July was the month of appointments, none of them mine. Matt had an appointment scheduled for his physical. I had a long list of questions to take with me. My mom never allowed anyone to take part in Matt’s care. She wanted full control and everyone had to do what she told them.

I expressed concern to the doctor how many supplements Matt was taking along with his medications. Matt was even taking a multi-vitamin with iron, although he had no medical purpose that I knew of to be taking it. I asked the doctor if Matt should be taking dozens of supplements. Was it possible his previous liver issues were due to taking too many supplements? The doctor said it was likely.

Then I discussed with the doctor the strict diet Matt was on. I told her I would like Matt to try a diet with no restrictions. The doctor asked Matt if he would like to have some ice cream. I told her Matt has no idea what ice cream is because he never had it before. As kids, we never drank milk. There were many foods Matt never had before. I wasn’t sure how his system would respond to a new diet. I was fearful he might have an allergic reaction of some sort. The doctor decided to draw some blood just to check if Matt was deficient and needed vitamins.

The blood draw was difficult for Matt as they couldn’t find his veins easily. The doctor said she could order allergy testing and even a brain scan to see what was going on if I wanted. But I told her I didn’t want to do anything invasive to Matt if what we were doing was working for him. His anti-psychotic meds are working. I didn’t feel the need to do a brain scan to prove he has schizophrenia or another disease or disorder.

The doctor told me the group home called her and pleaded with her to talk to my mom about Matt’s care. I went home and cried. I was overwhelmed with sadness that Matt was forced to live this way for so long with no one stepping in to tell my mom she was going too far. I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t sick, she was. It rang Munchhausen by Proxy warning bells in my head. It made me question everything I ever believed, everything she taught me as truth. I felt anger towards my mom for the abuse. I am so ashamed of my family. I feel nothing but disgust, yet I have to be the bigger person to make the decisions about everyone’s care. Was I making the right call??

Weeks passed, Matt started trying new foods. He ate ice cream cake for the first time at 49 years old. He really liked it. He didn’t have a reaction to it at all. Then he tried pizza. My mom found out that Matt was off his special diet. She became very angry and yelled at the staff member who gave it to him. I was afraid something like that would happen.

The last time we visited Matt he looked happy. I have more compassion towards him. I feel sad I couldn’t have changed things before. But my mom was the guardian and wanted to be in complete control. I couldn’t do anything about it before, but I can now and I am.