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Waiting for a bed at the psychiatric hospital ...
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<blockquote data-quote="pajamas" data-source="post: 499772" data-attributes="member: 13499"><p>Finally - about 3:30 pm. Apparently there was some sort of screw up and some of the php patients were given rooms and told to stay. I kept calling and emphasizing how volatile she was, all the threats she was making (not mentioning that I think they are just for effect), and found an advocate who made it happen. Doesn't hurt that our psychiatrist is their primary child psychiatrist, which is why we've been waiting for this smaller psychiatric hospital rather than the big one close by (that she considers a vacation).</p><p></p><p>husband was able to come home about an hour after I left, and found her packing a pitiful runaway bag. Her essential items were peanut butter, chips, and cheese. Possibly the bag of vampire stories and word search books near the door was meant to go, too. husband is still at the psychiatric hospital doing the admission, so I won't know until later. </p><p></p><p>She calmed down when he told her we were waiting for admission. She wants to be there, wants to be in Residential Treatment Center (RTC). Sometimes, it's "anything is better that you guys!!!"; sometimes, she realizes she needs help. I feel really sad for her. And guiltily glad for the couple of nights of quiet we'll have with just Huck and Tink.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="pajamas, post: 499772, member: 13499"] Finally - about 3:30 pm. Apparently there was some sort of screw up and some of the php patients were given rooms and told to stay. I kept calling and emphasizing how volatile she was, all the threats she was making (not mentioning that I think they are just for effect), and found an advocate who made it happen. Doesn't hurt that our psychiatrist is their primary child psychiatrist, which is why we've been waiting for this smaller psychiatric hospital rather than the big one close by (that she considers a vacation). husband was able to come home about an hour after I left, and found her packing a pitiful runaway bag. Her essential items were peanut butter, chips, and cheese. Possibly the bag of vampire stories and word search books near the door was meant to go, too. husband is still at the psychiatric hospital doing the admission, so I won't know until later. She calmed down when he told her we were waiting for admission. She wants to be there, wants to be in Residential Treatment Center (RTC). Sometimes, it's "anything is better that you guys!!!"; sometimes, she realizes she needs help. I feel really sad for her. And guiltily glad for the couple of nights of quiet we'll have with just Huck and Tink. [/QUOTE]
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