Today I took Carver (and his 2 year old sister) to chat with the teacher of a local preschool, run by a Lutheran church in the area. The website, their blog, my emails with the coordinator had all been very impressive. I figured it was worth a shot. I needed to know if I had other options, rather than the developmental preschool he's at.
Fridays are generally hard for the 3 of us. We are all tired and we usually spend the morning at home so I can clean, which makes everyone a little cranky. We headed over there before lunchtime just to add "hungry" to the mix.
It was a typical preschool classroom and she seemed very nice. My emotions have been close to the surface all week, I've been literally losing sleep at night worrying about this. I was perhaps not in the best frame of mind to have this meeting. The kids were trying to ransack the toys while I discussed Carver and heard about their program. Within a few minutes, I realized that this was not going to be an option for him and wanted to get out of there ASAP. I wish now that I would've found a way to do just that. Instead, I chased the kids around the room and cleaned up all the stuff they got out, while trying to concentrate on the sweet preschool teacher voice telling me he seemed like a typical preschooler, excited about a new place. Her words were all kind, but the look in her eyes revealed the feeling of "he's a handful, she's crazy to consider this." But, in all fairness, I was so caught up in my own flood of emotions that this might be totally off. Less than 5 minutes into it, I realized tears were coming. I prayed and prayed that I could hold them off to the drive home. But that was not to be. She had to console me, offer me tissues, for crying out loud. That's when she told me about their routine and program and I really knew this would never work. 18 kids, 2 teachers, circle time, letter tracing, art, all good things. But she reminded him maybe 5 times that the neat little house was just a reading place and not for toys. 3 times she reminded him not to go out the back door. Twice he got himself a drink with a cup without asking. 2 seconds for me to imagine their "sensory table" of water/rice spilled all over the floor if Carver played there. She didn't say no. She said we'd have lots of communication, that we'd need a few weeks as a trial to see how he interacts with the class and that I might need to stay with him, as they'd done before with a special needs boy. Clearly not an option for me and his little sister, not to mention the hurt if it didn't work out and the challenges with that.
I cried more in the car, more at home, more on the phone to my sweet husband, more to my poor neighbor, more at home, while I tried to take a mini-nap with Carver. It's been one of those days.
It was crazy to consider a typical preschool, of course. I should've known that. It's brought to the forefront all my worries about kindergarten. Which I do NOT need right now. It also made me extremely grateful that we have a developmental preschool at all, poor parent-teacher communication and all. And that alone is probably worth all the tears.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Help wanted
When Carver’s 2 older sisters were preschool age, I developed a sense of educational self-reliance and belief that teaching is most effective at home. My feelings about preschool are complicated, but the foundation that I always return to is simple: preschool is a helpful social experience that prepares children for a classroom environment. And that’s it. Neither of my girls learned anything in preschool that they didn’t already learn at home. As they progress into elementary school, they gradually begin to be introduced to new concepts and I’m the helper instead of the main teacher. It’s worked for them. It’s worked for me.
So Carver is not fitting this mold at all. I flounder to provide all the sensory input he’d like (which is roughly as much as is humanly possible to dish out) and he isn’t hungry at ALL for preschool “curriculum,” unlike his sisters who soaked it all up. Counting, letters and shapes have come and gone with his interest level. It is incredibly discouraging to see those regressions. And baffling, too.
I have the same motherly desire to do it all, be Carver’s primary teacher and therapist. At the same time, I feel so hopelessly ill-equipped for that role. It is a sticky place to be. I know that raising and teaching a child with special needs requires a team of specialists, with me to hold all the pieces together. Where do you find all the help necessary? That is the hardest part.
We found a fabulous speech therapist who has helped Carver tremendously. I’m impressed with how she pushes him each week, building on what he can do and stretching him just enough. I hear more articles, more complete sentences and more articulation all the time. He works SO hard for her! And when I try to get him to practice at home, I get “No, no, no – Jennifer’s office.” That is clearly the place he associates with that level of effort! And it is SO MUCH WORK for him. You can’t imagine how he watches my mouth, labors with his own to try to make the same sounds that come out so naturally for the rest of us. He just has to work for every sound.
