update: finished every "step" before reaching fed the fuck up, then called the patient advocate that helped navigate the cf clinic (recap: constantly threatening incarceration until I got the patient advocate) - she doesn't live here anymore (of course, who does?) but at wits end, I called her, she made a few calls, an HOUR later the pissy little shit of a social worker called me and faxed the required fmla motherfucking forms (no proof of her actually doing that but said she did) and she talked to Ears FOR THE FIRST TIME. she's going on vaca Monday, so, doesn't much matter. he's okay, reading a lot, as of today getting motherfucking Ensure also suddenly. He still cannot get out. I still have no idea what the criteria is, the diagnoses, nothing. What they said to him was this was an "unual excelleration of care" as in you don't normally wind up in ecmc as a prisoner cz you tell your primary you wanna hang yourself with shoe laces despite access to both guns and rolls of electrical cord. Maybe a solid therapist referal woulda been good, eh? Or better yet, I shouldn't have told him to be expressive and honest. 

Sometimes less hitting home is more. Sadly for all of us who can articulate. This was one of those times.

So it'll start all over Monday w a new social worker who has to be also the discharge planner, she'll prolly sound just like the other one (overworked and resentful). Normally I wouldn't blame her. Normally I'd be helping credential community health workers with giant grants. Normally, there would be some semblance of nonshitty normal (?)

One call and something moves. It has nothing to do with Ears. Nothing. Today is the first time he has ever met his case worker despite all law of 72 or 72+72 whatever hours, under ANY circumstance, even if he were a homicidal maniac, he had a right to advocacy by now. No. Such. Thing. 

I should have taken him to the cottage that night, that would have calmed him down as much as the one night he needed from BestSelf and got thrown in jail instead.

He's fine. I bring him lunch every day. I can't visit twice so one scarfed meal. Sis and I shoulda divided it, lunch and dinner, but we were too exhausted to even think of it till today. But also now suddenly Ensure is in his diet, which makes him much less dazed deadish fishwhite starved seeming. 

He literally needed one safe night, sugar, and a THERAPIST. 

It takes a lot to find a therapist. His doc certainly don't give a shit enough to put in that effort etc, so I arranged his discharge receiving end plan to Evergreen (puck in front of the net) for them. Evergreen lady says, "this happens all the time, somebody asks for help voluntarily, and then they find they can't get out. That is what e c m c does." 

And the worst thing you can do is say you feel better, because they'll assume you're lying. And. You also can't leave until you feel better. Indefinitely. 

I just got to wonder how many thousands of dollars they're making a day off me by doing this. They won't tell me that either.

So the one phone call today somehow shook loose the elusive social worker who is no longer working as of Monday and informed me that no discharges happen on the weekend because there are no discharge planners on the weekend. Very odd cz you'd think they would need the beds. But maybe they don't want to be able to take any more. Ears is very easy company. And again, I normally wouldn't blame them. I would just make a case study out of it. 

But this is my kid. 

I think it'll be at least Monday. Maybe a week from Monday till I see that kid walking out that door and every day, thank God I have the privilege it takes to have lunch hour of my choosing and length every single day. 

His roommate, the one who cried all over his mother because she's some kinda lowlevel (prolly healthcare) 12 hour shift worker (ie can't get there every day), it's been 3 weeks, not one call not one word, nothing.  I got A call and only cz I had one string to pull. The waiting room sagas - if I were in the mood to really write anything - but I am really not in the mood to make this amusing. 

Ears doesn't read my blog. It doesn't matter if there is 💯 lack of trust expressed here.  

He gave us a list of things he wants out of the apartment and we'll go get them tomorrow, all except the big computer that'll go into storage w some boxes of books. I refuse to take any of his furniture or any of TJ's crap stored there, nope. Even the older kid has crap just left there on his hands. All of that, all if this, gonna get goned now. 

update: nothing has changed

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). As for the thing you weren't able to accomplish back there, it just wasn't time yet. Keep at it in whatever small way is currently possible, and more will be possible in the future. The key is simply knowing that this isn't over.

It feels interminably over. 

I just need my kid back.

Friday. A week. I didn't imagine 72 hours of voluntary could become involuntary and indefininate with no explanations and no justifications, no diagnosis, no therapy session. Just fear of asking for any of those things or the "punishment" will be longer. 

I should have imagined that and & trusted noone

They have successfully turned him into someone who will never admit to being anything other than fine to any seemingly nice healthcare anybody, or any anybody, ever again. They are turning him into a me. Always fine. And skinny beyond what a body should ever be. 

Friday. They're too lazy and dontgiveashit to sign any form on any day, so nobody is going to give a shit enough to let him out or step him down or do anything before they get to their weekend. 

Day by day by day, I get better at smiling my way past the security guard(s), handing Ears pens (sharp objects) to sign things, a hippa release today if I break into his email w his swiped phone successfully. And every day I witness to this utter bullshit, my heart fills with black tar. 

Been reading law. To keep him much longer, they should be getting a court order. They might be working on that, but I see little evidence that they give him much thought at all. Change wellbutrin to lexipro, impressive lifesaving technology. They had one "group" occupational therapy session, during which Ears said nothing. And they keep getting paid for a hospital stay. So. Today I get one more form signed so everybody can get eyes on everything. Then I am calling a patient advocate and my lawyer.

If these poor inmates had any kind of life before, had apartments and jobs and cars, that will be taken from them with nobody making sure their bills are paid and living arrangements made. When they are released, it's to a life in tatters like a natural disaster hit a trailer park. Ears is very lucky to have a me and Sis to have been doing all that for him, to keep doing it. The other young men I have seen are being visited by folks who have become jaded and resigned to their kids' lives being over, expecting incarceration like this is now all there is going to be. They break everyone, the inmates and their people. It is sickening to watch, day after day. And I sure as fuck am not joining that collective.

Next, Sis and I will go to the cottage. I will close it soon, and prep it for that tonight, empty the fridge etc. but am very glad I didn't sell it because that is not Erie County. Wyoming county is a healthcare desert, which sounds great. I used to try to solve those; now I want an address in one. Far as I'm concerned- this is the last we'll ever see those motherfuckers asap.