"Tears"
A/N: This is a Deklan story. If this is not your cup of tea, please exit now. It's been a while since I have posted something. I have been doing a lot of reflecting and have been inspired by the late, great painter
Bob Ross who said "This is YOUR world, YOU'RE the creator, find freedom on the canvas and believe YOU can do it." My "canvas" if you will be used for writing. I feel confident he meant that for just about any type of creativity. So, with a renewed sense of determination, I am taking that advice.
This is a story written in Hank's POV and Deklan has been placed in a care facility and he's writing about it.
Nothing "Emergency!" belongs to me. If it did, I would be blissfully married to Hank, Mike, Mark and Kel. My original characters are not for public domain neither is the Raintree Community and their staff. Different passages are from Pink Floyd's "Sorrow" and are not mine either.
"The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rose, merge into the leaded skies
A man lies in dreams in green fields and rivers
And wakes to a morning with no reason for waking…"
That was me six weeks ago. Six very long weeks ago. Stephanie and were forced to make a decision we prayed we'd never have to make.
We had to put Deklan in a Special Care Facility. He is currently
twelve years old and the past five years of his life have been very trying and difficult.
When he was first diagnosed as being "Not of this Universe" we were told by age five that "brutal" self-abuse would rear its ugly head. Luckily that didn't exactly happen with us. Granted, he had his moments when he would pound his head or bite his hand or finger. We would intervene quickly but if he got more violent after we intervened, we always had what Doc Early called "rescue meds" which amounted to a tranquilizer that we gave him via shot in the upper arm. With that, came great responsibility. We had to document why we used it, how much we used and the results of it. Thankfully we didn't have to use it all that much. Maybe once every six months if that.
Most of the time, wherever he was in his mind and soul, it seemed to be fairly peaceful. Shortly after turning seven, things began to, over a period of time, change. The beast known as self-abuse set in and set in with a vengeance.
At first, it was fairly random. Then as time went on, a pattern developed. We had to have a "crash helmet" made to protect his head and special restraints for his hands that were on his stroller chair. We had to document when we used those as well.
While in restraints, we assured him that he wasn't being punished in any way; that he was being a danger to himself and as soon as he settled down, we'd let him out. Steph and I would do all we could to promote a calming atmosphere.
We had several places we liked to go to find peaceful surroundings. His room with the door closed, outside under a shade tree, poolside (without the Brood) or a ride in the van.
When we were in the room with him, Steph and I would speak to him gently while applying lotion on his arms while in restraints. We would always let him hold his favorite toy which was another way to tell him he wasn't being punished.
He had a plastic ring with keys on it that he chewed on as well as played with. He couldn't sleep without them. We'd restrain him for about twenty minutes then we would check to see if he calmed down. We would slowly let one of his arms loose to see what he would do.
If he didn't bite, we'd release his other hand in a few minutes.
We always wondered what caused those horrible outbursts. We just didn't know. One day Deklan's teacher Keri called and wanted to meet with me and Steph about his increasing violence. We met with her and she expressed concern about his escalating violence and we told her we were equally concerned and told her the different things we do when he gets violent and she said those were all really good ways to work with him.
Problem was, what worked in the "Universe" one day would not necessarily work another day. She asked how it was affecting the Brood and we told her it was highly disturbing to them. It scared the younger ones at times and was hard to explain it to them on their level. She said she could understand how difficult it would be.
She asked us if we could send one dose of rescue medicine with him. We told her she would have to go through Dr. Early for that because specific documentation was required. She said she would call him and go from there.
Then she dropped somewhat of a bomb on us. She told us because of Deklan's needs getting more complex, we should look for placement for him. Steph looked at me, I looked at her and we both had a "what in the hell?" kind of look. I asked Keri why this entered the conversation because Steph or myself ever entertained such a vile thought.
She said she understood why we felt the way we did however about twenty minutes from where we live, a new residential facility, about twenty-six months old opened and it was the perfect place for him. She said toured it before it opened and was extremely impressed.
She said it was built with babies, children and young adults in mind and it light years from a horrible institution. She offered to call the Raintree Community, as it is known, to schedule a tour for us.
Steph told her "absolutely not" and I agreed with her totally. Keri was so compassionate with us. She explained that sooner or later we were going to have to think about the Brood and how it was affecting them. It wasn't going to hurt to go and at least look the place over. I heaved a deep sigh and Steph looked at me as if to say "OK."
So I gave in and consented it too. Keri gave them a call and the following afternoon we would be touring the Raintree Community. Lord help us, we knew not what we were getting into.