Carver’s preschool is a disappointment. Last year he THRIVED. He came home happy and it was clear that he was learning routines and academics with adults who connected with him. It’s not happening this year. I don’t know what happened. All new teachers came in and it’s just not the same. In all fairness, we do have a few excellent therapists and assistants there. And I believe that everyone is trying hard. But it’s a government funded program, required by law to provide a minimum level of “services” and I feel like we get the minimum services required and nothing more. But what are my other choices? VERY expensive preschools with waiting lists in other cities. What’s a mom to do? I come back to my foundational belief that preschool is just a great social training opportunity… and yet somehow that’s not matching up with Carver’s needs. I have to admit that I need help teaching him colors and letters and all that good stuff. Either I need to find new team members to help me in his education (but WHERE?!) or I’m left to prepare him on my own for kindergarten. And that last option feels like a huge burden indeed.
So Carver is not fitting this mold at all. I flounder to provide all the sensory input he’d like (which is roughly as much as is humanly possible to dish out) and he isn’t hungry at ALL for preschool “curriculum,” unlike his sisters who soaked it all up. Counting, letters and shapes have come and gone with his interest level. It is incredibly discouraging to see those regressions. And baffling, too.
I have the same motherly desire to do it all, be Carver’s primary teacher and therapist. At the same time, I feel so hopelessly ill-equipped for that role. It is a sticky place to be. I know that raising and teaching a child with special needs requires a team of specialists, with me to hold all the pieces together. Where do you find all the help necessary? That is the hardest part.
We found a fabulous speech therapist who has helped Carver tremendously. I’m impressed with how she pushes him each week, building on what he can do and stretching him just enough. I hear more articles, more complete sentences and more articulation all the time. He works SO hard for her! And when I try to get him to practice at home, I get “No, no, no – Jennifer’s office.” That is clearly the place he associates with that level of effort! And it is SO MUCH WORK for him. You can’t imagine how he watches my mouth, labors with his own to try to make the same sounds that come out so naturally for the rest of us. He just has to work for every sound.
Carver’s preschool is a disappointment. Last year he THRIVED. He came home happy and it was clear that he was learning routines and academics with adults who connected with him. It’s not happening this year. I don’t know what happened. All new teachers came in and it’s just not the same. In all fairness, we do have a few excellent therapists and assistants there. And I believe that everyone is trying hard. But it’s a government funded program, required by law to provide a minimum level of “services” and I feel like we get the minimum services required and nothing more. But what are my other choices? VERY expensive preschools with waiting lists in other cities. What’s a mom to do? I come back to my foundational belief that preschool is just a great social training opportunity… and yet somehow that’s not matching up with Carver’s needs. I have to admit that I need help teaching him colors and letters and all that good stuff. Either I need to find new team members to help me in his education (but WHERE?!) or I’m left to prepare him on my own for kindergarten. And that last option feels like a huge burden indeed.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Just the good stuff
Carver cracks me up. He wanted to be like Daddy after his bath and kept making "gang" signs. Then he wanted to see himself standing on our bathroom counter. cute, cute.
Carver is OBSESSED with gum and fruitsnacks (only Tree Top brand from Costco, though). Speaking of Costco... last time, he was watching a car chase scene from some adult-type movie: "Car moving... CRASH!" Of course, he loved it. Big sis was freaking out that Carver was watching a scary movie and he was in heaven. Another highlight of the trip was seeing a forklift up close. He wanted to stay and watch it. We follow it sometimes. :)
Routine is helping a lot. Mostly it's in pieces like "lunch-movie-school bus" and typical bedtime routines. I've been trying to run errands right when we drop the girls off at the bus stop since it follows the same pattern as speech or swimming days. I think it helps. It doesn't break up the morning as well, but it's worth the routine.
Have I mentioned that we are crazy busy? Speech is Mon/Tues and it pretty much takes the whole morning (but it absolutely worth every minute of the drive). Swimming lessons are Wednesday mornings and a little bit closer/shorter. Today the morning felt so LONG. It's weird to be home so long. Nice, too! :)
We're getting back to swinging almost every day outside. The weather has been fabulous this winter, which helps a LOT. I think it's time for me to suck it up and take them on a "wander" down the trail as much as I can. If you don't think about like a regular walk, it's not so frustrating.
