Strike Two
by Steve West on November 5, 2010
Brenda and I attended a school meeting today to discuss the battery of assessments needed to properly develop an education plan for Olivia. After hearing the assessments from the primary teacher, occupational therapist, speech therapist and physical therapist, we got to the part that was a stunner to say the least - the school psychologist. After giving her report which mimicked the other reports to a large degree, she informed us that she felt it was time to officially put it in the record that Olivia was intellectually disabled. Prior to October of this year the term was mentally retarded.
This is something that Brenda and I have discussed amongst ourselves but it has never been part of an official report. The evidence was fairly apparent. She's two standard deviations from her same age peers academically, adaptively and cognitively. The education gap she faces is expected only to widen. I asked several questions and tried to respond to questions asked of me while Brenda wept quietly beside me. My primary concern was not in avoiding such a stigmatizing label, but to understand the implications of the term on an educational level. Her education program will remain unchanged. Her primary diagnosis is autism. This will only be more descriptive information to Olivia's future educators in Middle and High School to assist them in meeting her needs.
I withheld any emotion at the time because Olivia needed a sober listener to the facts. I cried later when thinking of this little child, who already has a huge strike against her being confronted with another burden. What can I do more? How can I help her to be an independent adult when I can't be there for her any longer? What am I not doing now? The one thing that won't change is how I feel for my baby. I am truly thankful for the heart I've been given to know that my feelings of love and obligation are unchanged since the day she was born. I love you, sweetheart.
One Reply to Strike Two
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
Halloween Is For The Dogs
Last year for Halloween, I took all of Lauren's stuffed dogs and sewed their mouths to parts of my shirt and pants (with fake bleeding cuts on my arms and face) and went as an attack dog trainer. This year, I need to adopt or at least rent a dog so I can dress it like this for Halloween. Holy Kibbles & Bits Or this... Go »Asking For A Friend
Have you ever created an amazing Excel spreadsheet, but then been disappointed because almost none of your family or friends cared? 8) Go »Odds & Ends
Yesterday, Lauren and I went to Toby's Dinner Theatre for her birthday and saw Happy Days, the musical. I was never a big fan of the series but had seen enough of it to get the inside jokes and references to the old sitcom. A few of the groaners included not seeing Chuck for a few years now, the Fonz not being the same since he jumped the shark and Richie commenting on his usual ability to solve problems in just one-half hour. Go »Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas
My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Go »Bunny Revisited
My father-in-law (Norm), whom I adore, went through an emotional ordeal dealing with my mother-in law's (Bunny) illness over a lengthy period before she died in 2016. One of her doctors approached Norm and suggested he write a journal as a coping mechanism. After Bunny's death, the doctor asked Norm to allow himself to be filmed talking about his experience while writing the journal. Go »
Scott Hardie | November 6, 2010
Your family has been in my thoughts all day, Steve. Olivia did win something in the genetic raffle and that's having you and Brenda as wonderful parents, and I don't just mean that as some flattering platitude. You're both determined to see her get the very best support that she can, which is what this diagnosis will help to achieve. I wish the best for her and for all four of you.