That is the nagging question, where do I start? There is such an abundance of information to wade through. Evaluations, diagnosis, online data, books, support groups, informational classes, 504s, IEPs, physiology, parenting resources, educational advocacy, medicines, exercises, relaxation, structural recommendations, how-to this, how-to that, do this, don't do that, hurry up, be patient...
Information overload.
Where do you start to try understand what your child needs. What does he need first? Who do I need? What I really need is advice from someone who is just a few months ahead of me in the process. But not just anyone, Someone who has taken the right steps, not only in the right direction, but in the right order. Is there a right order? Is there a right direction?
I think that all depends on the child. Where does he need the most help, the quickest? What can I do that is most beneficial for him at this point in our journey?
I don't have answers to any of these questions. What I do have is instinct. I'd like to think I've gained a little wisdom in my time on earth. I think what my son needs most from me, not just now, but always, is to know that I care, to know that I love him and to know that I will do anything I am able to do to help him in this life. In that, he is no different from any child.
We attended a class tonight that was focused on helping in the area of school challenges. While I think the general information given was a little ahead of where we are, we did get a couple of lists of more resources. I have been able to check out a few of the ones I've already collected and found some that appear as though they will be helpful and some that might not fit our needs. I'm planning on attending another one, hosted by one of the well-spoken of resources, tomorrow. I am very interested in hearing from other parents in what I hope will be a well-moderated session. I think this will be an opportunity to get an opinion or three on my nagging question, where to start.
If I can digress for a moment, and I think, being that this is my blog, I have permission... One thing that annoys me greatly at meetings like these are those people that seem to think that their specific concerns are worthy of stopping the entire meeting for. A lady tonight, during a two-hour overview, asked several questions that related only to her child, not on the topic being spoken of, and right in the middle of the facilitator speaking. One being, how to get my child to stop blowing spit bubbles... Time and place ma'am, time and place.
I feel the need to hit the ground running in this marathon, but I just want to be sure I don't run 26 miles in the wrong direction. I don't run that well as it is. It would be quite an accomplishment to win the New York Marathon while running the Boston Marathon. Or, I guess in my case, to finish dead last in one while running the other...
It is essential to aim in the correct direction if you are to have any chance of hitting the target. When it comes to my child, I don't want to waste any ammunition firing blindly at targets that have no value. I know I won't always hit the bullseye, but I fully intend on giving it my best shot, every time.
This has been a bit of a ramble, but I think it probably illustrates where my head is right now. Pray for direction.
Showing posts with label brain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brain. Show all posts
Monday, October 13, 2014
Saturday, October 11, 2014
The Waiting Room
I don't recall having any expectations of what the evaluation would be like. I'm not a big fan of waiting rooms or crowds, much less, crowded waiting rooms. So I was probably dreading the experience more than anything else.
The area I sat in had about 10 seats, about half of which were being used by adults. Most of the kids that were there were either standing or moving about. There was a chalkboard on one wall and a couple of boys were writing and drawing on the already filled board. Another child was being engaged in conversation by another adult. He was explaining how cobblestones were made, and why. A very detailed description of where you get the stone, how it was mined, smelted and turned into cobblestone. Why the smelter was made of cobblestone. The lady seemed to be more interested in getting him to talk than actually carrying on any sort of meaningful conversation. Cobblestone, cobblestone, cobblestone, he repeated, over and over as he paced back and forth. Occasionally he would join her child in talking about portals to another dimension, all while keeping up with her questions about cobblestone. His dad interjected only once during the conversation when he corrected his grammar. As this child was called in, his dad had to call his name and say, "let's go", about 4 times before he actually turned away from the cobblestone lady.
As I watched this, while waiting for Cody to be called, I could see in all of these kids, things I see in my own. It kind of hit me like a ton of br.. cobblestone. Any doubt I might have been hanging on to about Cody, was gone in a matter of minutes. During this time, Cody was moving back an forth between me and his mother, sitting sideways, bouncing, being upside down, etc.
As staff came out to engage the kids that they were to examine, the first thing I noticed was their demeanor. They seemed very deliberate in their movements, very relaxed. They talked to the kids in very direct way, getting down to their level, seeing them eye-to-eye. They would notice things about them, shirts, etc., and use that as a conversation starter as they led them away. This part of the process gave me a good feeling. It was very obvious that they knew how to talk to the kids in a non-intimidating way.
When we were finally called, we were one of three families that were there for the same thing. They led the kids into a classroom and then they called the parents into another room. We sat with two other couples and a gentleman who was facilitating our class. As he handed out literature and started going over it, I was smacked with reality again. There were three columns of different behaviors or traits on one page. As he read them out loud, I was checking them off in my head as they applied to Cody. Yes, yes, yes... All the way through all three lists, with the exception of one thing, I felt like the answer was yes. It was if they had observed my child as they were coming up with this list.
We were encouraged to talk about our kids around the table. There was a lot of agreeing and head-nodding as people spoke. I made one comment about something that has been really difficult to deal with, thinking I was unique in the way I felt. Not only did the facilitator say it wasn't really unusual, but two of the parents also agreed that they face the same issue. This was encouraging.