Carver is the king of burps. I don't know how he can have such control and force! They are HUGE. And I'm pretty sure he's passing gas on demand when I'm drying him after a bath. What a BOY! Those are also the little clues to me that we will someday potty train him. That's an exciting feeling! :)
Carver loves to be tickled. Especially on his armpits. Today I got him to practice some speech words with the promise that if he's say "tuh-tuh-tuh" I'd tickle him again. It was MAGIC!
He ADORES his plastic tools. He uses them on boxes we'd ordinarily recycle and fixes the play fridge a lot. Something about those pipes just isn't right! He loves to be a worker, see workers and be a fixer. It is always motivating to him if I ask him to bring his strong muscles and do a special job.
OH!!! Carver has been SO afraid of bounce houses. He's sure they are going to pop and he doesn't like the noise they make. But we went to a friend's birthday party at a bounce place and he finally conquered his fear and LOVED it. It is a perfect fit for his sensory needs and I'm excited that we'll be able to do drop-in times now and then for him. He also got brave at a restaurant after the bounce house success and wanted a balloon. Wow! He's really growing up.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Going Private
Not the blog - just speech therapy. :)
We finished a two part evaluation with a speech language pathologist (SLP) about 35 minutes from home and so far, I really like her. Carver is excited to go, cooperates as well as could be expected. The first visit was really great as far as behavior goes. I was so impressed with how well he sat and said words for her. :) But he's starting to learn where the toys are and is anxious to try them all. She gave us a detailed evaluation that I'll try to include details from later. But the long and short of it is that she recommended talking to the school about upping his therapy time there and probably going to twice weekly therapy with her. It seems on track to me because he certainly needs the time and practice. A couple of the interesting things I learned so far:
Carver has the physical capability to make the sounds for words, just not the muscle control to plan and execute them on demand. All the age appropriate sounds are there. Even L.
He can move his tongue up and make a clicking sound on the roof of his mouth, but if you ask him to touch his tongue to his top teeth, even with a mirror and example - he can't do it. It's a perfect example of his lack of motor planning ability.
He has a hard time with words that switch position in the mouth. "Muddy" ends up sounding like "Muu-ee" or "munny." "Gate" or "Kite" are tricky because it shifts from the throat to the teeth.
Making sounds in a row on purpose is hard. Sequencing is a challenge for sure.
I'm encouraged. I'll be able to listen to books on tape to and from speech... :) Okay, maybe not. It's a great time to practice conversations with Carver. So far, I need to leave Grace at home. Hopefully we'll be able to work up to taking her with me. I don't want to use all my babysitting swaps in one place!
We finished a two part evaluation with a speech language pathologist (SLP) about 35 minutes from home and so far, I really like her. Carver is excited to go, cooperates as well as could be expected. The first visit was really great as far as behavior goes. I was so impressed with how well he sat and said words for her. :) But he's starting to learn where the toys are and is anxious to try them all. She gave us a detailed evaluation that I'll try to include details from later. But the long and short of it is that she recommended talking to the school about upping his therapy time there and probably going to twice weekly therapy with her. It seems on track to me because he certainly needs the time and practice. A couple of the interesting things I learned so far:
Carver has the physical capability to make the sounds for words, just not the muscle control to plan and execute them on demand. All the age appropriate sounds are there. Even L.
He can move his tongue up and make a clicking sound on the roof of his mouth, but if you ask him to touch his tongue to his top teeth, even with a mirror and example - he can't do it. It's a perfect example of his lack of motor planning ability.
He has a hard time with words that switch position in the mouth. "Muddy" ends up sounding like "Muu-ee" or "munny." "Gate" or "Kite" are tricky because it shifts from the throat to the teeth.
Making sounds in a row on purpose is hard. Sequencing is a challenge for sure.
