14: Exposure to Vomit!

We arrive in the morning for what is supposed to be another 3 hour session. Dr. G tells me that the director of the clinic wants to have a meeting with me around lunch time so we can talk more about the therapy and what to expect as far as seeing any change in my child. I arrive for the meeting and am planning on taking her home afterwards so we can go pick up my son from preschool. 
The director takes me upstairs to her office and we have a nice conversation. She mentions that she just prepared the vomit that my daughter is about to be unknowingly exposed to downstairs with Dr. G. She tells me about how she has done this many times in the past and it works. It takes longer with younger kids like her, but it does in fact work. She really makes me want to believe in this therapy and I agree to stay in it until the end. She tells me the goal for next week is to have her start going to school in the mornings for a bit and then coming to the clinic in the afternoons.
    Our meeting is finished and she finally looks at her phone that has been vibrating ferociously during our meeting. She looks concerned as she realizes she has a million texts from Dr. G because my daughter is freaking out downstairs. Dr. G had walked her into a bathroom where there was the vomit set up in one of the stalls. She sees it and throws Dr. G out of the way. She is now in the hallway downstairs yelling for me. Yelling like no one has ever heard her yell. She is threatening to hurt herself and is irate. The director tells me to take the back stairs out of the building, go pick up my son, go home and wait for Dr. G to call me.

    I do as told, putting all of my trust in them. I wait at home watching TV with my son in my bed. I am worried and want to call them, but I leave it in their hands. I send Dr. G a text telling her that she has not eaten anything besides half a Luna bar today. She may be hungry. She sends me a text saying that she wants me to understand that she is VERY upset and she will text me when they are ready for me. I was supposed to take her from there at 1:00. It is now 4:00! She finally texts me to come.
    I get there with my son and they are in the waiting room talking. She looks awful. Tired and colorless. She gives me a big hug and then stays in the waiting room while her brother and I go with Dr.G to talk. I set him up in the corner with my ipad and he quietly plays. Thankfully he is the easiest kid in the world and he just lets us talk.
    Dr. G looks exhausted. "Welcome to my world" I say. She tells me step by step what happened. How she was able to witness all the mental and physiological signs that my husband and I had seen in the past. Although this was worse than we ever witnessed. She tells me how she yelled and screamed in the halls for me. How she had to sit on her phone to prevent my child from taking it to call me. And how she finally was just able to sit with her and wait until it all passed. I am in shock that she was that distraught. I am glad that Dr. G was able to see all of that and I am amazed at how a fear of something can turn someone into that.
    We finish talking and she goes to get my daughter. We need to all meet again in the same room they had been in for the day before we can go. The room still has a cup of the vomit in the corner and she spots it. After Dr. G was able to get her near it earlier, she will now not come into the room. She starts up again and is telling me to come out of there. She says it smells bad. I honestly don't even smell anything. She says needs to talk to me in private. Her voice is getting louder and she is shaking. She goes back to the waiting room. 
    Dr. G explains to me how now that I am here, she is going to need to get my attention and need me to rescue her. The goal is for us to get her back in the room and sit down and talk about the day and any homework. She instructs me to go tell her: "when you are ready to come sit in the room, we will talk and then go home." Nothing more and no responding to any questions. I do that and when she tries to engage me, I walk out and head back to the room. This is my exposure therapy now. She keeps coming outside the room and begging me to come out. "Do you know what Dr. G is doing to me?!" she yells. Dr. G whispers to me to ignore. She does a series of coming and going in the hallway and trying to engage in conversation with me. Dr. G is coaching me on what to say and when. I am instructed to give her one more reminder "as soon as you come in and sit, we can start the meeting and then go home." Then I have to ignore. Dr. G and I are engaging with my son. Listening to him sing songs from school and just trying to show my daughter that we are going on without her and we can wait as long as she needs.

    It takes an hour! But, we do it! Holy shit! It really works! I am so glad that I had this coaching because now I know what I have to do at home. And this is the first time I ever see it work. I just never gave it long enough. Dr. G jokingly tells me later that she even thought to herself where we would all sleep in the room it if took that long to get her back in. So we have our little meeting and my daughter talks really quickly about the day so she doesn't breathe in any vomit germs too much. She has to go out of the room a few times to breathe. Drama!
    We are able to leave on a good note after some chatting and she tells me all about her day in the car. She is talking differently now. She is not angry. She is actually talking like she feels a bit of accomplishment. I am amazed. I let her shower and wash her hands and pick out prizes and let her know how proud of her I am. She calls our good friend and tells her all about the day, too. We talk about Thanksgiving at our friend's  house tomorrow and how she will be going to school for a couple of hours on Monday before we go to the clinic.
    We have a good couple of days, with a few bumps and battles here and there. I feel confident in my new found ignoring skills. I am confident that I now know what and when and how to say certain things and I can see it working. It's like trying to break down a wild animal before you can train them. She is starting to lose her control over me and I am winning the battles.

