Last Monday I braved the heat and ran to our mailbox to see what gems awaited me. Another “exclusive” credit card offer? AT&T U-verse trying to persuade me to buy what we already have? Yet another EOB? I opened up the door and found a big manilla envelope addressed to “The Parents of Jake (Our last name)”. I opened the envelope and was greeted with a cover sheet reminding us of Jake’s upcoming appointments. There were quite a few forms, as well. I was glad we got it with plenty of time to spare, and yet, my heart sank at the same time. I know how difficult this is going to be for us, for Jake.
Not only do Hubz and I have our forms, but Jake has to do a self-assessment. With his reading and processing issues, I’m not sure if he’ll be able to fill them out on his own. I’m not sure if I should help him…or let him do it himself. I guess I’ll have him fill it out in the room while I’m around, in case he has any questions. I will try to help him understand the question, without influencing his answer. This is a new hurdle, as all of Tate’s evaluations were done prior to age 6, so we just filled them out.
Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in GroundHog Day… Something’s just not right with our kid. We talk to the school district. We fill out paperwork. We meet to discuss our a-typical kid. We devise an IEP to address global delays. We’re encouraged to get an outside evaluation. We fill out more paperwork. We get the eval. I scramble like a crazy lady to get everything in order to help our child. Hubz talks me off the ledge. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
On the upside (I’m trying to stay upbeat, here), we will start the school year with a clear diagnosis and opinion. Our neuropsychologist is phenomenal and gives parents pages of resources. The hospital with which she’s affiliated has several supports…and has a dedicated resource line for parents to use to find help. We’ll get through this, as always….and hopefully we’ll have some concrete answers as we head into Jake’s third grade year.