it all comes down to money
but we really need more time.
Sissy needs more time.
The RTC therapist believes that a weekend TL will buy us that time. The objective is to bring Sissy home for the weekend, see how she does (which will be poor, duh) so we can report her progress to the therapist who will report it to insurance who will decide if it's enough to put Sissy in the "meets criteria for in patient care" category.
It's a crap shoot at best but the therapist said based on Sissy's behaviors in the RTC this past week alone, her report to insurance will get us more time. This overnight TL will just be the icing on the cake, so to speak. But since insurance, when asked flat out, "what are the criteria for in patient care?" has this response, "I can't give you the answer to that question ma'am, but I can find out the answer for you when she's discharged" i think it's safe to assume that no matter what I do, the giant machine called state budget for mental health will win. Because let's face it, it's all about that bottom line and my low-income kid on state insurance is costing taxpayers money. $8,500 a month's worth.
Some days I want to march up to the type of people on this planet that spend $500,000 to clone their dead dogs and punch them square in the face. Not, "hi, how are you, *SMACK*" just
*SMACK! POW! BLAM! BOP!*
and then casually walk away, whistling with my hands in my pockets like I didn't do nothing at all. You know, like a RAD kid would.
Here's to 12 hours of driving, spending $100 for gas instead of groceries and 36 hours with Sissy in my house again, sleeping in the living room behind a curtain made of bed sheets and screaming at me when I tell her it's time to bathe and brush her teeth. Then throwing away the food I prepare for her because of course, I feed my family poison, Wonder Girl's been on chelation since birth, her kidneys are shot, don't you know because I'm such a hideous parent. Oh, and the growling and glaring and tossing of hairbrushes at my face because I asked her to brush her hair. Heh, i just had a thought. Maybe this weekend she'll need a haircut. (Staff at the RTC has complained of Sissy's annoying tendencies to disregard her Personal Hygiene, especially managing her mane) Well, I think a haircut can be managed, by golly. Fussing at Aspie Boy, petting and baby talking to Wonder Girl, whining about playing outside, on the trampoline of all things. Really, I should be imprisoned.
I'm not looking forward to this. It's too soon. We were just getting better at home.