The summer so far

 Janey started summer school today.  I'd like to tell you how it went, but I really have no idea.  She went off on the bus happily, and came home in a fairly good mood, but the time in-between is one of those black holes we as parents of kids like Janey face.  There was no note in her backpack.  I don't know who her teacher is.  I know where the school is (it's not her regular school, as all high school students with special needs go to summer school in one place) but that's about all.  If I don't find out more tomorrow, we will make some calls, but it's a tribute to my general faith in the Boston Public Schools that we are sending her at all, I think.  Of course, we asked Janey about her day, but that has not once in her 13 years going to school yielded any information.

The summer up to this point?  Average, I'd say---not that each day was an average day, but it hasn't been an especially good or bad summer.  We've had some very hot days and some weirdly cool days---the 4th of July featured the same high temperature as last Christmas did---and we've had a good deal of rain.  We've taken Janey for a lot of car rides, but as so often happens in the summer, I don't feel like we've done enough else.  We've played in the driveway a good deal, which mostly means Janey runs around holding her iPhone and listening to YouTube videos.  She has watched "Toy Store 4" probably 100 times.  She's eaten lots and lots of food, luckily, mostly very healthy food, which is why she is able to eat from dawn until dusk and beyond without severe weight gain.

Sleep has been a problem.  As Janey gets older, it's one area that is more of a problem than it used to be.  Just tonight, she's been awake, asleep, awake, asleep and now awake, all since 7 pm, and it's 11:30 now.  There have been lots of nights without any sleep at all, on a couple occasions, two nights in a row.  To us, it seems impossible.  I truly just don't know how she can do it, without napping during the days.  Other times, less commonly, she'll sleep most of the day and most of the night.  Her sleep just doesn't seem to have the pattern that most everyone else's sleep has.  And that would be fine, except we really can't sleep when she isn't sleeping.  We can catnap, but she wakes us up often and we never sleep deeply, as we really need to keep an eye on her.  We are thankful she's isn't in any way an eloper.  Our house has a front and a back hall with doors, so kind of an airlock, but I'd say in all her years she's only ever gone into the halls even without us once or twice.  So we don't worry about her escaping, but more about her dumping food around or having toileting issues or tossing bowls onto the ground for fun (a recent new hobby)

Janey did have a filling done under general anesthesia last week, which went very well.  She was happy and cheerful even going to the dentist, which to me spoke to how bored I worry she is at home.  I feel guilty over this boredom, but it is so very hard to get her interested in anything new.  I think I'd go out of my mind watching the same movie over and over, or taking car rides to nowhere for hours, or listening to the same music over and over while running up and down a driveway.  But when I try very hard to introduce a new move, or when we try to take her for walks around the neighborhood, or to play some new driveway game, or just to shake things up a bit, she is not at all interested.  Maybe it's us, because she certainly seemed to enjoy going to the dentist and to school.  But still, I feel a huge amount of guilt over her limited range of entertainment.  I know I've written about this before, but it's on my mind so much.

Janey will be 17 next month.  That shakes me up.  When I was 17, I left for college.  17 was the start of my adult life.  For Janey, 17 will probably be much like 16, or 15, or 5.  Does that matter to her?  Is there any way I can find out?  Is Janey happy with her life?  Does she think about what her life is, what she wishes it was, what it can or can't be?  Is it enough that most of the time now, Janey is fairly content, or is there more that we should do?  Does she long for more?  There are so many things I don't know about Janey, although our lives are intertwined so closely.  How I wish I could ask her so many things---starting with the little things, like how school was today, and leading to the big things.  Until I can, if I ever can, I feel a huge weight of obligation to make the right decisions, to provide the right enrichment, to protect her when needed, give her freedom in the little ways I can, to make her life meaningful.  I hope I can do even in a small part what she deserves.

What Community Means

What does it mean to be part of the community?

I got a list of summer camps today.  There were hundreds listed.  Janey would be welcomed at none of them.

When searching for after school activities in this area, a big urban area, there are almost none that would accept Janey.  One great exception, which is not close enough to home for us to utilize it, is the Boys and Girls Club.  I wish the one with the fantastic sounding programs was not about an hour's drive from us in afternoon or evening traffic.

A younger Janey and her brother William, in front of our house

The city is full of plays, stores, concerts, museums, restaurants, movies----almost none of which I could take Janey to.

There are lots of wide open spaces around here.  Might be great for Janey---if not for the dogs off leash that run up to her, with well meaning owners saying "Oh, he won't hurt her!  He loves kids!".  Yeah, but Janey is terrified of your dogs, and that makes her unable to use yet another public place.

So, sometimes when I think about including Janey in the community, I get discouraged.  Or I laugh a bitter laugh.

This would be much harder to take if it were not for the fact that in our own little neighborhood, we have found community.

Our neighbors on both sides are wonderful people, people that delight in Janey.  When Janey screams outside, or laughs manically, or just is her own unique self, it means the world to me that I know she is accepted and understood by those living closest to us.

