We fought so hard to keep from placing David in a facility. Now, we are fighting to keep him there. I never would have thought this day would come. Last year at this time, we were upset because we had to move him to a new facility. This year I would love to know that he can stay in a facility. This isn’t me admitting defeat. This is me begging for help. This is me admitting that we are beyond powerless to do this ourselves. Tomorrow, we start prep with the school for his return. Tomorrow, we start prep for his return home. Tomorrow, we appeal. Tomorrow, the fight begins anew. Wish us luck. Wish David luck. After all, we only want the best for him. Tweet #fighting4answrs
Ironically, the day after we receive notice of denial of coverage of services for our son, is the anniversary of his placement at the current facility. It has been one year since we placed David in a facility 500 miles from home. Today, I am struggling with the stress of not knowing where we are at with my youngest son’s mental health treatment. The denial of continued care is weighing heavily on my mind, and it will be Tuesday before I can file any appeals. He deserves better than this from the system that is responsible in part for his care. When we adopted him, he was ordered by the court to have complete state sponsored medical coverage until he turns 18. This is Medicaid. It isn’t safe for anyone for him to come home. Even the staff that works with him day to day has said that. A month
Dad’s are supposed to be able to fix things. I can’t fix this. I can’t undo the damage caused by a selfish woman who did not think of her unborn child when she proceeded to get herself loaded up on drugs.