The guy talked about all kinds of science relating to the brain and how it works. Also how it works differently for some people. He talked about various things that may lead to this disorder, or may not, the science is far from settled. He also talked about what doesn't cause it. Including parental influences and things like that. Genetics seems to be the direction that they lean in the most. There has not been an ADD gene isolated that they can point to, however. There is no cure. There is no magic pill that can make it go away. There are only methods to help people function and cope better.
As slapped into reality as I was with this process, I did feel better by the time it was over. The information we got was helpful. It wasn't a this is how you do it type session, it was more of a you are in it for the long haul, but there is help type session. I felt better, yes, but still a bit over-whelmed. There is a lot to learn. There is a lot to think about. There are many decisions to be made. There are many challenges to be faced. There is help...
I feel like I sound as though this is something I have to go through. I do, but it isn't about me. This is about my son. Whatever I have to go through in order to help him, I just have to do it. I don't have an option. He doesn't have an option, why should I?
I'm not looking forward to the challenges, but I am looking forward to the triumphs. You cannot have a triumph without a challenge. It is inevitable. We are here for a reason. The path we walk is for a reason.
I am reminded of something I responded with recently regarding my son. Cody's brain is like the Hubble telescope, once you get it focused, you will be amazed at the things it can see.
That is reason enough for me.
The area I sat in had about 10 seats, about half of which were being used by adults. Most of the kids that were there were either standing or moving about. There was a chalkboard on one wall and a couple of boys were writing and drawing on the already filled board. Another child was being engaged in conversation by another adult. He was explaining how cobblestones were made, and why. A very detailed description of where you get the stone, how it was mined, smelted and turned into cobblestone. Why the smelter was made of cobblestone. The lady seemed to be more interested in getting him to talk than actually carrying on any sort of meaningful conversation. Cobblestone, cobblestone, cobblestone, he repeated, over and over as he paced back and forth. Occasionally he would join her child in talking about portals to another dimension, all while keeping up with her questions about cobblestone. His dad interjected only once during the conversation when he corrected his grammar. As this child was called in, his dad had to call his name and say, "let's go", about 4 times before he actually turned away from the cobblestone lady.
As I watched this, while waiting for Cody to be called, I could see in all of these kids, things I see in my own. It kind of hit me like a ton of br.. cobblestone. Any doubt I might have been hanging on to about Cody, was gone in a matter of minutes. During this time, Cody was moving back an forth between me and his mother, sitting sideways, bouncing, being upside down, etc.
As staff came out to engage the kids that they were to examine, the first thing I noticed was their demeanor. They seemed very deliberate in their movements, very relaxed. They talked to the kids in very direct way, getting down to their level, seeing them eye-to-eye. They would notice things about them, shirts, etc., and use that as a conversation starter as they led them away. This part of the process gave me a good feeling. It was very obvious that they knew how to talk to the kids in a non-intimidating way.
When we were finally called, we were one of three families that were there for the same thing. They led the kids into a classroom and then they called the parents into another room. We sat with two other couples and a gentleman who was facilitating our class. As he handed out literature and started going over it, I was smacked with reality again. There were three columns of different behaviors or traits on one page. As he read them out loud, I was checking them off in my head as they applied to Cody. Yes, yes, yes... All the way through all three lists, with the exception of one thing, I felt like the answer was yes. It was if they had observed my child as they were coming up with this list.
We were encouraged to talk about our kids around the table. There was a lot of agreeing and head-nodding as people spoke. I made one comment about something that has been really difficult to deal with, thinking I was unique in the way I felt. Not only did the facilitator say it wasn't really unusual, but two of the parents also agreed that they face the same issue. This was encouraging.
The guy talked about all kinds of science relating to the brain and how it works. Also how it works differently for some people. He talked about various things that may lead to this disorder, or may not, the science is far from settled. He also talked about what doesn't cause it. Including parental influences and things like that. Genetics seems to be the direction that they lean in the most. There has not been an ADD gene isolated that they can point to, however. There is no cure. There is no magic pill that can make it go away. There are only methods to help people function and cope better.
As slapped into reality as I was with this process, I did feel better by the time it was over. The information we got was helpful. It wasn't a this is how you do it type session, it was more of a you are in it for the long haul, but there is help type session. I felt better, yes, but still a bit over-whelmed. There is a lot to learn. There is a lot to think about. There are many decisions to be made. There are many challenges to be faced. There is help...
I feel like I sound as though this is something I have to go through. I do, but it isn't about me. This is about my son. Whatever I have to go through in order to help him, I just have to do it. I don't have an option. He doesn't have an option, why should I?
I'm not looking forward to the challenges, but I am looking forward to the triumphs. You cannot have a triumph without a challenge. It is inevitable. We are here for a reason. The path we walk is for a reason.
I am reminded of something I responded with recently regarding my son. Cody's brain is like the Hubble telescope, once you get it focused, you will be amazed at the things it can see.
That is reason enough for me.
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