I'm encouraged. I'll be able to listen to books on tape to and from speech... :) Okay, maybe not. It's a great time to practice conversations with Carver. So far, I need to leave Grace at home. Hopefully we'll be able to work up to taking her with me. I don't want to use all my babysitting swaps in one place!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Wake-up call
Lately, I've faced a lot of reality. I exchanged emails with Carver's preschool teacher and SLP -a speech language pathologist, formerly known as a "speech therapist." :) It turns out Carver's not speaking much at school. I had figured that his IEPs and progress reports reflected his ability to perform in structured, formal testing situations and didn't worry too much about the low age equivalencies given. But I wanted to be sure. I was really surprised to find out that he's NOT talking at school. Strings of 3 words at BEST. Mostly single-word utterances. WHAT?! He's talking volumes at home. Granted, articulation is a major hurdle. But he's not letting that stop him. He speaks in paragraphs at home, disjointed sentences strung together with semi-colons or ellipses. So this is a major discrepancy. And it has me concerned for MANY reasons:
1. How can speech therapy be effective at school if he's not talking?
2. Why isn't he comfortable enough at school to talk? He used to talk up a storm at school - last year, different classroom, different teacher and therapist. What's happened?
3. I can't count on the school system. I've been coasting and it's time to get back in the driver's seat.
4. The clock is ticking and we're just under 2 years away from kindergarten. I'm kicking myself for wasting so much time.
SO... I'm diving into the search for a private speech therapist. I'd been on a waiting list and didn't know what else to do. Now we've been accepted to the local therapy center, but I'm not just taking whoever I get. Next Monday we meet with the first recommendation from my pediatrician. (HELLO?! Why didn't I ask him sooner? He's fabulous and knows an awful lot more than I realize.) I'm willing to drive about 30 minutes for therapy, the local place is 15 minutes. I'm hoping we're looking at every week. I've resisted the cost ($25 co-pay each visit), but how can I NOT do it?
But more importantly, it's good for me to have these moments where I get myself back on track at being Carver's #1 advocate. It's exhausting to worry all the time about him, to be constantly teaching and coaching him. I have 3 other kids, laundry, dishes, meals, church responsibilities, a husband and so many more parts to my life. It's a sticky balance between feeling guilty that I'm NOT doing more for Carver and letting myself relax to the point that I'm not doing much at all.
Whew. Add to all that the fact that I keep looking at my sweet 4 year old and wondering when he'll use the toilet and I want to throw in the towel completely!
1. How can speech therapy be effective at school if he's not talking?
2. Why isn't he comfortable enough at school to talk? He used to talk up a storm at school - last year, different classroom, different teacher and therapist. What's happened?
3. I can't count on the school system. I've been coasting and it's time to get back in the driver's seat.
4. The clock is ticking and we're just under 2 years away from kindergarten. I'm kicking myself for wasting so much time.
SO... I'm diving into the search for a private speech therapist. I'd been on a waiting list and didn't know what else to do. Now we've been accepted to the local therapy center, but I'm not just taking whoever I get. Next Monday we meet with the first recommendation from my pediatrician. (HELLO?! Why didn't I ask him sooner? He's fabulous and knows an awful lot more than I realize.) I'm willing to drive about 30 minutes for therapy, the local place is 15 minutes. I'm hoping we're looking at every week. I've resisted the cost ($25 co-pay each visit), but how can I NOT do it?
But more importantly, it's good for me to have these moments where I get myself back on track at being Carver's #1 advocate. It's exhausting to worry all the time about him, to be constantly teaching and coaching him. I have 3 other kids, laundry, dishes, meals, church responsibilities, a husband and so many more parts to my life. It's a sticky balance between feeling guilty that I'm NOT doing more for Carver and letting myself relax to the point that I'm not doing much at all.
Whew. Add to all that the fact that I keep looking at my sweet 4 year old and wondering when he'll use the toilet and I want to throw in the towel completely!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Lesson #5: A Boy and His Thumb
Once upon a time there was a baby boy of squishy leg rolls and chubby cheeks. His mother gave him a pacifier when he cried, to soothe him to sleep. He loved his pacifier and began to call it his "yum-yum." This mother liked the yum-yum because it calmed him down when he was frustrated, which was often. And she liked that it was something they could eventually wean him of. They were a family rich in yum-yums, hidden in many places around the house and used for bedtime, car rides, movies, and late afternoon grumpies.
Then one day, this baby boy grew up into a preschooler. And his mom decided that it was a good time to say good-bye to the yum-yum. He missed it, but learned to sleep without it. They coped with disappointments and frustrations without it's help. But he wasn't ready to give up the soothing feeling of something in his mouth. They tried gum and a chewy tube, but they weren't the same at all. At long last he found the perfect thing for his mouth - his thumb. His mom didn't think it was perfect at all. How would she ever help him stop?
