.

We care!

It's just that caring, sometimes, isn't enough.

I'm just so very, very sad for Claudia and her family right now.  They are in my heart and my thoughts.

The New Doctor - Part I

As I mentioned a few days ago, we finally fired Danielle's pediatrician.

This morning, we verified that her case had been reassigned, and we called her new doctor.  We asked for an appointment, explaining that we wanted to discuss whether a medication adjustment or perhaps a referral to a psychiatrist would be warranted, given our daughter's recent violence at home and at school.

I was expecting that we'd have to wait at least a couple of weeks, if not longer, for an appointment.

We were amazed when FosterEema called, because the new clinic was able to get us right in.

Danielle has an appointment tomorrow.

Crisis Management

It seems like, for the past few weeks, we've been jumping from crisis to crisis.  Danielle has exploded at home and at school, we've been struggling with finding the right help, we had to fire our pediatrician, and we've had to deal with biological family emergencies.

Yesterday, we spent a good chunk of the day resolving some major financial drama.  A small fraudulent transaction which started on an online music retailer's site ended up sucking money out of a popular online payment service's account, which in turn slurped cash out of one of our business'  accounts.  The day ended up largely wasted while we called and e-mailed different companies.  Finally, to prevent any more money from disappearing, we closed the affected checking account.

Ugh, drama.

It wasn't a lot of money, but obviously once the fraud was discovered we had to do something to prevent it from cascading into pure chaos.  In the end, I think we'll get everything back, because we discovered and reported the problem right away.

I'm not sure why so much drama keeps heading our way, but this morning I was nearly sucked into another situation.  This time, I was tapped by an acquaintance to help with a mess she could have  completely avoided, if she'd only listened to a service provider and scheduled an appointment for a mutually convenient time.

What is it with people?  Why is it they insist on making choices that lead to completely artificial emergencies?

I want to scream out to the universe, "Look before you leap, people!"

I ended up mostly declining to involve myself in my acquaintance's drama. I had been asked to do something that I can do, but don't feel comfortable doing, during a time that conflicted with today's work schedule.  I declined, but did make a few phone calls on my friend's behalf, though it didn't result in the help she needed.  She needed to reschedule her plans, and she didn't.

Now I'm not without heart.  I felt crappy when I said "no" to Danielle's birth family member and I felt crappy when I said "no" to my acquaintance.  I am willing to help people within reasonable limits, but I also feel like it's important to maintain some healthy boundaries.

Loaning out money to near strangers, or walking out on my job on short-notice for a few hours don't seem reasonable when both of these crises could have been completely avoided with just a little bit of planning.

I know the decisions I made in both of these situations were the right ones, but I still feel kind of crummy.  The truth is, I can't be all things to all people.  Even during easy times in my life I can't say "yes" to every request that's made of me.

But now, when I feel like I am jumping from crisis to crisis within my own family, I don't have the energy to get sucked into other people's drama.  Right now, I feel like I am swimming as hard as I can to keep my own head above water, and I can tell that my life-jacket is starting to become waterlogged.

I do care about the world and other people, but when I'm drowning, I don't know how I can help anyone else.

Answer: We Don't Lend Money to Birth Family

As I'm sure you gathered from Sunday's question, we were asked to loan one of Danielle's birth family members some money.

We said no.

Even before all the comments came in giving me good reasons to support that answer, I had considered quite a few on my own:

• We had loaned this person a much smaller amount of money in the past, and it was never repaid.
• I didn't want to set up a precedent establishing us as the bank of Abba v'Eema.
• We didn't want to get sucked into what was surely going to be a bunch of early morning drama.

Even though there were plenty of good reasons for no, I have to admit to feeling pretty crappy about it.  The details we were told Sunday morning were somewhat hazy, and it sounded like this birth family member had really been stranded, and had gotten into a bad situation as a result.  As the story was told to us, the person in question was facing a pretty horrible consequence, all for a lack of planning aforethought and a relatively small (though not insignificant) number of dollars.

I felt like a real skunk.

Later Sunday night, we heard from Danielle's family member, and it seems everything turned out okay. The immediate need for the money has been deferred a few days, so this person will be able to cover the bill.  As long as the money is paid by this deadline, nothing terrible will happen.

So the situation resolved itself in a way that didn't require our wallet.  That made me happy.

Once we heard more of what lead up to the crisis, it made me even happier that we hadn't decided to proceed with the loan.  Initially, it sounded like a situation created by poor planning and being left stranded by a friend.  After hearing more details, we realized that the situation was both of those things, but was a result of a plan that shouldn't have been executed in the first place.

Now the story we've been told reminds me a lot of the things Danielle tells us.  The plot twists and turns, the details change, and we are left confused and with more questions than we had in the beginning.  It feels like the foundation of the tale is built upon the shifting sands of the Sahara Desert.  In the end, we don't know if we have the truth or not, though it probably doesn't matter.

