The Devastating Reality in Our Life

Monday, February 9th, 2015, started out like any other day for me. I had found my calm about Kaden and his disability. I had adjusted to the nearly daily calls from the school because his behaviors had escalated at school and they could not keep his violent tendencies muted. I had went to work that morning like every other Monday. We finished the job a little early and I was heading home. I received a phone call and the guy had introduced himself as a crisis counselor. I heard the words "Kaden" "cops" "mental facility" and the rest of the conversation seemed to be drowned out. I screamed at this man over the phone, "Do you people not realize that he has the mind of a three year old?" It was at this point that I realized my hands were tied on what I could do for him legally. I arrived home and called the hospital. I was told that they were currently processing him and that they had to hold him for 24 hours because he had become a threat to himself and others. When he saw the doctor the next day, the doctor could enforce a 72 hour hold and I could not see my child until Wednesday. I was encouraged to bring him certain items to make him more comfortable. I was made at ease to know that he was calm and didn't appear scared. For the next hour I had to reign in the rage I was feeling towards the school. How dare they not call me! I know my son and I could get him to calm down! I am his mother! I drove to the school in the rain shaking and fearful of what they might say when I got there. Once at the school I spoke with the ESE lead and the principal. They told me that he was agitated from the time he stepped off of the bus and until the crisis counselor took him away. Around 11 am Kaden threw a chair at another student. The teacher had the aide remove all of the other children. He broke apart an easel and had a metal pipe in his hand by doing so. Before his fit of rage was done five people were called into the room to diffuse the situation. I had informed the school that the more people that are around him when he turns violent the more violent he will be. People seem to fuel his rage. It took them an hour and a half to get him calmed down and not once did I receive a phone call to let me know that he was having a crisis.All evening all I could think about was how upset and scared he must be. He would feel like I had abandoned him. I cried until I realized I had no tears left inside of me.  He was released from the hospital on Tuesday. I had never been so excited to see my little boy. I asked him if he had been scared and he told me no. I have come to the realization that this will probably not be the only time he sees a hospital for these reasons, but I will be damned if I don't fight for him and to keep him out of such places.