Finding a place where hippa is not a thing and egg shells

 **So I wrote this SEVERAL weeks ago, and today, Oct. 14th, I crumbled - so I will share this and tomorrow I'll share a bit my emotional status**

Without going into many distressing details: our life was recently turned upside down.  

Labor day weekend, Laddie didn't like it when Coach and I tried to review guidelines to follow in order to continue to live with us.  Um, 'didn't like it' - understatement.  The conversation lasted for 30 seconds.  

Coach called after him as he stormed off to his room:  Come Tuesday you can't use our car to drive to work UNLESS you sit down and review our guidelines.

One of our requests - don't drive 80 mph on a 40 mph road.  The next point on the list - no retaliating against Reg for telling us this, if you do you'll be asked to move out.  

Lad hasn't been receptive to our other attempts to urge him to DRIVE SAFELY, and guess what - after the blow up I discovered that he got another speeding ticket.  Not sure when he'll realize that we can see all of his banking transactions - his account is tied to ours.  So, yep - I can see that he paid a hefty speeding fine in court  when he apparently lied to us about why he took the day off.  This is not the end of the world and not necessarily my business (we do pay the car insurance though and his brother felt unsafe), but ironic because we've been telling him to slow down.  

Well, we all know, speed-demon that I am,  I'm not one to talk - but I've never done 80 in a 40.  Promise.  

There's much more to the story, but our TALK was a long time coming.  We've been walking on egg shells, wanting to discuss this or that.  The timing always seemed off and any mention of the smallest detail would upset him.  

Sometimes things just fall into place. I took this pic a few weeks ago when Tank was making eggs. Was not sure where I would use it, but hey - since I have no photo of our stress, THIS FITS - get it, egg shells?

We convinced him to see a neurologist, get a head CT, (he hasn't been himself since his last concussion) claiming that we wanted to see if they had any suggestions for the headaches he gets sometimes.  All true, but was there medically more to the story?

We feared he might refuse the scan before the appointment if we rocked the boat.  Then he had the scan, but we hoped he'd follow through and get the accompanying blood work done. More egg shells.   

Coach and I think his issue stems from before his concussions and has progressed into a full blown nightmare (I've self-diagnosed him, he meets EVERY criteria on the list of what I think he's suffering from, but I'm going to bypass all that).  We want to cover all the bases.  And guess how much those bases cost?  Well, we have a bill to pay for the head CT for $1,500 after insurance.  

AND what I love is that we can convince Lad to see the doctor (this was NOT easy), go for the test (held our breath that he'd show up), pay for the test,

BUT NO ONE CAN TELL US WHAT THE HELL THEY FIND, IF ANYTHING.  Take a bow, Hippa, my constant companion.  Lad is 22.  We can provide the insurance card, the moo-la to cover the fees, but then we exit stage left.  It's dark in stage left.  I hate being in the dark. 

College -the same as far as sharing of information ie:  grades, passing, etc.  I think parents should decide when a kid meets 'adult' criteria.  Stamp their drivers license.  Something.  I suppose helicopter parents would mess that up for the rest of us.  

"Dear college workers, Little Johnny still needs me.  Can you tell me if he eats 3 meals a day and if he wears his winter coat when it snows?"

Lad is NOT hitting the mark for adulthood.  So we shelled out tuition (he paid for a lot of it with money he earned) but no one could tell us whether he was passing.   

Last summer we paid for 3 summer school classes.  He insisted he could handle 3.  I found out after he returned to college in the fall, that he failed ALL 3 CLASSES.  Good-bye stack of money.  I admit, the only reason we discovered the truth (he lied, telling us he passed all 3) is that I opened a letter addressed to him from the junior college while he was away at school.  Go ahead, call the authorities.    

Still - he's a child.  I don't care what age appears on his drivers license.  Ed will be 20 in October - he reached adult status years ago.  Not to compare, but . . . well, yes - comparing here.

So since that day:  Lad sort of moved out.  We don't know where he's staying. He doesn't have many friends.  He told family friends that we kicked him out.  (Not even close to true.)  He uses foul language when addressing Coach and I.  Sends wacky text messages.  Storms back into the house unannounced, grabbing more stuff, showering.  Kicked Reg out of the empty room Lad and Ed share. Reg was taking a test on Zoom because that room has a desk in it.  

Overall his perception of reality is a mess.  It's heartbreaking and hurtful and incredibly stressful.

You know what's exhausting?  People assuming:  college kid struggling to adjust to living at home after college.  Not at all. 

We hid our car keys, wouldn't let him take a car.  He bought a used car.  He works at a dealership and buying a used car was the plan but he was waiting for a car with good gas mileage, right price to pop up. 

I called our car insurance people.  Can Laddie add his speeding-ticket-self to our insurance?  The lady, who has known us for years, assured me that he hadn't called and he couldn't be added without our permission because the policy is in our name.  

Me to the lady on the phone, who may know me - but now KNOWS me:  

YEAH, TAKE THAT HIPPA!   

(silence as she wonders how long I've been off my meds) I mean, this is what I'm talking about.  Everything should work like this.  It's MY POLICY.   I'M PAYING.  HE CAN'T BE ADDED WITHOUT MY SAY-SO.  I WISH TO GOD THAT THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY AND THE COLLEGE PEOPLE WOULD GET ON THE SAME DAMN PAGE.

She laughed, and that's all I've got right now.  Laughing at shit whenever possible.