First, my apologies and deepest gratitude to those who read my updates. It means a lot, not just because I appreciate my friends' love and concern, but also because I have come to believe it is my mission in life to get the word out about mental illness.

Susan and I actually had a date night tonight for the first time in years. I actually can't remember the last time. My father came to town and took Bodhi for the day. Our romantic day is as follows:

First, what woman doesn't like a visit from Child and Family Services? I know mine does. It's better than diamonds. A report had been made to DCFS that I had left Janni alone at Central Park in Santa Clarita. This occured three days after Janni was released from UCLA. She wasn't ready to go (she introduced herself as "76" when I went to pick her up) but Blue Shield wasn't paying anymore, and in America insurance companies work unbelievable miracles. When they say somebody doesn't need care, by God they don't.

So UCLA hadn't been getting paid for Janni since the 6th of February, and finally the bean-counters had had enough. So she was released. Three days later, she and I are on our way to "Central Bark" in Central Park to take Honey (our dog) to the park. Janni refused to come in with me. She used to love the dog park, but in her psychosis, if a dog jumps on her, she will try to hit it. Knowing this (and it must kill her because she loves animals) she refused to come in. I had no choice but to drop her off at the playground and go one hundred yards away to the dog park. Twenty minutes later, I come back to find Janni surrounded by people, crying. She had developed a sunburn in 15 minutes in the February sun. This is caused by the Thorazine, which makes her incredibly sensitive to sunlight (we didn't know this). One of the people with her was a Kern County Social Worker who was about to call the cops on me. The first words out of my mouth in explanation was "She's schizophrenic."

This had the effect of making matters worse, as her reply was "Then you definitely shouldn't leave her alone!" I explained that I did not leave alone, could not get her to come with me, that she never should have been released from the hospital, that the sky is blue, that mental health care in America is broken. She agreed and let me go. I immediately took Janni back to UCLA (dropped the dog off first) and she has been there ever since. Three weeks later, we find out that someone called DCFS saying I had left her at the park. Luckily, the local DCFS social worker, a nice woman named Mary Ellen, knew the layout of Central Park and realized that I had not in fact abandoned Janni. Still, she had to come out and check on Bodhi and will soon go to UCLA to check on Janni. Knowing that she was coming, Susan and spent were furiously trying to clean the apartment because nothing says "bad parent" like laundry on the floor.

Mary Ellen of DCFS was very understanding and said this was a perfect case of why child endangerment calls should be taken by local field offices instead of the downtown hotline, as the person who took the call did not know the layout of Santa Clarita's Central Park or know that the dog park is in spitting distance to the playground. This was my second brush with DCFS (I'll tell you about the first time another time-it is a long story that may change the way you think about me). Mary Ellen also told us that this is going to happen again and again. Parents of children with mental illness get visits from DCFS all the time. In her delusions, Janni can say anything and out comes DCFS with the Sheriff. So she basically told us (read me, since I am the man) to get used to it. She did give us her phone numbers so we can call her to provide continuity the next time DCFS comes knocking.

In their defense, gentle readers, I will say that I am glad I live in California. In most other states, potential child abuse is handled by the police. They arrest first and figure out what happened second. So in another state I would be sitting in jail, or worse, dead in jail because I incorrectly got labeled a child molester (another story-that was my first DCFS run-in). At least in California, it is DCFS who handles child abuse allegations, not the cops. By the way, both of the allegations against me have been found to be unfounded, so not to worry.

Then our day continued at UCLA, where Janni's doctor told us we needed to lower our expectations of Janni's recovery. The goal now is to stop the violence, not to stop the voices in her head that tell her to commit violence. They basically admitted defeat. The best minds in childhood psychiatry can only do so much for our daughter.

Then we faxed some Medi-Cal forms to a woman who didn't speak English, saw Janni (not bad today), then it was dinner and a movie. The movie was "Slumdog Millionaire," which is without a doubt the feel-good movie of the year. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll thank God you weren't born in India. From now I on I won't get so pissed when I call tech support and wind up talking to somebody in Bangalore who claims to be just down the street.

However, the movie does make you believe in fate, and I have to believe in fate. I have to believe all this is happening for a purpose. I have to, otherwise I will got insane.

Hence my status update: I choose to believe that this has all already happened, like a movie that has already been filmed, and that it has a happy ending where Janni grows up happy and healthy.

I believe in that ending.