As I wrote this little tale, I realized again how much of it is about ME rather than CARVER. Interesting. I am a control-freak of various degrees and naturally like the security of pacifiers, that I get to choose when it's used and where it hides, when it's time to outgrow it. I'd asked some of Carver's OTs and SLPs and gotten recommendations to take away the yum-yum, but ultimately it was my choice. And he wasn't ready at all. He may have learned to sleep without it, but he wasn't ready to LIVE his life without it. I resisted that thumb, but in the end realized that it was my own fault for taking the yum-yum away too soon.
Then I made an even greater realization: Carver needs his thumb and that's OKAY. It's not my issue, it's his. I've even learned that it's a wonderful thing that Carver gets to choose when and when not to suck on his thumb. I see patterns - when he watches movies or listens to books, when he rides in the car or sits at church, when I tickle him, when I snapped at him this morning from the shower because he was playing in my jewelry box after I JUST told him not do. He sleeps with the yum-yum because it is still his favorite, but he doesn't get it any other time and he doesn't mind at all. He is learning to self soothe and that's an important skill for anyone. He won't suck his thumb his whole life - at least not in public, right? :)
So the lesson of the day is to accept your kids as they are. I never wanted a thumb-sucking child. EVER. But Carver needs his thumb and I take him as he is. We don't get to choose what our children like and don't like. We don't get to choose their personalities or sense of humor. I am learning to let go of my control issues, to honor my children's individuality and even let my 8 year old part her own hair.
Then one day, this baby boy grew up into a preschooler. And his mom decided that it was a good time to say good-bye to the yum-yum. He missed it, but learned to sleep without it. They coped with disappointments and frustrations without it's help. But he wasn't ready to give up the soothing feeling of something in his mouth. They tried gum and a chewy tube, but they weren't the same at all. At long last he found the perfect thing for his mouth - his thumb. His mom didn't think it was perfect at all. How would she ever help him stop?
As I wrote this little tale, I realized again how much of it is about ME rather than CARVER. Interesting. I am a control-freak of various degrees and naturally like the security of pacifiers, that I get to choose when it's used and where it hides, when it's time to outgrow it. I'd asked some of Carver's OTs and SLPs and gotten recommendations to take away the yum-yum, but ultimately it was my choice. And he wasn't ready at all. He may have learned to sleep without it, but he wasn't ready to LIVE his life without it. I resisted that thumb, but in the end realized that it was my own fault for taking the yum-yum away too soon.
Then I made an even greater realization: Carver needs his thumb and that's OKAY. It's not my issue, it's his. I've even learned that it's a wonderful thing that Carver gets to choose when and when not to suck on his thumb. I see patterns - when he watches movies or listens to books, when he rides in the car or sits at church, when I tickle him, when I snapped at him this morning from the shower because he was playing in my jewelry box after I JUST told him not do. He sleeps with the yum-yum because it is still his favorite, but he doesn't get it any other time and he doesn't mind at all. He is learning to self soothe and that's an important skill for anyone. He won't suck his thumb his whole life - at least not in public, right? :)
So the lesson of the day is to accept your kids as they are. I never wanted a thumb-sucking child. EVER. But Carver needs his thumb and I take him as he is. We don't get to choose what our children like and don't like. We don't get to choose their personalities or sense of humor. I am learning to let go of my control issues, to honor my children's individuality and even let my 8 year old part her own hair.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Vision Therapy?!
Okay, I've been slacking. I'll have to talk about IEP's later, but this story needs a bit of a preface. At our IEP meeting a couple weeks ago, Carver's OT suggested we consider having him evaluated for vision therapy. She works with his fine motor skills and one day used kidney beans as part of their therapy. One fell on the floor and he tried to pick it up, but instead of grabbing the bean, he fixated on a red stain on the carpet and repeatedly tried to pick THAT up. So she started wondering about depth perception, etc.... I loved that she was thinking about the whole picture, considering how we might help him. I welcomed the suggestion. She gave me a few places to try and I set up a free screening for today at place in Bellevue with a certain Dr. (OD). I have to admit I was a bit skeptical going in. Vision therapy isn't exactly mainstream and I'm mostly a mainstream kinda girl. I'm going to try to be fair to him as best I can, but when I can't help myself, I'll switch to italics.
