Christopher's Story (eBook)

John C. Rubisch (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2015 | 1. Auflage
100 Seiten
First Edition Design Publishing (Verlag)
978-1-62287-977-9 (ISBN)

Part biography, part social commentary, and part cold case, a compelling tale of the author's descent into his son's problems and the madness of the perpetual dysfunction of the country's mental health system. There is an astonishing level of detail taken from reports, evaluations, and the author's own journal entries, as he records his frustration, heartbreak, as well as a fair amount of humor. The MH system appears as bureaucratic maze of incompetence and callousness more interested in collecting insurance payments and protecting itself from liability than in assisting others. The failure of the system in the case of the author's son has disastrous results. Physically abused at the age of one and a half by his own biological father, the subject of this book commits physical abuse to an infant twenty-one years later with fatal consequences. And just when readers have thought it couldn't get any worse, there is a twist at the end that is beyond belief.
Staring when the boy was four, the author writes of his efforts to raise his son by himself. It is clear from the beginning that Christopher has emotional problems, and the author seeks help. However, the boy is continuously misdiagnosed as ADHD with the solution being to try another medication. Indications that the boy is brain-damaged are ignored for many years. In school learning takes a back seat to behavior management. Adolescence brings violence, substance abuse, inappropriate sexual advances, and turns in and out of placements. At a crucial stage where both father and son are pleading for help, the MH system does not even return phone calls.
Throughout the emphasis is on the failure of the MH system rather than the possible shortcomings of individuals. Pseudonyms are used to maintain the focus on the system.
The author concludes by citing crucial points in his son's life were opportunities for interventions were missed. He also cites long standard practices in the MH field that deflect accountability and keep the system inefficient. Recommendations for changes in the system are made. In the book's final passage, the author citing a case of a student in the last year in which the recommendations by the MH system are totally inappropriate for the student.

Part biography, part social commentary, and part cold case, a compelling tale of the author's descent into his son's problems and the madness of the perpetual dysfunction of the country's mental health system. There is an astonishing level of detail taken from reports, evaluations, and the author's own journal entries, as he records his frustration, heartbreak, as well as a fair amount of humor. The MH system appears as bureaucratic maze of incompetence and callousness more interested in collecting insurance payments and protecting itself from liability than in assisting others. The failure of the system in the case of the author's son has disastrous results. Physically abused at the age of one and a half by his own biological father, the subject of this book commits physical abuse to an infant twenty-one years later with fatal consequences. And just when readers have thought it couldn't get any worse, there is a twist at the end that is beyond belief. Staring when the boy was four, the author writes of his efforts to raise his son by himself. It is clear from the beginning that Christopher has emotional problems, and the author seeks help. However, the boy is continuously misdiagnosed as ADHD with the solution being to try another medication. Indications that the boy is brain-damaged are ignored for many years. In school learning takes a back seat to behavior management. Adolescence brings violence, substance abuse, inappropriate sexual advances, and turns in and out of placements. At a crucial stage where both father and son are pleading for help, the MH system does not even return phone calls. Throughout the emphasis is on the failure of the MH system rather than the possible shortcomings of individuals. Pseudonyms are used to maintain the focus on the system. The author concludes by citing crucial points in his son's life were opportunities for interventions were missed. He also cites long standard practices in the MH field that deflect accountability and keep the system inefficient. Recommendations for changes in the system are made. In the book's final passage, the author citing a case of a student in the last year in which the recommendations by the MH system are totally inappropriate for the student.

Elementary Years

Kindergarten year, 1988-89, was relatively uneventful. Report cards stated that Chris needed improvement in the following areas: writing, coloring, cutting, remaining in seat at appropriate times, working and playing cooperatively, and keeping hands, feet, and objects to self. In her final remarks for the year, the teacher wrote, “We are hoping to see more improvement in Christopher’s attitude and behavior in our classroom!” This statement was truly portentous.

