Lily was doing well during visitation last night. Being in an environment where she doesn't feel so out of control (very restrictive ward) helps her cope, and when she's agitated they medicate her pretty heavily. But, her eyes were clear and she was able to laugh about some things. We both needed that. I've been in contact with her case manager and new psychiatrist and am hopeful they'll help her return to a calmer state.
In the meanwhile, I'm making calls to her out-patient psychiatrist, her therapist, school, the Stanford program we're looking into, anyone I can think of who can help. I can do this. I have amazing support at work, I'm extremely grateful. So - counting my blessings.
On the homefront, I default to bunny manager. I'm not an animal person. At all. I think they're cute. But handling one makes me sort of squeamish. They wiggle when you try to pick them up. I can handle the cat, who requires very little handling thank you.
But, Lily has a bunny. The agreement when we acquired the bunny was that she would have complete and total responsibility for the bunny. Feeding, care, cage cleaning. And she's been very responsible. Lily loves this bunny. And I need to care for the cute little guy while Lily can't. So, I very carefully lift the guy out of his cage so he can get some daily exercise. I clean the smelly cage, fill it up with fluffy stuff so he's comfy when he goes back in, and I make sure his water, food and fresh veggie treats are administered. My twelve year old helps, he's a sweet peach. But the majority of the handling falls to me. **sigh**
Weirdly, I don't really resent this. The bunny doesn't yell or get distraught. He's calm. He may kick a little, but I've learned how to stay out of the way of his back paws. I get why Lily loves him. He's cute and soft and has big brown eyes. But the bunny and I will both be glad when Lily is home.