We received a referral to a developmental assessment clinic place. The Genetics clinic told us that they would set it up, and they warned us that the waiting list is about A YEAR. Nice.
I got the paperwork in the mail -- I'm actually APPLYING for an appointment. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. Wait, yes I am: ANNOYED.
There's a form D's teacher has to fill out. D's teacher is our good friend who speaks English as a second language. When I told her about the form, she patted my arm and said, "OK. We'll do it together." I'm really not quite sure how I feel about that.
I AM getting a lot better at letting D. be D. and not feeling the overwhelming need to explain him to everyone. I'm trying, anyway. It helps that he is saying more things, and that I can understand more of them. But I hate knowing that we have years to go before we can really tell what kind of life we can expect for D. in the long run.
I guess that what terrifies me is that I know my cousin and I know Mr. WG's late brother. My cousin was adopted at birth. I mention that only because he has Fetal Alcohol Effect, and I don't want you to think my aunt drank her way through pregnancy. Anyway, my cousin lives with his girlfriend, but he definitely does not have a normal life. My aunt or uncle has to go check in on him every few days. Less so now that he has the live-in girl. He can't hold a job, because he can't hold multiple instructions in his head. Like, if you tell him, Hey, wash and dry the dishes, then set the table and pour drinks -- he'll maybe wash the dishes. Maybe.
Mr. WG's late brother never lived on his own. He could get up and get dressed and make himself simple meals and clean up and follow instructions, and he had a job putting cookies in boxes at a factory, and you could have a conversation with him about the plot of The Bold and the Beautiful, but not about, say, O. Henry's use of irony in the short story. Which for some people may constitute a perfectly fine life, but I am greedy, and I want more for my son.
The thing is, both of those boys -- men -- learned to speak, dress, tie shoes, cook food, et cetera. But both stopped short of acquiring the skills necessary to go to college or have a career. So D's fantastic progress thus far is no indication that everything will be OK.
And I can tell you how I feel about that: Sick.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Why I Worry
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5 comments:
Sometimes I don't have anything good to say except ... I hear you.
So understandable. The unknown sucks...and it's so natural to want everything for your child. I think a lot about how worst case scenario Julia lives with us and maybe has a little job, etc. And it makes me sick too. And guilty for wanting more, but I don't think that's unnatural. Bottom line, I hear you loud and clear.
But the thing is, you NEVER know. Not for D--but not for your other children either. You never know which kid is going to (G-d forbid!) get in a car accident in high school and wind up in a wheelchair. You never know which kid is going to (G-d forbid!) have some obscure reaction to a medicine at 22 and have a stroke. You never know which kid is going to surprise you and raise a houseful of grandchildren. You NEVER know what's going to happen to kids.
True Anon, you never know. But when you start off with a strike already against you it makes the "unknown" that much more likely. It's not just worrying for the sake of worrying. (And I've used your line of reasoning more than once to reassure myself, but it always goes back to that pesky known factor.)
Oh, and WG? Firefox ROCKS. Thank you so much for the suggestion.
"So D's fantastic progress thus far is no indication that everything will be OK."
Sing it, sister.
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