It was in a nice enough office in a medical part of town, near the hospital. The staff was friendly, there were toys, the doctor was exceptionally friendly. He asked questions, looked at Carver's eyes with lights, watched how he "tracked" a ball on a stick. Or, in Carver's case, how he did NOT "track" the ball on a stick. The dr. turns to me and says, "this is huge. see how he can't even follow the movement of the ball?"
Hmmm... my skepticism is growing by the minute. The room is fascinating, full of crazy optometry equipment, a video screen, files, books, computers, monitors, chairs, lights, the whole gammet. Everything I've read on SPD tells that in such a stimulating environment, they have a hard time focusing.
He asks him to name things on the screen, which Carver can do. He puts special lenses over Carver's eyes, follows them with a light and determines that his vision is unimpaired. I figured as much. But he also said that Carver has a hard time focusing on things up close (bringing his eyes together) and probably sees double. I think he ascertained that from the two tries he gave him to look at that same little ball on a stick. But the dr was between me and Carver and I'm not exactly sure where that conclusion stems from. The doctor demonstrated for me what it might be like to look at a written page and see double (not that I couldn't imagine this.)
He asked about our insurance, who it's through. I told him Blue Cross and he said, but what company? I told him Derek's employer and he said confidently, "oh, then it'll be fine."
What?! It's a small company. How does he know? Weird.
He kept pressing me to say that Carver doesn't want to look at books, that he prefers to do other things. But Carver loves to be read to. He asks questions, points to things, wiggles around on the couch like crazy - yes. But books haven't been an issue for him in a long time.
So he recommended an addition full evaluation ($290 out of pocket) and then personalized vision therapy. They'd look into insurance costs for us for that. I asked him what vision therapy might look like for Carver. He said that they do a lot of it at home now, downloading therapy homework on the computer and then submitting it back to the office. We don't have to come in all the time.
HELLO! Carver is 4!! He can't use utensils or pencils with consistency. He's supposed to do homework on the computer!?!?
Also, they do pictures that they can only see one part at a time without using both eyes together, using games and whatnot. That made more sense, but it's still pretty nonspecific.
He said a lot of crazy stuff that I won't be able to remember accurately. Here's the gist, without any of my commentary thrown in, I promise. He's been doing this for 40 years and can always figure out what is going on with kids. If he just thinks about it long enough, he can find the reason for their behavior. Sensory motor processing issues (he called it something like that) is really just that the kids are stuck at a lower form of development and they haven't reached vision yet (since it generally comes later in the developmental process). If you do vision therapy, it'll fix all the other stuff because essentially it'll fix his SPD. He gave the example of sitting on his stool. He relies on vision to keep himself there, but if you're wiggling all around to find the edges of the stool and understand gravity, that's just socially unacceptable. It's not wrong, these kids are born obnoxious, they just need to be taught to use vision to understand the world instead of their tactile senses. He recently went to a workshop where someone taught him that speech is related to our thought process because it's like talking in your head! (He said this was great enthusiasm, certain that he was enlightening me on this point, as well.) Vision is integral to this process. I'm still unclear how he connected that. Oh - maybe it was because if we could see what was really going on around us, we'd be able to communicate about it. I think that was it. On our way out, he asked about Carver's eating and said that we crave what we're allergic to and we should really consider switching to soy or eliminated wheat if that's what he likes. Talk about random, although food issues aren't to be ruled out. I just didn't think OD's were nutrionists or gastroenterologists. I asked how attention span played into it and I think he said that vision therapy would help him focus on things longer, that his behavior would drastically improve.
WHOA. I don't know what to say to all that!! Seriously?! He downplayed the importance of language, assured me that vision therapy fixes SPD because we just need to give Carver a new way of gaining information. It was absolutely crazy. I've NEVER met a doctor so completely uneducated in SPD - EVER. It was mind boggling.
Even with all my inward rantings and my outward struggles not to look at him like he's crazy while he's talking to me, I think there could be a grain of truth mixed in all of that mumbo-jumbo. I get the idea that helping Carver focus and track things with his eyes would help his ability to do fine motor skills. It might even help him learn to take in his environment in a more organized, controlled way. But we are not going back there. I'll look into another place or two and see what comes of it. Sheesh! What a waste of time. At least it was free.