Almost immediately Chris had problems in first grade. The school counselor observed him in class:

Chris walked over to a girl seated in the middle of the classroom. He wanted her book. She put the book in her lap, under her desk. Chris made faces in her face and walked away. He made mocking noises to a boy passing him. The boy tried to reach back and kick Chris. Chris wanted the teacher to see his finished bird. He ran over and showed it to her. She complimented him on his bird, but asked about the coloring of the worm. He said that he only had to color half the worm green. Another student said something about doing the trash. (Chris had asked to do this earlier.) Chris ran over and grabbed the can. He was asked to put it back and was told that students would do their own trash. He ignored the directions and began carrying the can around, doing trash. Chris began throwing the garbage in the can at other students. The teacher again asked him to put the trash can back. He ignored her. She walked up and helped carry the can over to where it belonged and (Chris) yelled on the way, “I’m going to keep it until I die.” The teacher announced recess. He said, ‘Oh goody’ and ran to the teacher’s desk. Chris took a Rubik’s cube and returned to his seat (apparently he was not supposed to do this).

His teacher said of Chris, “His temper is out of this world when he goes off.” Although I should not have been, I was shocked by this remark. After all I had seen his tantrums at home. But in my mind school was different. My son could not be behaving this way in school. However, he was.

His behavior was also dangerous. Angry with a boy on the playground, Chris reached under the boy’s glasses and pressed on his eye. Once as a passenger in a moving vehicle, he had a temper tantrum. He accidently kicked the gearshift with his flailing feet and put the car in another gear.

The school counselor thought that Chris might have ADHD. In the fall of 1989, a psychiatrist evaluated him. (Note: at this time we also moved from the farmhouse to the small town of Marysville, which was in the school district where I worked.) I told the psychiatrist that Chris had no respect for authority and would not back down in a confrontation. Chris told the psychiatrist that he liked getting in fights, and there were problems because he would not stay in bed when it was bedtime. He said he did not listen to his teacher because he did not want to do so.

The psychiatrist asked him if he could be granted a wish what would it be. Chris said not to be bad. When asked what made him mad, he said when he could not get his way and when his dad would not listen to him. The psychiatrist administered a test during which Chris was asked to draw a house, a tree, and a person. His findings:

Chris’s house tree person drawing was reminiscent of that which might be expected of a younger child. However, in addition, there were distortions particularly of the human figure, with huge balloon like appendages for hands, and six semi-circles which were supposed to be the fingers. The body was represented by two straight lines extending from a circle which was the head, the body also therefore representing the legs. He drew darkened circles for feet. There were no facial characteristics. He did not draw any windows nor other details in the house except for a door without a knob.

These distortions were a sign of organicity, or brain damage. However, I did not know it at the time, and it was not explained to me. Instead, I asked the psychiatrist about mixed dominance. Chris did most things with his right hand but kicked a ball with his left foot. In writing Chris would start with his left hand, and as he progressed across the paper, would switch to his right hand to finish the line. The doctor was non-committal about mixed dominance being an issue.

The diagnosis was ADHD, especially in group situations, with some oppositional tendencies. Play therapy and a prescription for Imipramine 10 mg were also recommended.

In retrospect this first contact with a child psychiatrist was an example of all those we were to see in the mental health system in the years Chris was growing up. Play therapy? Been there, done that. It didn’t work. I came to learn that psychiatrists put children on the lowest level of a psychotropic drug possible. The low dosage was said to guard against the possibility of negative side effects. A cynic might add it would guard against the possibility of lawsuits if there were any extreme negative side effects. Time and again Chris would be given a low level of medication that would prove to be totally ineffective.

As for the diagnosis of ADHD, the late eighties was the time of the great ADHD wave, or as it was called back then, ADD. Seemingly every student that had a behavioral problem in my school was ADD and was prescribed medicine (most of the time Ritalin). Chris got on the tsunami and became ADD as well.

In early 1990 Chris was on medication for ADD. He was now eight years old. An observational report from the school counselor indicates that his behavior at school had not changed in the least:

March 13, 1990

Observation in classroom 17 from 10:31 to 11:04