As the parent of a son who suffers from schizophrenia, I feel the need to share with you. It is a traumatic event when one of the family members becomes psychotic and is later diagnosed with schizophrenia. To go back to 1996 for a moment; in the spring the behavior was already weirder than the period before, I mean more chaotic, little sleep, weight loss, smoking weed, incoherent stories about the universe and all kinds of paranormal things. At first I assumed that this behavior was due to smoking weed, and the period before that to a difficult teenage period. However, when he had come to the point of throwing all his belongings to rubble, I was convinced that he needed to see a psychiatrist. However, he himself did not think this was necessary, but felt that we should listen better to what he had to say because we did not understand what this life was about and he was the one who had to convey that to us. I then had to be very patient and listen to him, although I found it all very strange, I let him know that I did not understand it all that well and suggested that he go and talk to someone who understands these kinds of things and possibly could tell more about the books he had read so that I would understand more about them too. I suggested that we go and talk to a psychiatrist who reads a lot himself, although there was some suspicion that this man was a psychiatrist, I found him willing to go with me, because he liked to talk about his wanted to discuss ideas. I then called a psychiatrist friend and luckily he was willing to see him the same day. (This is an exceptional situation because usually a dozen intake interviews have to take place first and people are first placed on the waiting list, so that patients often drop out and start wandering) Anyway, that same afternoon the psychiatrist has met him after 2 and a half hours. Having talked to him, he was willing to start taking medication and suggested an admission. My son wanted to take those pills, but he didn't think a shot was necessary. OK we went home and after 2 days we had to come back to the office hours. After he had taken Risperdal for 2 days, his head became a bit calmer and he realized that he should be admitted for a while because he was now also very tired. When we went to the consultation hour he had already packed his bag, ready for recording, luckily there was also room at that time. I left him there and came to the conclusion that he had no health insurance and his rent had not been paid for 4 months, plus that he had been without income for half a year because he had lost his job and got stuck in social security benefit system. So there was work to be done for me. I immediately went to the benefits agency of the Sickness Benefits Act, the Unemployment Insurance Act. Initially I had to fill in a form and send it in, but I urged the lady at the counter that she would get the decision maker for me because something had to be done immediately in connection with the health insurance fund. After some insistence she then reluctantly got her boss because she saw that I had no intention of giving up. This man understood the urgency of the matter and went through the whole matter with me. All the more so since I had a statement from the psychiatrist that he had been admitted and a statement from my son that I was entitled to arrange his affairs… I had to fill in all the job sheets for the past six months, and I was given a statement for the health insurance fund that he had to be insured for the past six months and that the premium would be paid retroactively. So I went straight to the health insurance fund to arrange everything there. And I left with a provisional certificate of registration. That same day I passed on the registration number to the hospital. I also had to call the various creditors, including the landlord. Not everyone was willing to cooperate, but hey, if you are a creditor and everything is in ruins, there is nothing more to get, so you better agree to a good arrangement. Only the landlord was understanding and I guaranteed the payment of the rent. So this was a very exciting day, and I was exhausted in the evening. I was relaxing with a glass of wine when the phone rang. Sure enough there was my son, with the announcement that he was not staying there, I had to pick him up because everyone there was psychotic and he didn't belong there. I was perplexed and reacted very resignedly as I just didn't have the energy to go there anymore, somehow it dawned on him after I promised to call him the next day if he was still there thought so. In the meantime, the nurses also called about this incident, and they would take action. Fortunately, he was far from his hometown and mine, where there was a bad train connection. I also don't know how this would have turned out if he had been close by. After an hour my son called me again and he had calmed down by now, he had been taken care of by the nurses and one of the fellow patients who had experienced the same in the beginning had talked him out of it. Then came a period of uncertainty as to what was ultimately wrong with him, but it soon became clear that this was about schizophrenia. At first it was a shock, but then the disbelief that this would indeed be the case, and the hope that it wouldn't be too bad. It became increasingly clear that the diagnosis was correct, this was very difficult for all of us, but now we can live with it very well. And we are quite happy. In addition, we have a very close relationship.
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