Questions and Diplomacy

Winter has definitely settled in now. It was cold and rainy today, which made working from home feel like a real bonus. No driving anywhere, just listening to the rain outside while getting on with work.

After work I packed up the lounge room because the painter is coming tomorrow. Another job ticked off the list. It’ll be interesting to see how many walls they actually paint. There was only one wall with water damage from the leak, so I’m not sure whether they’ll just do that one, or the ceiling and a couple of walls. Eventually I’d like to paint the rest of the unit the same colour, but that’s something I can do bit by bit.

I spent some time with the kids tonight. It’s always nice just being together. My daughter is still so incredibly unwell, though, and that weighs on all of us.

A big part of my job—and, if I’m honest, a big part of my life—is advocating. Last year I reached a point where I had to step back from my daughter’s mental health team because the constant battles were wearing me down. I couldn’t keep fighting every day. Instead, I focused on working with the hospital because it was just less exhausting.

Today, though, I realised I couldn’t stay silent any longer.

I’ve encouraged my daughter to ask some very reasonable questions. Is there actually a treatment plan? How long is the nasogastric tube expected to stay in? What is the plan for removing it?

Then there’s the diagnosis of anorexia. The mental health team has labelled it anorexia, but from where I sit, the food refusal appears to be part of her chronic schizophrenia rather than a separate eating disorder. I’m not a doctor—what would I know? But if they truly believe it’s anorexia, or even a secondary illness alongside her schizophrenia, then why hasn’t she been referred to a specialist?

They also had her complete what looked like a very lengthy psychological assessment, yet neither she nor I have ever been told the outcome. That doesn’t seem right.

So today, as kindly and diplomatically as I possibly could, I wrote an email to both her case manager and the manager of the mental health team. I simply asked the questions that deserve answers.

Now we’ll wait and see.

Sometimes advocating isn’t about raising your voice. Sometimes it’s about asking calm, reasonable questions and expecting the people responsible to answer them.