Yesterday we took Scott to a new doctor.
We found a doctor that finally made me feel like I'm not crazy for being worried about Scott. Or lazy for wanting help. Like someone actually understands what we're up against. And we found someone who actually seemed like they knew more than we already did. It's nice when your doctor is something more than just a walking prescription pad.
Despite a fabulous experience with the doctor, I still left the appointment wondering if we were doing the right thing.
But as we took the elevator back to the ground floor and started walking toward the car, I noticed that Scott had left his water bottle in the doctor's waiting room during the few minutes I had stopped to pay our co-pay. Back upstairs we went to retrieve it.
Then we got back to the parking lot again and started to get into the car. Somehow Scott managed to shut his own head into the sliding door of the minivan.
Don't ask how. I don't know.
As I sat and tried REALLY hard not to laugh while I hugged a crying Scott, I knew. How could I let my son keep slamming the door on his own head, both literally AND figuratively? I respect that this path may not be for everyone, but personally I cannot deny Scott this chance.
Today Scott started medication for ADHD and for the first time in a very long time, I feel optimistic.