Spane Goes to the Hospital

Monday and Tuesday were a whirl of activity, trying to get accepted into shelter and finding money to keep us afloat.  Wednesday, we saw Spane's therapist, and she was concerned about what had happened that Sunday.  She said that if Spane ever said anything like that again, that I was to immediately call 911.

As it happened, after seeing Clara, and getting ready for bed, Spane said that he didn't want to go to school the next day, for whatever reasons he may have had.  It started into a fight.  Spane finally said the magic words "I would kill you, but there isn't anything here to kill you with."  I did indeed call 911.

When the police arrived, they were very nice to Spane, and said they would take him to Glendale Adventist.  They had handcuffed him, but put his jacket over so they could not be seen.  We both got into the back of the police car.and they took us to the hospital.

That hospital doens't have a children's mental health ward, so we waited for two days for a bed at another hospital. There was a guard at the door to keep Spane from coming out of the room.  Spane was interviewed by the hospital's on call psychiatrist, and he had some interesting observations.

Specifically, he asked Spane if he was angry at bullies, and Spane said yes. He asked Spane if he wanted to hit the bullies, but if he were afraid.  Spane said he was afraid, and then I realized that Spane was hitting me because he knew that it was safe to hit me instead.

I wanted to hit myself on the head!  Bullies!  Jesus, why had I not seen this way back in June of 2011 when Spane told me about the 42 original bullies in his head.  I could have kicked myself for being so stupid!

They were very nice to us at the hospital, fed us, brought in a bed for me, and even gave Spane a penguin puzzle.  We watched a lot of television, and played word games to keep ourselves occupied.

Finally, Friday night, Loma Linda called and said they had a bed.  Glendale put my son in an ambulance and sent him away.  I went back to the hotel.

Saturday before First Advent Sunday

For those of you who follow The Good Plate, you know that Advent and the Christmas season is important to us. This year, we used our original Advent Wreath, and I posted the information on The Good Plate.

I was excited to go the First Advent Sunday services, and came back from a board meeting at Alexandria's Archives, having discussed plans for the non-profit's new web site I am developing. Margaret Westlake, the founder, is a wonderful woman, and I really appreciate her. I left her home too late to get the regular Glendale bus, so I took the Metro bus, and got back to Brand in time for Saturday confessions. I knew it was important for me to go to confession so I could have Communion on Sunday. Because of that I got home later than I had planned.

Spane was upset that I came home late. He was even more upset when I told him that I had work to do, and that he couldn't get on my computer right away. He was even more upset about that. I told him that we were going to church in the morning, and he seemed a little happy about that.

Finally, amidst Spane complaining about not being able to get on the computer, Stevie told Spane he could use the kid's computer in the house. Not 20 minutes into, Spane came back angrily telling me that he was told to get off the computer and go to bed.

I have to admit, I was a little peeved myself, and went to check this out. Spane had indeed been told to go to bed, and then one of the other children said that Spane was a cry baby. He heard this, and really went off. I knew I was in for a bad night.

To get to the point, with Spane hitting me forcibly with pillow after pillow, at one point, I was so tired I said I gave up. The next thing I knew, Spane had a knife in his hand and he was brandishing it at me. He kept on saying that either he was going to kill me, or he was going to kill himself. I finally got it away from him, and Amber finally got him to go to bed at 5:30 am. We never made it to Mass, but Amber did tell me that we had to leave.

Amber wanted to know why I hadn't asked her to take Spane to the hospital, as he was obviously a danger to himself and others. I just said I was powerless. I felt powerless, unable to really do anything. It was the worst time in my life.

Luckily, I contacted my friend at Alexandria's Archives, and she was able to get me a motel for the week, and a recommendation to a good shelter. We moved out the First Sunday of Advent.