Tuesday, February 18, 2020

We need to talk about Khubz

We need to talk about Khubz.

I never read or saw "We have to talk about Kevin," but it lingers in me like horror movies I never saw.  

The message from the social worker was vague but urgent.  The phone tag was beyond tedious.  It was painful.

Finally, we connected.

" I am very concerned about some of the things Khubz said."

Deep breath in but I held it.  And so everything she said next felt like a stream rushing by. 

"Has no memories before 2 months ago. Thoughts of hurting people. Animals.  Hit a schoolmate at a bus stop."

Do you think she was trying to get a reaction from you?

"Maybe. And that's possible but trauma. anxiety. evaluation. Beat a raccoon until it was dazed. Of course, not all of these stories may not be true.  Cannot remember. Distinguish.  Feels foggy for hours. For days at a time. Dissociative symptoms.  Trauma. "

When I exhaled it was really to expel her. A long, repellant, pushing breath. Which is to say, she heard my distress but understood nothing.  "She is not dissociating. . ."

"I didn't say she was dissociating.  I said dissociative symptoms.  Psychological evaluation. Schedule next appointments."

I am having a very strong reaction. 

"I understand." 

I do not worry she is going to hurt someone.

"I don't either which is why I am calling you instead of having taken her directly to the hospital."

Whoosh.  The wind in me began howling. Any string of tolerance left me.

I need to get off the phone with you. Right now. Right now.

"Schedule. Ok. Follow up. Evaluation."

Right now. I am having a very strong reaction.

"Acquiesce." 

*hang up*

I was still grippiing the last bit of air inside me.  Sally was beside me in the van, shocked & horror-faced.  It was as bad as I'd imagined, insufficiently captured here.

4:35

25 minutes before we begin our volunteer shift at Sally's first (and Iowa's last?) presidential caucus

I really needed my breath.

25 minutes.  25 minutes to pile in the mom bed with Scully and Khubz for a  "no, you're not in trouble but we need to talk" conversation.

"Honey, did you tell LIlly that you don't have any memories?"

"I don't, mom! She asked who my second grade teacher was and I said, Mrs.  Sparks? I think? And she asked me if I would recognize her and I said no--I wouldn't! And I wouldn't, Mom!"

"That's because all white women look the same to you, honey."

"Mom! I have a terrible long term memory!"

"You have a terrible short term memory."

"No--Mom! Its not just that.  I don't have any memories!"

"Do you remember driving out to the farm when we picked our chickens up?"

"We got them from the post office."

Oh.

"Mom!"

"That's the way memory works.  We imprint and keep the important stuff.  That's why you remember the name of Hermione's cat but not what we ate for dinner last Thursday." 


"Um. Did you tell Lilly that you think about hurting people?"

"I do Mom! I think all the time about what it would look like if I injected molten hot lava under someone's skin.  What would it be like for a body to burn from the inside out??"

That gets me to inhale.  And exhale.
And inhale again. 

"Remember at church after the endless mass where we thought the priest was wrapping up three separate times but he kept going? We had gone through all the tic tacs and you were completely over it and the bordeom felt like it had become painful?"

"It was painful.  It is a physical pain in me."

"Agree.  And you told Mama you were thinking of something terrible happening to everyone in the church?"

"I *was* Mom."

"I believe you.  Because that is the degree of pain and discomfort that you were feeling.  Pain short circuits our idea brain.  When I was in labor, the contractions were so painful that I tried to climb out of the bed, away from the pain.  It wasn't a logical decision.  It is that the pain was making me feel desperate."  You were feeling desperate to escape what you were feeling.  That is different than actually wanting something terrible to happen to the people."

----Mom in context: We were in church in dsm at a spanish language mass 2 days after a white woman was arrested for purposefully running a 14-year-old Latina girl with her car.  She told the police that she "wanted to kill Mexicans." The girl lived.  I watched the church door throughout the mass wondering if someone would come in sharing that woman's intent.-----

"So," I continued, "Lilly doesn't know you.  When you told her you had a friend that you told your inner thoughts to and your friend called you a psycho, Lilly hears that you are disturbed.  I hear that you are so happy to have a friend, a friend who really listens to you & paid attention to you and stayed your friend. "

"I *am* so happy to have amazing friends.  And most of the time, people ignore me.  I'm invisible.  But now I have friends.  Really good friends!"

Breathe.

"Um," Scully has been quietly listening to all this.  "Just checking in, because we have 7 minutes to get to the caucus."

Breathe again.

"Ok, Khubz, I have good news and bad news.  The good news is: you're not broken.  You're not ill.  There is nothing wrong with you.  You have a very powerful brain, ADHD and anxiety and it impacts your memory.  We already knew all of this.  The bad news is that all paths lead to mindfulness.  Meditation and mindfulness.  Some people have the luxury of not attending to their mental health but we are not those people.

4:55

"We will talk more later."

That was two weeks ago.  Two weeks of worrying if Lilly would call me back or escalate or call the school or request a welfare check.  She has not.  This absence of action is the only gap in her total incompetence.  We had asked her to work with Khubz on project planning, organization skills, and time management.  But she had been trained use a hammer and so Khubz was her nail. 

Tomorrow I go to meet with my own therapist who is in the same practice.  She will get to condense my feedback and rage to Lilly who will never see my Khubz again.

Wish me luck. 



It's just that sometimes, I find myself giving in to the dominant linguistic and cultural paradigm, because I just dont have the creative power necessary to generate my own description of events without falling back on cliches. sjp 11.28.07

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