So we go to the developmental pediatrician for a check up. Just to see whas’ up and check meds and all that good stuff. After a brief discussion, we get on to some concerns. Concerns lead to a small test. The small test leads to just one more thing. That one more thing is now called a fine motor visual integration disorder. But to the doctor it really isn’t one more thing because it was probably always there but is just surfacing now so really it isn’t anything new per se but … it’s just one more damn thing.
She reveals the concrete evidence to me in the middle of the lobby. I start laughing hysterically and she looks at me like I’m about to go postal, which unbeknowst to her I probably am. To her it’s nothing, it’s minor, it’s no big deal. To me, it’s one more thing. I look at her and I say, “I really was hoping not to hear the phrase – Would you like fries with that ? in relation to my son’s career choices.” She laughs. Haha – very damn funny. I point out to her that while it may have been there it is one more damn thing. This boy is anaphylactic, allergic, atoptic dermatitis, asthmatic, aspergers, add and now his brain doesn’t want to talk to his hands. Well hell. Who does his brain want to talk to ? It doesn’t want to tell him how to behave. It doesn’t want to not kill him if he eats peanuts or nuts. It doesn’t want to tell him how to make friends. It doesn’t want to help him read properly. It doesn’t want to help him breathe properly. So what may I ask is his brain supposed to actually do ? It appears to be going on strike on a regular basis and quite frankly I wasn’t aware of a union. We also discover that he has been holding his pencil wrong for five years and at this late stage may not be correctable. Well hot damn – let’s add just one more thing to the other thing that we’ve added today. Why not ? There seems to be a special on disorders and dysfunction today and apparently we are in the two ‘fer line. Hot diggity.
So the day continues.
At one point I am on the phone crying hysterically and wondering what the heck is going on ? Much stronger language was used but who knows who might read this. God forbid I offend. The hysterical laughter soon follows and I commence high pitched what the f#!%’s in order to relieve my mounting hysteria. Thank God for my friend with an A child. She gets it which is what I really need to hear at that time.
So the day continues.
I get home and the husband does not get it at all. He does not see the port hole to my son’s future shrinking. He does not see the added stress and added anxiety. He does not see the need for any of this. He does not see the need for me to have a moment. He believes he has it in perspective. I believe he is delusional but that is another story. My husband comes at this from a unique perspective because he himself is learning disabled. While not Wile E. Coyote, I am fairly bright and find reading and writing as easy as breathing. He does not, never has, never will found either of those skills easy.
It has taken me a long time to separate the ability to read and write from intelligence. My husband helped me with that. It has taken me a long time not to judge a person based on what they read or how they write. What I need right now is someone to throw me a freaking bone and tell me that my son’s future is not mandated to include McDonald’s as his only career choice. What I need is someone to show me that he can learn but needs to learn differently. What I need is all those people who told me he was bright all those years ago to go soak their head because they set me up for this fall. The “professionals” who over and over again said he was bright – he had problems, but he was bright. Well if his future career includes being a light bulb then we are on the right track.
Like it or not, this is just one more thing for Thomas and I to deal with. I guess I had hoped all his other issues would exempt him from any more things. A get out of hell free card if you will. This may turn in to a gift. There will be a positive from this I’m sure. But for right now, it’s just one more damn thing.