13: Exposure Therapy Week 2

  

Monday, November 19th. It is Thanksgiving week, so we have just 3 days of therapy this week for a few hours each day. I am aware that this week is going to start some serious exposures. 
    After my explosion last night, I want to talk to Dr. G and just get some reminders of what I need to do to keep cool. Dr. T always gave me great advice that would keep me calm from week to week. She knew me really well and knows what kind of parent I am and that I am not abusive in any way, shape or form. 
    Unfortunately, I realize Dr.G does not know me that well yet. She listens and immediately asks if I left any mark on her when I slapped her. My heart skips a beat and I realize her concern. Of course I did not leave any mark. It was an open handed spank through her clothes. We get past that and she reminds me of what I need to be doing. I am reminded that my daughter wants to get a rise out of me. It is a form of attention for her. I need to ride the wave and ignore ignore ignore. I thank her for the advice and leave them to do their therapy for the next few hours.
    They begin by visiting bathrooms again and going into the stalls to touch things. She has her touch the little tampon/feminine napkin garbage container in the stall because she doesn't know what it is and is afraid. It takes a while apparently and she is crying most of the time. I guess they spent most of their time crying in the bathroom that day with Dr. G never answering her as to what this little garbage is for. She is supposed to be using her detective thinking and able to rate her anxiety and cope with what she is feeling and doing. She thinks it is for throw up bags or something.

    I meet with Dr. G by myself at the end of the day and she tells me what happened. She tells me not to answer her about the garbage but to let her figure it out on her own. I notice she is not really looking at me while she is talking to me. She is kind of gazing out the window a bit. I figure she is tired from a long morning with my crazy child. I think our meeting is almost done and then the conversation shifts. She is now looking at me straight in my eyes. She tells me how she had a talk with her supervisor and they are concerned about my child's safety at home. My heart stops and my stomach churns. WTF!? Seriously? She explains about how they are supposed to report any abuse if they think it is necessary to the local child services authorities. I don't even know what to say. I feel sick and really uncomfortable. This is the most unhelpful thing anyone has ever said to me. 
    I basically have to sit there and convince her that I am not going to harm my kids. She is questioning my parenting skills. She asks if I am a parent that leads my children around by the arms? My head is spinning and I don't even know what she means by that. No! I am a fu**ing good parent that lives and breathes for my kids! Am I not allowed to lose my temper? Ever?!? She has a pen and paper in hand and is asking me who I know that can come hang out at our house tonight to make sure I don't do anything horrible. She knows my husband is away. I tell her there is no one. My best friend is teaching until late, and another friend (who has taken my son in as her 3rd child during all of this) is away for Thanksgiving. She is pressuring me for a name and she is waiting to write it down. 
     As she is waiting and looking at her paper, I have to tip my head down to catch her eyes and say "look - I just moved here not too long ago, I am busy with 2 kids, and I have no other friends close by. Do you know how hard it is to start over again in a new state and find friends in the middle of all of this?! There is NO ONE! I am not going to hurt my kids!" I tell her my Mom is a therapist and I can call her at the drop of a hat for some advice if I am feeling stressed. Phew, thanks Mom. I think I have convinced her that you will save me if needed. The end.

    I say nothing about all of this to my daughter and we have a horrible car ride home because she is so mad at me for making her do all of this. She tells me again how much she hates Dr. G and she is NOT going back there. We get home, she immediately showers and then she looks up what that little garbage can in the bathroom is for on the computer. She is instantly relieved when she finds out what it's for.

    We then get into the car for our second appointment with the psychiatrist. We talk about how worry, whom she and Dr. G have named "Voldemort" (from Harry Potter) makes her blow everything out of proportion. I teach her the term - making a mountain out of a molehill. She meets with the psychiatrist first and tells her all the horrible things that we are making her do. Tells her how she was talking about killing herself and all of that. She basically wins over the psychiatrist and gets her to believe that she is being pushed too much. I am called into the room and they both convince me that this approach may be too hard for her right now. After sending her out of the room, we decide to offer her the option of returning to school the next day instead of the therapy. I have a sense of relief because she begged me the other day to stop this therapy and she will go to school like a normal kid. I am so sure she will answer yes and my kid will finally go to school and pretend to be normal until the stronger prescription of medication we are getting today will kick in. I also tell her about being threatened with a call to Child Protection Services by the clinic. She says it is absurd and unfounded and they just need to protect their jobs. She calms my fears and tells me it will all be fine. She is very understanding that I lost my temper. 

    We bring her back in, offer the solution, and she says "NO!" Says she is never going back to school again. She chooses to keep going to therapy instead. The psychiatrist explains to her that she will be returning to school the following Monday since therapy will not be everyday starting that week and there is no way around it. So, she can either go back tomorrow or Monday and those are the only two options. This conversation at least makes me able to get her to the clinic the next day since it was her choice.
    The next morning I tell Dr. G about our psychiatry appointment. She explains that she is looking for a weak link. Anyone or anything that is going to get her out of this. She strongly urges me not to stop this therapy. I agree to keep going, but I explain that I am skeptical. This is all getting sooooo bad and I cannot see how or when it is going to work. Thank God there is no mention of our conversation yesterday.

    Their day begins. Visiting bathrooms, looking at vomit photos and also talking with a man in the building that has a gagging cough. Dr. G is great at setting up these exposures! They play a little game with him. She has to answer questions about him and every time she gets them wrong she has to take a step towards him. We meet again at the end and my daughter tells me all about her time there. She is less mad since it was her choice to go.