On a Different Page

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One of the downsides to living where we live is that it is difficult to find some kinds of medical care for The Boy. Medicaid covers quite a bit, and I am so, so grateful. But not all providers take Medicaid. There is basically one dentist we can go to, who is awesome – Thank heavens! And I have found exactly two counselors for therapy, both a bit of a drive from home.

Since one of The Boy’s major anxieties deals with absences from school (usually other students and teachers, because he never misses school), we eventually settled with the one who offered evening appointments, because missing school when you are anxious about absences is not an option.

The problem is, this counselor claims to have experience with kids on the spectrum, but I’m beginning to have my doubts. She told me last night that her brother has ASD, and I immediately thought of my ex-husband who knew he would be a great dad because his sister had 10 kids (at the time)… correlation not causation.

Red flag #1: She used the word “coddle” when asking if I could have “put my foot down” in the following situation. Grammy, Poppy, The Boy and I were on a long weekend getaway. Our hotel had spotty WiFi that The Boy had difficulty accessing at all. A meltdown was brewing, so we checked out and went to a different hotel. According to the counselor, she thought that I was “coddling” The Boy, and wondered what would have happened if I had “put my foot down.” I looked at her and said, “Most assuredly a meltdown that could have included a violent rage, possibly involving other patrons and property of the hotel.” No WiFi = not an option, and I don’t think there would be too many autism families who would disagree with me.

Red flag #2: She continues to ask open-ended questions. For example, last night, she was pulling cards from a “thoughts-and-feelings” game that you would only find in a counseling office, and gave one to The Boy who was reading them aloud. “What is the worst thing that ever happened to you?” I get that this is commonplace in counseling. Treating patients with autism may require a little more finesse and effort on the part of the counselor to get at what the kid is thinking without him parroting back whatever you said – I’m sure it can be done. Asking him to answer that question? SMH

There have been more, but I think you catch my drift with these two examples. I’ve decided to continue with her because A) there is literally no one else, and B) she doesn’t appear to be doing him any harm, yet. He likes her, and I think he enjoys having another outlet. But I’ll be monitoring the situation closely. She was headed in a very wrong direction regarding something else last night, and if I begin to feel uncomfortable, I will pull him, and we will continue our search anew, possibly driving further to see someone with weekend appointments if such a unicorn exists.

Suffice it to say that access does not equate with quality care, and I wish for the sake of our kids that we Americans cared more.

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Change Begins at the End of Your Comfort Zone

We are now multi-generational household! Aren’t WE trendy!

Grammy, Poppy, The Boy and I are all living under the same roof now, along with two disgruntled felines, and lots and lots of stuff that either has to find a home, or find its way to the dump. Change is always difficult, especially the older we get, and also especially for those on the spectrum. So while there is lots to be thankful for here (no chance to be lonely in this small house!), there is also adjustment – poor Grammy doesn’t really have a space to her own, and we’re still bumbling our way through setting up boundaries and routines.

But this is all in preparation for the long game. This will save us money, time, gas, and provide a little more support to The Boy and I. It’s also going to help us move toward our next step – something I’ll share more about when we know more. This split has been harder on me in many ways than my first divorce. That one was expected, and a bit of a relief. This one was neither. I didn’t want this, so working through the stages of grief will take more time, especially since there wasn’t really any closure.

The Boy, too, is still struggling, even though having grandparents here is mostly a good thing for him. Change is change in his eyes, and it’s unsettling. But the nightly upsets have decreased, and he gets more time to do what he likes after school because he gets dropped off at home now, which I think he likes.

I’ll post about the normal autism-related stuff we’re going through soon. Can you believe he’s a month away from turning 16? I sure can’t.

Cheers to all of you for hanging in there with us!