The mental health field is a joke. A very sad, cruel joke.
I have e-mailed, called and texted Andrew's psychologist - two days in a row - once each medium. No response.
I speak to the psychologist's scheduling person.
Girl: "I'm sorry Dr. W....is out of the country and can't be reached."
Me: "She is in CANADA....CANADA -- they have the same area code system and I'm pretty sure they speak English too." When I lived in New York - I could see Canada from my back porch.
Girl: "Well, yes but if she is seeing patients - it is hard for her to call back."
Me: "She is at a seminar - not seeing patients - she doesn't have offices in Denver and Nova Scotia. Are you kidding me?"
Girl: "I'm sorry I use to be a patient...."
Me: "Maybe you aren't ready for prime time..." (I didn't say this I wanted to - oh God I wanted to...) -- I did say...."Listen, I know doctor's have lives - I get that - but the school is looking for input. My son has gone from doing okay -- to wanting to jump off a balcony, wanting to bolt and leave the school and today he is sitting under his desk. I need to talk to somebody. I give up on Dr. W - I'm calling the psychiatrist. Thank you." I hang up.
I called Dr. W the psychiatrist. He is seeing us tomorrow.
It seems that the more mental health help Andrew gets - the worse he is.
The social worker at the school said he has had many ups since he has been here - but now he is in a downward spiral.
I am caught in that spiral and my heart is breaking.