This video clip from the movie Meet the Robinsons pretty well sums up the situation in its entirety:



Sigh.

What makes this situation feel a lot more complicated is the fact that the person involved isn't an older relative who should know better.  This person is a young adult who has gone through most, if not all, of the negative experiences Danielle has.  Unfortunately, this person was bounced through the foster care system, and has received every disadvantage that could possibly come from it.  Unlike Danielle, this relative wasn't "lucky" enough to find a "forever family."

Now I put the words "lucky" and "forever family" in quotes, because I don't believe that kids are lucky when they are adopted.  Neither do I believe that an adopted family is necessarily a forever family, because the phrase completely discounts the existence of the birth family, and it isn't always true.  If a child is adopted and returns of her own volition to her biological family, was the adoptive family a forever family?  I'd argue not.

But I digress.  The real issue that makes this so difficult is being in the strange position of being parents to one child, but not to another.  It's very odd to be parents to one kid, who is closely related to a young adult, but having had no input into the care, custody, or control of that young adult.

So we find ourselves in the odd position of being related, yet not, to someone who we don't really know.  It's clear they could use some help, but we have no legal or emotional ties.  We don't want our child to witness this person's imploding life, but we don't feel comfortable providing financial aid or housing to someone who isn't really part of our family.

We care, but it just feels complicated.

I've of course asked myself the question, "would I help my niece, nephew or child in a similar circumstance?"  The answer is probably not, because the entire situation could have been avoided with a little planning ahead.

Maybe the real answer is that the situation needed to unfold as it did to be a lesson in natural consequences.  It certainly provides a strong lesson in, if you don't plan ahead and you don't have a solid backup plan, then bad things most certainly will happen.

I hate to watch someone fall on their face.  I also realize that it is important to have boundaries, and just because someone asks me to loan them money to get out of a jam, doesn't mean it is a good idea.

Even so, it didn't entirely stop me from feeling bad.

Question: Do You Lend Money to Your Child's Birth Family?

If you were faced with the following hypothetical situation, what would you do?

It is early in the morning.  Your telephone rings, rousing you from a deep sleep.  It is a member of your child's birth family calling.  This person has made a mistake, a really stupid error in judgment, largely due to extremely poor planning.  They are now faced with the possibility of a very unpleasant and negative consequence.  The person is frantic, hysterical, and in tears.  You are begged for what is a relatively small, but not insignificant, amount of money to make the problem go away.

What do you do?  Do you get dressed, get in your car, and buy your child's family member out of trouble?

Would it make a difference if you had loaned this person a small amount money in the past and they failed to pay you back?

Would your answer be any different if you knew that the dollar amount involved now was at least six times higher than it would have been if they had called you at the beginning of the trouble, instead of waiting until the very end of the crisis?

We Fired the Pediatrician

A lot has happened since Danielle's most recent explosions at home and at school,  A lot of it, I'm not going to share publicly, because it's complicated and messy, and for the entire story to make sense, we'd have to share a lot of personally identifying information, which I am not prepared to do at this point.  What I will say is that it has involved talking to a lot of people, including school staff, therapists, law enforcement, the crisis hotline, Danielle's pediatrician and even an attorney.

They all say the same thing.  They all give us a list of what we (and they) can't do.  The list is very long and complicated, but if we break it down into its most basic components, it boils down to two things:

1. We can't get Danielle the help that she needs.
2. We can't give custody to someone else -- not to the county, not to another foster home, not even to another adoptive home.  We are stuck.

Everybody agrees that this situation is intolerable and unsafe.  They agree that nobody should have to live this way.  They agree that this isn't good for any of us.  Danielle's explosions are violent and dangerous; her behavior is completely unacceptable.

Yet, they all come back with pretty much the same answer:  There isn't much we can do.

Sure, some of the people we've talked to have agreed to help, but the help they can provide is very, very limited.  Danielle recently qualified for one-on-one therapy that will be provided, at school, by a licensed therapist.  That's great, but it's only for a single hour per week.

I feel like we are trying to sop up the ocean with a single sheet of paper towel.

Several of the mental health professionals we've talked with have been surprised by Danielle's relative lack of medication.  All have recommended that her doctor re-examine her pharmacological interventions.  We sent the pediatrician a formal request for a referral to a psychiatrist, and she responded by screaming at us.

Yes.  She called us up and screamed at us.

Even though we were warned by our current family therapist that firing our pediatrician would result in her counseling services being terminated, this was the last straw.  This was not the first time, or even the second time, that this doctor had unleashed a heap of verbal abuse upon us.  Once, she even screamed at us for taking Danielle to the ER when we thought she might have broken her foot.  Why was she so angry?  Apparently, we were supposed to obtain pre-authorization for an ER visit, which we hadn't done.  We weren't aware of this requirement, but the doctor felt it necessary to yell so loudly that hospital staff looked on with sympathy and rolled their eyes.

