continuing Loss of Health

Continuing where I left off...Christmas time that year was less than joyous. I remember struggling with how to write our usual Christmas letter and cards. I can’t remember how that one turned out. We were sleepwalking thru our lives. Emergency appointments with Annika’s mental health providers, holiday parties, Christmas shopping, work, church obligations, family therapy. Our psychiatrist and psychologist both recommended seeking residential treatment. We were referred to an educational consultant. During our initial consultation with the ed consultant, we regurgitated Annika’s entire life/health history. It made our heads spin as we relayed all the highlights (or should I say low-lights?) from being born 7 weeks early, to the recent discovery of benign brain cysts (which was another grueling period of time a week after my father’s unexpected death). We talked about the inpatient stay a few years before, the different alternative treatment paths we had gone down–biofeedback, the visits with a naturopath physician and prescribed diet changes, the years of therapy and the series of providers. The interview took 3 hours and the consultant filled many pages with notes. I remember her stopping several times and looking at us and shaking her head. Repeatedly she would utter things like ‘WOW!’ or ‘this is unbelievable’. There was something about ‘wowing’ this consultant that was sickly comforting. This woman made a career out of finding the best intensive treatment options for children with severe emotional and learning issues. If we were overwhelming her, then maybe it was ok that we were completely exasperated with the situation.

The consultant reaffirmed what the psychologist and psychiatrist had told us, Annika needed residential treatment. So, we paid her $3,500.00 and hired her to evaluate and give us recommendations. It was December 30, 2008. I remember sharing a little with my boss and his wife about the steps we were taking. I remember her criticizing our psychiatrist for referring us to an ed consultant–‘how can you pay $3500 for that? What kind of a Dr. are you seeing that can’t help you with finding an appropriate placement?’. Helpful. NOT. I remember her telling me she was going to talk a Dr. friend and ask them what they thought of the situation. As if it wasn’t bad enough to be having to make these decisions, we were already facing criticism of our choices before we had even MADE our choices.

After the consultant compiled all of the records, conducted a series of interviews with people in Annika’s life, she concluded that her needs warranted placement in a residential treatment center. For background, there are different tiers of treatment. The ladder goes like this: outpatient treatment/day school, therapeutic boarding school, residential treatment center, institutional treatment (which includes inpatient psychiatric units–IPU). We felt the impact of another violent blow to our hearts. She had 2 facilities in mind, both in great state of Utah! Utah??? How was this going to work? Annika was only 12.

We conducted phone interviews with the owners of each facility. We ultimately chose Uinta because their therapy model was one of the few options we had not tried with Annika. The owners seemed genuine in our phone conversation. They were parents of 4 grown children. They assured us that we would be able to see Annika frequently. There was an opening if we wanted it. It was Saturday, January 17, 2009. We booked plane tickets for that next Friday. That night Dean and I went to a party. Again, we went thru the motions that night. We had just decided we were going to take our 12 year old to Utah and leave her at a residential treatment center. We had no idea what we were in for. I remember one party-goer asking me if Annika thought putting her in treatment was punishment for the CPS incident. I tried to explain that we weren’t punishing her or sending her away, we were following several professionals recommendation for a more intensive course of treatment. I don’t think this person understood. How could I expect her to understand when we weren’t even sure what we were doing..

(Annika's new home at Uinta)

That week I was on auto-pilot. Buying her some new clothes, sorting thru her entire closet, following a recommended packing list, labeling every item and article of clothing that she was taking. That next Friday, Annika woke up in our Seattle hotel room. She was excited to go. She told us that she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time, hope. We flew to Salt Lake, rented a car, and drove about 2 hours north. We drove thru a mountain canyon. I remember the fog, so thick you could hardly see the road let alone anything along the side of the road. We found the house that would be Annika’s new home. We stayed for a couple of hours and then left. We drove back to a town about ½ hour from Uinta. I remember wanting to have a glass of wine. Guess what? Utah has some of the most stringent liquor laws in this country. Only beer is sold in the grocery stores. To buy wine you have to go to a liquor store–C-L-O-S-E-D. We tried several different restaurants, no luck. The next day when we flew back thru Denver, I remember spending our layover in an airport lounge. We were numb and relieved at the same time. We started a new chapter in our lives of living with loss of mental health.