When the nurse called yesterday, I had to fight the incredible urge to drive over to that hospital and retrieve my child. Seems LuLu had had a major meltdown, attempting to hurt herself in various ways of increasing violence and they had to sedate her…and then restrain her. The sedation and restraint were her two big fears of going to the hospital – things that trigger her trauma.

I was heartbroken when the nurse called and told her so. Of course I understand totally about why these maneuvers were necessary. And unlike the school who wanted to experiment on her in all kinds of unethical ways, the hospital was obviously following the restraint rules set forth by the Health Care Financing Commission (now known as CMS).

They called me immediately, were with her at all times, checking her vitals every 15 minutes (and it only took about 20 minutes for things to resolve). The doctor was right there, and had given the order. He called me about 30 minutes later.

“You have a very traumatized child,” was his initial assessment. I assured him that she was likely more traumatized after being restrained. I did not mean to be a smart-aleck, and I don’t think he thought I was. I was intrigued that her PTSD was the diagnosis that stood out for him. He explained that two of the three medications they had given to her in the emergency were allergy meds, designed to lower her anxiety not necessarily as a chemical restraint, Visteril and Benedryl. Only when she was still highly dangerous to herself (trying to hit her head through a glass window) did they institute the restraints.

We discussed which medications she was on that would most likely help reduce her self-destructive behaviors and aggression and that new studies have shown that Clonidine helps those with PTSD by decreasing their hyperarousal (hypervigilant) tendencies.

Then he told me we should consider RAD as a diagnosis. I grinned, because he didn’t know who he was talking to. I told him she had received that diagnosis first, when she was three, and that we’d been working diligently on her attachment issues since then, with her attachment and trauma therapists. But, if he was seeing signs of attachment difficulties, I definitely wanted to know what they were.

He was surprised that I was that well-informed (his words) and then went on to describe what he was seeing (hypervigilance, inability to calm down, scanning the environment, oppositional behaviors, easily frustrated, obsessions). I asked him if, in his opinion those were RAD or PTSD. He said PTSD, but that since she was adopted he wanted us to be aware of RAD.

He did tell me that we have a very talented private psychiatrist. (Yes we do!) And he said my daughter was highly complex (Yes she is!) From that point it was about a couple of med changes he is making and that we will touch base on a longer term plan in the next 24 to 48 hours.

When LuLu called last evening she mentioned the two shots and the restraint. I asked her how she felt about it. “Angry” was her response (it typically is). I asked her if the medications helped her relax, which was what they were supposed to. “Yes, I’ve been able to have some fun since then,” was her response. She was scarfing down a bag of spicy Cheetos (most decidedly not casein free), despite me telling 4 different staff members that she was not to have anything with milk, butter, or cheese and that they needed to be especially careful with snack foods. They have marked all her meals as dairy free (which should reduce her casein exposure significantly).

I’m frustrated that all this may not be for her good. But I’m trying hard to just let the chips fall where they may. The cold hard truth is that I can’t do it alone…keep her contained and protected. And while it was good for her to be here in the protective cocoon of home, it is not a very realistic place for an 11-year-old to be forever. Someone else needs to help her (us)! She’s going to have to live in this world for the rest of her life. We need to find the right places, systems, and help to prepare her for that.

I still wrestle with whether this will ultimately help her or not. I don’t blame the folks at the hospital for doing “anything wrong” – they are compassionate and highly trained mental health professionals. LuLu isn’t your everyday challenge.


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