I hope the next pediatrician will be more helpful.  If not, perhaps I can at least hope that she won't scream at us for trying to get our kid the medical treatment she needs.

As for our current therapist, I hope that our change in pediatricians won't create an unfortunate cascade of events.  At this point, though, it's clear we need to try a different approach.  Our fired pediatrician had a reputation for being difficult, obstinate and disagreeable, but we were told she was a competent professional.  Our experience proved otherwise.  Her tendency to scream at us, combined with the fact that she would forget important details between visits and deny we'd ever discussed them, finally made us pull the plug.

Here's to hoping that the next doctor will be more willing to listen, and to help.

The GLBT Agenda

Last week, Christine over at Welcome to my Brain wrote a really great post about the GLBT agenda.  I've been meaning to draw attention to it for a week now, but haven't been able to because I've had a lot else going on.

In her post, she talks about making a stand for the rights of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered people.

Go read it.

Please.

http://www.welcometomybrain.net/2012/01/theater-of-absurd.html

It made me cry.

And the Story Changes Again

It is so frustrating, sometimes, to try and get information from Danielle.

She has told us three slightly different versions of the story:

1. The boy ratted her out.
2. Danielle confessed that she'd kicked the boy.
3. The boy ratted Danielle out during group.

At the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter how the situation came to the attention of her teacher.

Here's what we think happened:

1. The boy was annoying Danielle.
2. She claims she repeatedly asked him to stop.
3. He didn't stop.
4. Another student asked him to stop.
5. He didn't stop.
6. Danielle responded by kicking him, hard, in the groin.  This was, according to her teacher, not horseplay, but a real attempt to injure.
7. The boy revealed this in a group session.

Although I understand that group sessions need to remain confidential, I take issue with the school staff failing to contact us when violent behavior on the part of our child has been brought to their attention.

It is absolutely not my business when another child discusses his personal problems.  It is my business when another child accuses, and Danielle admits, that she has been violent.

Frustrating.

I have to admit to being more than a little concerned about the school's lack of communication.  It seems that each time there is an incident involving my kid at school, we usually don't hear from the school.  Instead, Danielle comes home with an angry and confusing tale, and we end up having to contact the school to try to piece together what really happened.

I Kicked a Boy

Monday morning, we got a call from Danielle's teacher.  She had received our e-mail regarding the kicking incident, and wanted to respond.

Apparently, things unfolded a little differently than the way our child described.  She actually confessed to the behavior during a group session, which is why the school hadn't notified us. Apparently, whatever is said in group, stays in group.

The teacher reported that staff didn't witness the violence, but did confirm that she'd told Danielle that if the behavior happens again, she'll face an unpleasant consequence.

As if the threat of a consequence has ever been enough to stop her in the past.

Inflammation (Updated)

Earlier this morning, Danielle went to the dentist to get her remaining cavities filled.  The appointment had to be rescheduled until next month.

Why?

The dentist noticed that her wisdom teeth incisions were extremely inflamed, and hadn't really started to heal.  Therefore, he decided that he really didn't want to go rooting around in her mouth with a drill at this point in time.

FosterEema explained that Danielle had refused to follow many of the oral surgeon's post-procedure instructions, and asked if that could be the cause of the inflammation.

Although the dentist didn't confirm with 100% certainty that her lack of self-care was the cause, he said he couldn't deny that it may have contributed to the problem.

When I heard this news, I just put my head down on my desk and sighed.

* * *

Updated to add:

When Danielle came home from school this afternoon I asked her about her dental appointment.  Apparently, her dentist gave her a bit of a scolding.

"Naughty, naughty!" Danielle reported the dentist had told her.

He clearly left her with the impression that she was the cause of her own misery.

She reported that he'd said, "You would have a lot less swelling and pain if you had followed [the oral surgeon's] instructions."

"I know," she replied.

When I heard this, I just put my head in my hands, shook my head and sighed.

The fact that Danielle won't follow instructions given by her medical care providers saddens me.  If she's not able or willing to follow directions, I think it's going to make her life a lot more difficult than it needs to be.

Whether or not Danielle's lack of follow-up care contributed to her extra swelling and pain is really immaterial.  The fact is, she defied her surgeon's instructions, and that's pretty troubling stuff.  Doctors don't issue follow-up care instructions because they are fun, they issue them because their education and experience has taught them that specific aftercare helps to speed healing and reduce pain.

Curious, I asked her the predictable question, "Why was it so important to you to go against what [the oral surgeon] told you?"

Her answer was equally predictable.  "I don't know," she replied.

Violent at School, Too

Danielle just told us that, unbeknownst to us, she has been violent at school. On Friday, she kicked a male student in the groin because he was annoying her.

This is not the first time she has done this, she reports, though it is the first time she has been ratted out.

I will be interested to know what the school has to say when we talk to them Monday.