Anyone who has read this blog knows about Janey's love for the "ice cream store", a store that is currently a 7-11, although it's changed names a lot.  We go there almost every day.  She is always welcomed by the staff, and increasingly, by the regular customers.  I can't tell you how many little kindnesses she has been shown there.

The closest few grocery stores know Janey well, and go out of their way to make our shopping with her not only possible, but fun.  One of the workers at the local Shaw's Supermarket has a grandson with autism, and has actually given Janey presents and always gives her a hug.

Janey's new bus aide lives in our neighborhood.  She walks over every morning to ride the bus with Janey, and her sweet, kind nature makes our mornings.

We have a little bubble here, a small world where Janey is truly included in the community.  We have often noticed that she is more accepted here even by people who don't know her than she is in many places.  Our neighborhood is working class.  It's never been gentrified, and probably never will be.  It's not a fancy place.  And perhaps that's part of the reason it's accepting.  People here are not necessarily living the American Dream, defined strictly.  There seems to be more room in their worldview for those who might not be following the script of "good schools, good college, good job, nice house, good vacations, comfortable retirement".

So what does community mean?  It means a place where you are included, where you are accepted and valued and allowed to be part of the action.  We might not have a community in the sense of formal things like camps or lessons or culture, but our neighborhood has made Janey a community member, and that means so very much to us.

I wish the whole world was open to Janey.  In an ideal world, it would be.  But for now, it's good to have our own little corner of reality where Janey is part of the community.

Every Morning is a Triumph

I just got Janey on the bus, at 6:15 am.  As I walked in the house, I was beating myself up a bit.  Her hair wasn't as I'd like it, she had sneaked some onion and garlic chips and her breath betrayed that, she had on two different gloves, her hastily picked clothes were not the greatest look for her...it was not my finest early morning parenting day.  But then I defiantly told myself---NO.  Getting her on that bus at that hour was a triumph.  It was the kind of triumph all you parents of other kids like Janey have every day.

It was a triumph Janey got a full night's sleep, and woke up without protest.  Sleep is not something any of us take for granted.

It was a triumph that I got Janey dressed.  I felt guilty thinking how I should be insisting on her dressing herself more in the mornings.  But doing so would necessitate getting up about an hour earlier.  We are on a very tight schedule every morning, and I'll take her cooperation over her independence when it comes to quick dressing any day.

It was a triumph I did her hair at all.  I know there are a few tangles.  I hate that.  But as I worked to brush them out, Janey screamed and had the look in her eyes that let me know that if I kept going, there was no way on earth we'd be getting on that bus.  So I resolved to brush them out before bed tonight, and I did my unskillful braid hairdo, and we called it good enough.

It was a triumph I brushed Janey's teeth well---twice.  She allows a thorough brushing without complaining.  The second thorough brushing came after she found the chips while I rushed to get dressed myself.  I think she might still have a little onion and garlic breath, but so be it. I am glad Janey eats breakfast at school, but a little chip appetizer isn't a huge deal.

It was a triumph that Janey left the house with a coat, a hat, a scarf and gloves.  The gloves were two totally different gloves, both right hand ones.  They are approximately the 30th pair of gloves she's had this winter.  She doesn't keep track of things like gloves or scarves.  If I were to buy her a matching set every time an old set disappeared, our entire budget would be spent on gloves and scarves.  So finding two to put on is a win, a triumph.

It was a triumph we were on the sidewalk two minutes before the bus arrived, and Janey was happy.  I had to grab my phone at the last minute so I could put on the SpongeBob songs she currently needs while waiting.  If the connection had been down or if I hadn't been able to immediately locate my phone, we would have had a problem, to say the least.

It was a triumph she got on the bus on her own, and sat in a different seat than usual, as I saw the aide tell her to.  She is like Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory"---she doesn't care for being made to sit in the wrong place.  But she did, without protest.

It is a triumph that she is off to school.

I think those who teach kids with autism understand the triumphs that every successful morning include.  To anyone else out there who might not, when you see Janey, hair not looking perfect, gloves unmatched, hint of chips on her face, when you see that, keep in mind the triumphs it took to get through the morning.  To the other parents like myself---here's a coffee toast to you. May you have many, many small triumphs today.

When Mama Gets Sick

I don't get seriously sick a lot.  I better knock on wood when saying that, as that is what I used to say about Janey.  This winter hasn't been an easy one health-wise, and last week it was my turn.  Starting about last Sunday night, I had a fever that got progressively worse, lots of coughing and all out body aches.  On Wednesday I finally gave in and went to the doctor (thank you, Maryellen, for getting me there, literally and figuratively!) and a chest x-ray showed I had pneumonia.  The doctor was quite sure I also had the flu, but because of my probable Sjogren's Syndrome, he wasn't able to get a swab for that.  Either way, I was pretty ill.  He gave me antibiotics and said to stay home and stay resting for at least 5 days, although I'd probably be tired and recovering well past that.