It was in a nice enough office in a medical part of town, near the hospital. The staff was friendly, there were toys, the doctor was exceptionally friendly. He asked questions, looked at Carver's eyes with lights, watched how he "tracked" a ball on a stick. Or, in Carver's case, how he did NOT "track" the ball on a stick. The dr. turns to me and says, "this is huge. see how he can't even follow the movement of the ball?"
Hmmm... my skepticism is growing by the minute. The room is fascinating, full of crazy optometry equipment, a video screen, files, books, computers, monitors, chairs, lights, the whole gammet. Everything I've read on SPD tells that in such a stimulating environment, they have a hard time focusing.
He asks him to name things on the screen, which Carver can do. He puts special lenses over Carver's eyes, follows them with a light and determines that his vision is unimpaired. I figured as much. But he also said that Carver has a hard time focusing on things up close (bringing his eyes together) and probably sees double. I think he ascertained that from the two tries he gave him to look at that same little ball on a stick. But the dr was between me and Carver and I'm not exactly sure where that conclusion stems from. The doctor demonstrated for me what it might be like to look at a written page and see double (not that I couldn't imagine this.)
He asked about our insurance, who it's through. I told him Blue Cross and he said, but what company? I told him Derek's employer and he said confidently, "oh, then it'll be fine."
What?! It's a small company. How does he know? Weird.
He kept pressing me to say that Carver doesn't want to look at books, that he prefers to do other things. But Carver loves to be read to. He asks questions, points to things, wiggles around on the couch like crazy - yes. But books haven't been an issue for him in a long time.
So he recommended an addition full evaluation ($290 out of pocket) and then personalized vision therapy. They'd look into insurance costs for us for that. I asked him what vision therapy might look like for Carver. He said that they do a lot of it at home now, downloading therapy homework on the computer and then submitting it back to the office. We don't have to come in all the time.
HELLO! Carver is 4!! He can't use utensils or pencils with consistency. He's supposed to do homework on the computer!?!?
Also, they do pictures that they can only see one part at a time without using both eyes together, using games and whatnot. That made more sense, but it's still pretty nonspecific.
He said a lot of crazy stuff that I won't be able to remember accurately. Here's the gist, without any of my commentary thrown in, I promise. He's been doing this for 40 years and can always figure out what is going on with kids. If he just thinks about it long enough, he can find the reason for their behavior. Sensory motor processing issues (he called it something like that) is really just that the kids are stuck at a lower form of development and they haven't reached vision yet (since it generally comes later in the developmental process). If you do vision therapy, it'll fix all the other stuff because essentially it'll fix his SPD. He gave the example of sitting on his stool. He relies on vision to keep himself there, but if you're wiggling all around to find the edges of the stool and understand gravity, that's just socially unacceptable. It's not wrong, these kids are born obnoxious, they just need to be taught to use vision to understand the world instead of their tactile senses. He recently went to a workshop where someone taught him that speech is related to our thought process because it's like talking in your head! (He said this was great enthusiasm, certain that he was enlightening me on this point, as well.) Vision is integral to this process. I'm still unclear how he connected that. Oh - maybe it was because if we could see what was really going on around us, we'd be able to communicate about it. I think that was it. On our way out, he asked about Carver's eating and said that we crave what we're allergic to and we should really consider switching to soy or eliminated wheat if that's what he likes. Talk about random, although food issues aren't to be ruled out. I just didn't think OD's were nutrionists or gastroenterologists. I asked how attention span played into it and I think he said that vision therapy would help him focus on things longer, that his behavior would drastically improve.
WHOA. I don't know what to say to all that!! Seriously?! He downplayed the importance of language, assured me that vision therapy fixes SPD because we just need to give Carver a new way of gaining information. It was absolutely crazy. I've NEVER met a doctor so completely uneducated in SPD - EVER. It was mind boggling.
Even with all my inward rantings and my outward struggles not to look at him like he's crazy while he's talking to me, I think there could be a grain of truth mixed in all of that mumbo-jumbo. I get the idea that helping Carver focus and track things with his eyes would help his ability to do fine motor skills. It might even help him learn to take in his environment in a more organized, controlled way. But we are not going back there. I'll look into another place or two and see what comes of it. Sheesh! What a waste of time. At least it was free.
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