Under Her Care(65)
“How has he done with all that?” Blanche had forwarded me their weekly schedule and rules when I’d emailed her to arrange our chat. Their program is filled with impressive blocks of activities ranging from art classes to outdoor fitness time.
“He doesn’t have a choice around here, since we expect all our kids to attend scheduled events unless they’re ill or there’s some other type of emergency. One of the girls in the house has taken a particular interest in him, and she’s taken him under her wing. She bosses him around and tells him what to do, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He’s started looking for her whenever he comes out of his room and follows her around on his own even when she’s not trying to give him orders.”
“And how does he do with things like getting dressed in the morning and meals? Has he had any trouble adjusting to all that?” How is he functioning so well? All he’s ever known is twenty-four-seven care. Even if he has another resident helping him out, it doesn’t explain how he’s able to do things on his own like coming out of his room at the designated times.
“So far so good. Doesn’t seem to be having too many issues. At least I haven’t heard of any, and I’m usually the first to know.” She pauses before going on. “Honestly, the thing I’m most concerned about is his medication. When’s the last time he had a medication adjustment?”
“Gosh, I’m not sure. I don’t actually have access to his full medical charts, only the testing reports from his psychologists and specialists. What’s going on?”
“All of our kids see our staff psychiatrist while they’re here for their medication needs. He comes to the house once a week and meets with whoever needs it. We started doing things that way years ago for our kids because it just made things easier. He stays in touch with their current psychiatrist if they have one so that the two of them can work together, and then they can go back to resuming their care once the child is discharged. Anyway, all that to say we had him meet with Mason this week, and he did a blood draw. It’s totally standard procedure for any kid who’s on lithium like Mason. Lithium can affect the kidneys and the thyroid function, so we always check to make sure they’re in the correct range.”
One of the biggest pains of lithium is the constant blood draws. I’d never be able to do it with Harper. She hates needles. So do I.
“His lithium levels were fine. It was the other blood levels that were concerning.” She clears her throat. “Our psychiatrist found toxic levels of cholesterol-lowering medication in his system. Those results just came in this morning, and I forwarded them to Detective Layne already, so be sure you take a look.”
I did more than take a look. I scoured those documents like they held the cure to cancer. My alarm was raised along with everyone else’s because kids aren’t ever prescribed cholesterol-lowering medication since it’s so dangerous to their systems. It slows everything down to scary, even lethal levels. Kids die from taking their parents’ cholesterol medication every year.
Blanche is convinced he got into his mom’s Lipitor stash, and Detective Layne acts like he’s found the holy grail. He’s confident the Lipitor in his system explains why Mason acted the way he did two weeks ago. Drugs are one of the oldest excuses in the book, but I don’t know what I believe. His blood levels of atorvastatin are toxic, which means he either was taking Lipitor for a long time or took lots of pills at once. But Mason doesn’t swallow pills, so that casts doubt on both their theories and brings up more questions than it does answers.
And then there’s the Ativan he was taking on top of everything else. Blanche didn’t mention it during our conversation, but when I reviewed the psychiatrist’s notes she sent me, I noticed that the psychiatrist took him off daily use and switched to as needed. The medication cocktail in his blood is enough to tranquilize a horse. Any parent with a kid on long-term medication turns into a pharmacist almost overnight. Genevieve is an extreme helicopter mom, so there’s no way she wasn’t aware of every single milligram that went into Mason’s body. She’d never allow him to be on that much medication because of all the overlapping side effects and potential complications—lethargy, confusion, seizures, and mental impairment—that go along with them.
Unless those are the exact things she wants to happen. Genevieve is no fool. She’s not the damsel in distress that she’s got people believing she is. She controls what goes in and out of that boy’s body, and if I had to guess, I’d say she gave him the Lipitor along with everything else they found in his system.
Savannah’s right about her mom. Savannah might be mentally ill, but Genevieve’s the disturbed one, and she needs to be stopped.
All the bedroom doors are open as I walk down the hallway to Mason’s room. I tap on the wooden frame. The room is arranged like any dorm room. Two twin beds. Each pushed up against the wall on opposite sides. A small IKEA dresser sits at each end, and there’s a closet that I’m sure if I opened would reveal a perfect-half divide. There’s a narrow space between the two beds with a striped black rug.
Mason sits on the bed with his back against the wall and his legs straight out in front of him. His tennis shoes hang off the edge. He’s wearing jeans, and his hands are folded on his lap. His noise-canceling headphones aren’t on his head. I’ve never seen him without them. It’s like he’s missing his favorite hat.