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Edited on Tue Feb-22-05 07:48 AM by sfexpat2000
Steve,
Your #12 reminded of something and it made me laugh. It's funny now, although at the time I was so mad that it was all I could do to shut up and just do measured breathing.
My partner's Dx doesn't read well an hour at a time. He's so great about getting himself seen, about following instructions, much better than I am in fact. But, his situation just doesn't "present" very well in 50 minute segments.
So, for several years, no one got that he was dealing with BPD AND with a measure of autism. And I was too much of a recovering Catholic good girl to assert myself, even if the folks at the other end had the skill to fold in the family. (Rolling my good eye.)
Anyway, this all led to nasties, like upsets where Christmas trees got tossed through windows, lights and all. Long story shorter, at one point we were separated and Doug was taken in by his friends. I heard he was homeless and called his mentor to send him down to me in L.A.
So, I called around and we headed into the biggest clinic in the county, the only one that treated BPD. We were told they had a very specific program for him but it was full and meantime, he could see a therp and get his meds monitored.
Eighteen months went by. The meds doc put him on some standard protocol that didn't work for him, and then gave up, prescribing whatever I asked for. I put in hours and hours on the net researching because I'm an English type, not a pharmacologist!
Ditto for the therapist. There was nothing happening there. No DBT, no skills training, nada. And poor Doug was decompensating every 5 to 7 days. Don't know how either of us made it through.
I called, and went with him and did everything but picket the clinic. And was alternately ignored and had my boundaries violated but good. It was a mess.
Before the last decomp, I called the clinic and told them flat out, I was in danger from the decomps, Doug hadn't gotten one minute of appropriate care and if anything happened to either of us, it would be their @sses. No one returned my call. I called again, and the doc said, "I can't keep doing this with you." Wtf?
Doug decomped, got scared, took all of our money and left the house, I went to the hospital with a concussion. (Shaking my head, hugging us all retroactively.) He landed in jail for possession of pot.
That was Sept 10, 2001.
By 9/12, I was recovered enough to put us back together. I called the jail and found him. Got through to Psych Services and an angel took down the list of the meds he was on. (Eventually, the charges were dropped. This is just the way they handle people who have psych problems and no treatment.)
Then, I called the clinic's director. I told him he was fired. I faxed him a list of the times I'd called and stated my concerns and been put off. He seemed particularly concerned about the fact that I wrote to my support group daily, and had an entry for every single day Doug had been (not) treated at the clinic.
Than, I called the therapist and the psychiatrist and fired them, too. I would have called the receptionist and fired him, too but, he actually DID his job.
(So, that left me with Doug coming home and no team. But, that's where we'd been for over a year and a half.)
In the end, I called up a therapist that Doug had seen in another town and whom I'd really respected. Begged her to do phone work with him and she was on board. Scoured the town for a real doctor and begged the family to pay his fee. It was huge and worth every penny.
Since that happened, Doug has had one minor decomp in over two and a half years. And now we both have the skills to handle them quickly and safely. We eventually came back north, so Doug actually sees his therapist and has a wonderful meds doc. Blessings, both of them.
I worry about all the people who go to that clinic who don't speak English or who just believe that's how things are or something. If I had the ovarian fortitude, I would sue. Not to be mean, but to get change for those people and their families.
As it is, I know we couldn't have gone through that without my on line support group. Because there was nothing for me in real time, for either of us, & those good people at the other end of a phone line were there for me 100%.
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