There's some alliteration for you.
Graeme was scheduled to have part of his psychological evaluation this afternoon, but yesterday afternoon the psychologist we've been seeing emailed me to ensure I knew exactly what assessments she could do and whether I wanted to have more extensive testing done at another facility.
I knew I wanted to go ahead and do everything, if for no other reason than to eliminate the scary nebulousness of what-ifs from my brain. When I called the other psychologists' office to see when we could get in, the receptionist said they were scheduling for April. Then she said, "Oh wait, we have a cancellation for 9 am tomorrow, can you do that?"
Call it serendipity, call it god, call it fate. It could be all those wrapped up with a bow.
He was tested for 6 hours today.
While completing my self-reports today, and last night, and throughout the entire process, I keep wondering whether I'm making something of nothing. I have been known to make mountains of molehills. But when I think of December and the twice daily tantrums for three weeks that brought me to my emotional knees, I know that I'm not over-exaggerating. Even the psychologist we've seen said she thinks G would benefit from extensive testing.
There is also some part of me that feels like I am betraying G, parading him before psychologists asking "What is WRONG with him?," even though my rational being knows this is far from the truth, knows full well that I'm doing all this to help me be a better parent to him and help him learn to manage whatever difficulties he experiences, both now and later in life. I hear of too many parents who don't want to admit there could be something wrong, who deny the possibility because it might make them look bad or because solving the problem is a lot of time and money and effort and frustration. I guess if I have to err on one side or the other, I would rather it be on the proactive, somewhat overly-cautious side.
At the same time, when I was completing the self-reports, it made some things clear to me that what we have just gotten used to as normal isn't really "normal-normal." Like on one of the assessments about sleep, in which I had to note that G hasn't slept through the night more than 30 times in the past 1095 days, and he is closing in on 6.5 years old.
I kept looking for meaning in anything the psychologist asked. After speaking with her for a few minutes and witnessing her speak with G, she brought in an Asperger assessment and said, "I'll have you take this to just rule it out." My ever analytical and highly suspicious mind wondered, "Does she not think he has this and she really wants to rule it out or does she think he might have it and wants to know for certain?" Later, when she asked me a specific question about ADHD and whether it runs in our family, I wondered if she thinks THAT is his issue.
The worst that can happen is that the psychological tests show that there is nothing clinically wrong with G, that he just needs to mature or that this is just.his.prickly.personality. Should that be the case, I have determined that I will likely resume therapy for me. If there is nothing clinically wrong with him, then I need some supportive measures to help me cope with the time it takes for him to mature or to learn to deal with a child's personality that I find difficult to contend with.
Although the blogging certainly, certainly helps.
Graeme was scheduled to have part of his psychological evaluation this afternoon, but yesterday afternoon the psychologist we've been seeing emailed me to ensure I knew exactly what assessments she could do and whether I wanted to have more extensive testing done at another facility.
I knew I wanted to go ahead and do everything, if for no other reason than to eliminate the scary nebulousness of what-ifs from my brain. When I called the other psychologists' office to see when we could get in, the receptionist said they were scheduling for April. Then she said, "Oh wait, we have a cancellation for 9 am tomorrow, can you do that?"
Call it serendipity, call it god, call it fate. It could be all those wrapped up with a bow.
He was tested for 6 hours today.
While completing my self-reports today, and last night, and throughout the entire process, I keep wondering whether I'm making something of nothing. I have been known to make mountains of molehills. But when I think of December and the twice daily tantrums for three weeks that brought me to my emotional knees, I know that I'm not over-exaggerating. Even the psychologist we've seen said she thinks G would benefit from extensive testing.
There is also some part of me that feels like I am betraying G, parading him before psychologists asking "What is WRONG with him?," even though my rational being knows this is far from the truth, knows full well that I'm doing all this to help me be a better parent to him and help him learn to manage whatever difficulties he experiences, both now and later in life. I hear of too many parents who don't want to admit there could be something wrong, who deny the possibility because it might make them look bad or because solving the problem is a lot of time and money and effort and frustration. I guess if I have to err on one side or the other, I would rather it be on the proactive, somewhat overly-cautious side.
At the same time, when I was completing the self-reports, it made some things clear to me that what we have just gotten used to as normal isn't really "normal-normal." Like on one of the assessments about sleep, in which I had to note that G hasn't slept through the night more than 30 times in the past 1095 days, and he is closing in on 6.5 years old.
I kept looking for meaning in anything the psychologist asked. After speaking with her for a few minutes and witnessing her speak with G, she brought in an Asperger assessment and said, "I'll have you take this to just rule it out." My ever analytical and highly suspicious mind wondered, "Does she not think he has this and she really wants to rule it out or does she think he might have it and wants to know for certain?" Later, when she asked me a specific question about ADHD and whether it runs in our family, I wondered if she thinks THAT is his issue.
The worst that can happen is that the psychological tests show that there is nothing clinically wrong with G, that he just needs to mature or that this is just.his.prickly.personality. Should that be the case, I have determined that I will likely resume therapy for me. If there is nothing clinically wrong with him, then I need some supportive measures to help me cope with the time it takes for him to mature or to learn to deal with a child's personality that I find difficult to contend with.
Although the blogging certainly, certainly helps.
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