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Feeling Sad---Son is Homeless
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 668394" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>I am less worried about the psychiatric than I am with his liver. He was born with Hepatitis B and we found out by accident when he was 19. Somehow, even though I took him to be tested at a Children's Hospital Infectious Disease Clinic, it was missed.</p><p></p><p>At the time my son was born there was mandatory testing of infants at birth, because there was an antidote that could be given within 24 hours which would eliminate the disease. Evidently he was not tested then either. I went and got him immunized in middle school, not knowing the disease was inside of him.</p><p></p><p>If he took antivirals it would kill the virus, and possibly the underlying disease. He goes to a University Liver Transplant Clinic. It is not a study.</p><p></p><p>I have no leverage with my son. I have tried everything. I even volunteered to go with him to the Big City on the train, an 8 hour trip. The train was 3 hours late. We missed the appointment. When we got there I was so stressed out I was physically ill. I told him go ahead to the University and I will wait at Starbucks. Tell them what happened and get your blood work done. That will show respect to the doctor. He left and came back half hour later saying there was a fight on the subway and he had to come back. (?)</p><p></p><p>I went to where he was living (while he was here in my town) and took him to get his blood work done and he picked a fight. The other time I took him he said it was too late.</p><p></p><p>It is apparent he does not want treatment or fears it. I try to tell him how much it means to me, he means to me. If it enters his head at all, I do not see it.</p><p></p><p>My son does not know about my lungs.</p><p></p><p>M, my SO, says the same thing as you, that I need to be strong for my son, for when he needs me. He says I am giving up without fighting. After he said that, I was mad for a while to punish him, and then I felt very sad. I have never quit anything before, that I recall, except a bad job.</p><p></p><p>I understand in my head what I am doing. The phrase "dance on his grave" comes to mind. How can I dance on my son's grave, even if peril to him may not come for years, or after my death? I do not want to die but there is something in me that does not want to live a life of triumph, either, if my son is at risk. My son is at risk. </p><p></p><p>The only thing that I cannot argue with is this: I must be healthy so that I may care for him or help him when he may need it. </p><p></p><p>My SO believes that I am at a point where my health is so vulnerable I am more vulnerable than my son. He said that about my Mother too, as she was dying. I thought I would die then. This is what has kept me down for so long. I have received a one, two punch. And now I do not know how to live anymore.</p><p></p><p>I am blaming M, my SO. Because until today, all of this was under wraps, until he told me I am quitting.</p><p></p><p>I was feeling better even though underneath I was not better. To be honest, I would rather feel better, even if I am not better, but I know that is foolish. But, it feels better. Duh.</p><p></p><p>I will get better. I understand I am better off feeling what is truly bothering me. Then at least I have a chance of getting better. Thank you for caring, FS.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 668394, member: 18958"] I am less worried about the psychiatric than I am with his liver. He was born with Hepatitis B and we found out by accident when he was 19. Somehow, even though I took him to be tested at a Children's Hospital Infectious Disease Clinic, it was missed. At the time my son was born there was mandatory testing of infants at birth, because there was an antidote that could be given within 24 hours which would eliminate the disease. Evidently he was not tested then either. I went and got him immunized in middle school, not knowing the disease was inside of him. If he took antivirals it would kill the virus, and possibly the underlying disease. He goes to a University Liver Transplant Clinic. It is not a study. I have no leverage with my son. I have tried everything. I even volunteered to go with him to the Big City on the train, an 8 hour trip. The train was 3 hours late. We missed the appointment. When we got there I was so stressed out I was physically ill. I told him go ahead to the University and I will wait at Starbucks. Tell them what happened and get your blood work done. That will show respect to the doctor. He left and came back half hour later saying there was a fight on the subway and he had to come back. (?) I went to where he was living (while he was here in my town) and took him to get his blood work done and he picked a fight. The other time I took him he said it was too late. It is apparent he does not want treatment or fears it. I try to tell him how much it means to me, he means to me. If it enters his head at all, I do not see it. My son does not know about my lungs. M, my SO, says the same thing as you, that I need to be strong for my son, for when he needs me. He says I am giving up without fighting. After he said that, I was mad for a while to punish him, and then I felt very sad. I have never quit anything before, that I recall, except a bad job. I understand in my head what I am doing. The phrase "dance on his grave" comes to mind. How can I dance on my son's grave, even if peril to him may not come for years, or after my death? I do not want to die but there is something in me that does not want to live a life of triumph, either, if my son is at risk. My son is at risk. The only thing that I cannot argue with is this: I must be healthy so that I may care for him or help him when he may need it. My SO believes that I am at a point where my health is so vulnerable I am more vulnerable than my son. He said that about my Mother too, as she was dying. I thought I would die then. This is what has kept me down for so long. I have received a one, two punch. And now I do not know how to live anymore. I am blaming M, my SO. Because until today, all of this was under wraps, until he told me I am quitting. I was feeling better even though underneath I was not better. To be honest, I would rather feel better, even if I am not better, but I know that is foolish. But, it feels better. Duh. I will get better. I understand I am better off feeling what is truly bothering me. Then at least I have a chance of getting better. Thank you for caring, FS. COPA [/QUOTE]
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