She has ADHD and needs medication. Because of the snow, we haven't been getting our mail. It wasn't a big deal (all we receive are bills, anyway) until it came time to call the pediatrician and get Brianna's prescription mailed to us. Then we were like "Oh, wow. We have to shovel out our mailbox." The doctor's office is about thirty-five miles away, so the office mails us the script every month. It would be a drag to have to drive all the way there. (ADHD meds are controlled, so the doctors can't simply call them in to the pharmacy.) The office is so accommodating because we've been going there since the kids were born. I love that there is at least one doctor still in the practice who gave my kids their very first checkup in the hospital. We didn't want to give that up when we moved to our new house. Anyway, we got the prescription today, which means Brianna had to go to school un-medicated for two days, Thursday and Friday. So I guess I'm thankful that she didn't clock anyone or wind up in the office. She didn't do anything super weird, like pulling up her shirt on a whim or posting something inappropriate on facebook. What's more, she pigged out at lunch and dinner without the medication killing her appetite, which is great, because she could stand to put on a few pounds. I'm thrilled also that her brother got an invite to spend the night over a friend's house, because she tends to pick on him more when she doesn't get her medicine. We should be safe for the rest of the weekend.
The thing that breaks my heart is Brianna hoped that because she was so "good" without her medicine, it meant she could go off it indefinitely. Granted, when she stops taking the meds, her creative, impulsive, bubbly personality comes out. Unfortunately, so do the jitters, the utter inability to control her flailing limbs and the tendency to blurt out whatever fleeting thought goes through her mind. If you didn't know better, you'd think that she was drunk without her medicine. But she insists she had two good days, during which she didn't "cry in a corner:" I don't believe she really cries in a corner--her dramatic side also comes out during these lapses--but it does make her more sullen, a bit moody and totally anti-food. There is no doubt she's way more fun without it. But her fun side also leads to trouble. So I'm thankful for the option of the meds that help her navigate the labyrinth of the public school district in which she's enrolled. I'm thankful that there's hope for greater understanding of the ADHD child, in light of the media attention that parallel challenges like autism and Asperger's are getting. Most of all, I'm thankful that Brianna put forth the effort to get through these two days without incident and that we were able to talk about the pitfalls she might have and acknowledge how challenging it could be for her. The ADHD child has to work so much harder than a kid without the disorder. And she was so proud to be able to pull off "normal" if only for two days.