Tomorrow we finally have the discharge meeting. Ben is, at last, responding to his meds and is well enough to have completely clobbered me and my husband Geoff in a game of 500 Rummy last night. Time to think about next steps.
It has now been 5 weeks since his relapse. I have no idea what will happen in tomorrow’s meeting, but I know this: Ben, of course, wants to return to his independent apartment, scene of the aforementioned relapse. There are pitifully few other options right now. If this is currently the only choice, I will not leave that meeting until some clear plans have been set in place to safeguard Ben’s recovery. Will keep you posted.
Last night I visited Ben with an orthopedic boot on my ankle. Cat bite. Long ridiculous story. I will recover, but right now can barely walk. I limp so slowly that I couldn’t use the hospital’s automatic revolving door (too fast). Let’s hope Ben never uses it again either. That’s what we are working towards. How to combine greatly reduced outpatient support with the goal to stay on meds, in a program, and out of the hospital?
That said, I now want to bestow an award: Employer of the year goes to Ben’s employer. The support they have given us during this difficult time has been exemplary. They have signed and sent a “get well” card to Ben. They sent him gifts: a company T-shirt, the little toy in the pic above. I keep the toy in my office for now (things can disappear in the hospital), and will give it to Ben upon his release. This stuffed crocodile has reminded me that I’m not the only one pulling for Ben’s recovery, not the only one who cares. So I added the post-it-note you see in the picture: “Recovery is Always Possible.” It has cheered and encouraged me over the past few weeks, and reminded me that Ben is – and always will be – in there behind the voices waiting to come back to us.
I’m so grateful that, once again, he has. And now we see what tomorrow’s meeting brings. I may bring the crocodile with me for moral support.