A Winding Way

We had a scare three weeks ago. Patrick was in the lowest of places. After a few frightening days, the three of us had a long conversation. We sat together and stressed to Patrick that we wanted him in our lives, even if that meant just spending time and sharing space as a family. No strings. Then we hugged.

Since that moment, Patrick has spent virtually every waking moment with us: eating, playing, watching TV, and helping with chores. He’s no longer isolating himself. He’s been amiable and relatively talkative under the circumstances. I’ve spotted glimpses of a smile, when he doesn’t realize he’s being watched.

It feels like suddenly breaking the surface after diving deep.

I’ve postponed an update, fearing a regression. And there was one this past week, although it was limited to one or two days. While the schizophrenia is predominant, the mind is over-active. It is challenging to read, study, or have an extended conversation. Anxiety from the disease and the paranoia it creates can make life miserable. The uncertainty, incrementality, and reversals necessary to effectively treat the disease can be extremely depressing for the patient and often leads to distrust in medication. So far, we have been relatively successful convincing Patrick to follow his doctors’ prescriptions.

Over the past three weeks, Patrick has been able to study for several hours each day. (He is refreshing his knowledge of programming in C and Java.) He is also able to enjoy television again and we are watching shows that all three of us enjoy together. We’ve successfully applied for state social services. (Aside: Washington’s Department of Social and Health Services has been supremely efficient. We were able to meet with a social worker within a few hours. Basic food sustenance support was immediately granted. Additional support for his disability took less than a week to process after only a short interview with a social worker. The federal social security service, by contrast, is orders of magnitude slower and less efficient. We don’t anticipate help from them for a year or more, despite launching the applications for support together.)

Then, yesterday more positive progress. For the first time since the illness took him, Patrick and I got in a car with Rory, our Boston Terrier, drove 15 minutes to a nearby park, singing show tunes together along the way, and hiked. There wasn’t much conversation as we walked. He trailed Rory and I, deep in his own thoughts. However, we ventured together, met strangers along the way, and tracked for 3.5 forested miles in the sun. It was glorious.

He’s in his room singing right now. That is the strongest signal that he is feeling more himself. And with it, I was exalted.