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| The definition of "suck-tastic" |
Last week was the definition of suck-tastic. If you look up "suck-tastic" in the dictionary, I am pretty sure you will find a picture of a calendar with last week.. complete with notes for "clustered" seizures, an emergency stay in the Pediatric Epilepsy Monitoring Unit, and topped off with the stomach flu. Because yes, we did it all.
And eventually, yes... when my mind stops reeling, I will get to those stories. But today's story has to be about today. Or, what we did today, to be more specific.
It's been nearly a year. It was March 2012 when we sat in the doctor's office. She watched Little Miss play, asked us questions, and scrutinized with the eye of a professional who had been in the field longer than I'd been a legal adult.
She added Little Miss to the statistic. The sweet little four-year-old who emptied the box of Knex (except for one piece) and then re-filled the box of Knex (except for one piece), only to empty the box and repeat...
That little girl... my little girl... was autistic.
It's been a year. We've added ABA and drafted the IEP you wish you had (I wrote most of it). We've visited specialists and learned about genetic makeup and epilepsy and medications and...
And she's still autistic.
I know, I know... in my brain where the logic lies, I did not expect the diagnosis to change. This is Little Miss. Autism is a part of her and it always will be.
But at some level, I think I hoped I was wrong. That the doctor would look at her today and say "I made a mistake. It's XXXX. You can give Little Miss a magic pill and her troubles will be over."
There is no magic pill.
We got advice for how to proceed with kindergarten, but by then I was numb. The doctor graciously offered to call the preschool director with her recommendations. My husband signed the release form.
Little Miss came within a hair of throwing a tantrum after being asked to clean up the toys she tossed around the doctor's office.
Instead of saying goodbye, she smacked the doctor's leg.
I knew. I have known all along. But I had hoped it would be different.
I hoped it was all a mistake.
Totally get this. Big hugs.
ReplyDeleteI remember your first post about it... A year, wow. Hugs for you and your family, you've had a lot of things to deal with since then. Thanks for still sharing.
ReplyDeleteHugs. Big, big bugs.
ReplyDeleteOh, I so get it. Hugs, momma.
ReplyDeleteYes. So with you. Oh how I would love that magic pill for all of us...
ReplyDeleteSo right there with you (((((YOU)))))
ReplyDeleteI know this feeling too. We kept thinking it was just a speech delay, or that he was a "late bloomer." It stings all over again, even when you know. It was a tough, tough week. Hope things get better soon.
ReplyDeleteYeah I remember this. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteCan I tell you how many times I go into an appointment - even now, 4 years later - and ask, "Yeah, but do you think he's really autistic?" Because, I, too, am STILL searching for the magic pill. That one pharmaceutical piece of goodness that will take all the fuzzy, incomprehensible, aggression, SIB, etc away and, yes, give me back my son. My son who I only see glimpses of on a rare, rare day.
ReplyDeleteSo, yeah, Girlfriend, I get this. Hard.
-Kelly
Oh yes...I get this too. HUGS my friend! xoxo
ReplyDeleteI remember that time last year. ((hugs))
ReplyDeleteNot an anniversary to remember but one you can't forget. Sending my love to you and LM as you make your way through this really hard patch in the road. You know we are all walking that road with you. xoxo
ReplyDeleteI get this, I understand it and I don't like it. We all go through it, all in our own time. Sometimes it sneaks up on us and other times it hits us square between the eyes. I so wish I could offer something other than my hugs and love from a distance. That's what I have, what I can give and take as much as you need.
ReplyDeletexxoo--Liz
Yep Everyday is it a mistake could it be something else but its not and its a long road and not a short answer there is no answers just keep swimming
ReplyDelete