Autism: Surviving and Thriving

Fourteen years ago my youngest 3 boys were diagnosed with autism within a 9 month span. Devastation and grieving followed. Doctors gave me little or no hope, but they didn't know me very well. I refused to believe that my boys were doomed.

My boys are now young men, adults with autism. They are thriving, but every day presents its turmoil and challenges.

My family: husband Mike, sons Ryan 23 yr, Nicholas 21 yr, and Cameron 18 yr. (Ryan and Nick have autism; Cam has recovered from autism.) Our oldest sons, Michael 34 yr and Stuart 25 yr, moved out of the house. Ryan has also moved out, and is still working towards complete independence.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Dean's Debut

My grandson, Dean, was born this morning. He is 21 inches and 8 pounds.  Good size; healthy boy.  Yet, I cringe.  With a new life, there are so many dreams.  No one wants to think of disabilities and shortfalls.  However, I have to admit I am concerned about a lurking disability in his future.  I have talked with my son about potential dangers that could trigger issues, but "it" is still an unknown.  Since our sons' lineage showed no inherited disabilities, we had very little concern, but BAM, four of our boys were hit.  Stuart had a speech delay and speech impairment.  Will his son have the same?

Of course, I'm not bringing this up to anyone at this time, but it is a thought in the back of my mind.  I am not the parent.  I really can do nothing but watch.  I can coach my son.  Maybe give advice if he asks, but I can take no action.

After four boys with special needs issues and constantly in active mode, this is different for me--being quiet in the background. I've learned to speak up and quickly.  Sometimes loudly.  Often repetitively.  I could be in the doc's office or school meeting.  The squeaky wheel gets oiled!  If I spoke up, gently but assertively, my boys usually received what they needed.  Being quiet usually yields nothing.

For now, we enjoy the birth of our first grandson, and quietly I will have to rely on a little bible verse: Matt 6:  33-34.  33"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 34"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough troubles of its own.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

No More IEP Meetings!

Today Mike and I attended our last IEP meeting. Yippee!  I counted 47 IEP meetings, at least, since 1997.  Two of our younger four boys had varying disabilities, ranging from speech impairment to autism.  Both of them, Stuart and Cameron, have sufficiently progressed to function as neuro-typical kids!  The other two, Ryan and Nick, still have autism, but their progress is no less remarkable!

So what is an IEP?  Basically, it's a written contract in which educational goals are written for the individual with special needs.  Its focus is to educate the individual person, geared towards the issues and abilities of said person.  IEP stands for individual educational program.

These meetings can be stressful and grueling, or they can be uplifting and reassuring. HA.  They are usually grueling.

The participants are comprised of teachers, a psychologist, therapists, parents, and student, called the TEAM. Frequently, the school staff discuss the goals of the student before the meeting, though I don't think anyone would really admit to that.  When the meeting commences, the goals are already written.  If the parents agree with those goals, there is no problem.  If the parent disagrees, then PROBLEM.  It can become a battle or a downright WAR.

Sometimes our meetings would last three hours, and we'd have to postpone any conclusion.  Those were horrific.  Our child's needs were not being addressed appropriately, and as parents, we had to ensure they were.

And the paperwork!  I have four binders full.

Over the years, I learned that certain vocabulary terms were necessary to get what my child needed.  Also, what one school could do was different from what another school could do, even in the same district.  Some special ed classes were offered only at select schools.  The staff, depending how dedicated to the student, may or may not want to implement other goals.

Quite often, I felt like an intruder rather than a team member.  I always had someone else accompany if possible.  Whether it was my husband or father, having an advocate helped streamline the meeting.

Not all meetings were terrible.  Some could be pleasant, especially if I knew the staff.  Getting to know the principal, secretary, and teachers helped to get my children what they needed.  I volunteered a lot.  That made a huge difference, and my boys prospered.

So with this last IEP, all my boys are moving toward adulthood.  As they transition into the "real" world, my life also adjusts.  There are no contracts with employers or colleges.  I am concerned how my boys will progress, but as always, it's one day at a time.  Seeing how they have succeeded thus far, I am confident they will find their way, and I will find mine.

GOOD BYE, IEPs!

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Cameron's Capers

My youngest has sprouted in the blink of an eye.  It seems as if it were yesterday when we were teaching him how to walk and talk--for the second time.

Cameron experienced a traumatic reaction to the MMR shot, rendering him having to relearn everything.  He also had to overcome issues that did not exist previously.  He became self abusive, and well, there's quite a history, of which I have written previously in earlier entries.

I now look at my son, who was diagnosed at age 2 with autism.  He is now a young man, learning to drive, going to formals, attending honors classes, and looking towards a promising future.  I never take for granted his progress.  I am grateful.  His endurance and strength give many others hope.

Cameron does not remember those tough years.  I remind him occasionally.  He needs to know how severe he was, so he can appreciate where he's going.  I hope to teach him compassion for others as well.  Sometimes, when a person overcomes weaknesses, that person has a difficult time being patient with others who suffer that particular weakness.

I've watched Cameron mature and grow.  I'm impressed with his quiet demeanor and sometimes laugh at his subtle sarcasm.  He's a force to be reckon, so he still needs guidance, as a young man should.