Today's been 5 days, and I do feel much, much better.  Still very tired, and doing any little thing makes me need to take a nap, but so much better that is makes it almost worth being sick, to remember how good well feels.

The big, huge thank you here goes to Tony, for taking over all of my Janey duties.  Being sick in bed with a child like Janey in the house is not easy.  Last Monday, before we realized how sick I was, I got Janey off the bus, around 3, and took care of her until 4:30 when Tony got home.  That hour and a half was about enough to do me in.  It made me realize what a house of cards we live in.  Janey needs full time supervision, every second, still now, even though it's easier than it was a few years ago.  But with me barely able to move, she made a wreck of the kitchen getting some of her favorite unconventional snacks---things like ketchup and romano cheese and duck sauce.  She came off the bus wet, which isn't common, so I changed her, which took almost all I had.  Then within a few minutes she was wet again---another change.  Then she had a toileting accident of the other kind---lots of cleaning up.  I felt like I was going to collapse, and I did, when Tony got home.

The rest of the week, Tony just took over.  He got her on the bus in the morning, which involves dressing her, giving her medication, brushing her hair and teeth, getting her something to eat (they have breakfast at school, but we always feed her at home too as she doesn't eat well at school), making sure her backpack is set, waiting for the bus with her---all that while he was getting ready for work himself.  Then he came home early each day to get her back off the bus, took care of all her afternoon and evening needs, made supper for her and us...did it all.

My thought all week was how much I admire single parents of kids like Janey.  I won't say what I've sworn never to say---"I don't know how you do it"---but I will say you are incredible for doing it.  And that I hope you get support, and I wish I had millions of dollars to help you, or at least time to give you respite.  Parenting kids like Janey is at least a two person job.

How did Janey take my illness?  Quite well, actually.  One thing that was kind of neat is I got a little of the Daddy treatment.  Seeing me, after Tony got her off the bus and fed her and so on, seemed like a huge treat for her.  I haven't really gotten that in the past.  She came into the bedroom and had a huge smile on her face, and gave me a big, big hug.  She was excited when I could haul myself over to snuggle with her on her bed.  She was actually a sweetheart all week.  If it had been a tougher week for her, as so many weeks are...well, I'm glad it wasn't.

I've got to sort out in my mind some realizations from this week.  Mostly, I have to think about how easily everything could fall apart.  If either Tony or I started to become more disabled from the health issues we already have, it's hard to picture how we would be able to take care of Janey.  And the truth is, we will, at some point.  Even without our on-going health issues, we are getting older.  But as we've found so often, there's not a lot out there to help.  We are grateful, as we always are, for her school.  Tony couldn't have worked at all last week without school.  I think next year I have to bite the bullet and find some kind of afterschool that works, if possible.  And we have to start looking for that needle in a haystack, perhaps---some way to get Janey more care when she is an adult and we are...older too.

For now, I'm just happy to be on the mend.  I will be glad when this winter is over!

Sickness and good news

Tony keeping Janey entertained as we wait for the orthopedist

First, the good news!  We took Janey to her appointment with the orthopedics department at Mass General.  They said she does have scoliosis, but it's mild enough that we can just wait and see for now.  They said more than a 10% degree of curve means you have it, but it's only at 25% that they start doing bracing.  She's at 12-15% right now.  So we go back in 3 months, and hopefully, things will stay as they are or get better.

Janey was out sick on Monday and Tuesday from school.  She had a cough and cold, nothing severe, but enough to keep her home.  She rarely gets sick.  Of course, she had the Big Sick with the burst appendix last spring, but her staying home for a little sick day has hardly ever happened.  She was in a pretty good mood, and we had a couple of quiet days at home (except for the appointment!)  By Tuesday afternoon, she felt a lot better and was restless.  It seemed like one of the first times I've seen Janey bored, although she doesn't have the words to say that.  But she kept coming up with ideas---"go outside to see Daddy!"  "go for a walk!"  "take a shower!"  She wanted to see Daddy when it was hours from the time he comes home, but we did take a little walk in the bizarrely warm December weather, and she had two showers.

Today was back to school, but the bus never showed up.  Tony had told the driver she'd be out until Wednesday, and the driver said "Okay, see you Wednesday", but somehow, no-one showed up today.  We've had a great driver this year, so we were surprised.  Janey was not happy.  She kept saying "Want to go on the bus?  Want to go on the bus?"  Finally I came inside and checked the GPS tracking, and saw the bus was at her school.  I had already tried calling the hotline for buses, and h ad been on hold for about half an hour, so I called the school, but was told I'd just have to call the hotline.  I then called her teacher, and asked if somehow a message could go to the driver that we hoped tomorrow he'd pick her up.  I called the hotline again, and this time got someone, who said basically "Oh,  yeah, they didn't get her.  I don't know why"  Very helpful.  So I drove her to school, although now the illness had hit me and I had been up most of the night with a sore throat.  Complain, complain, I know!  Janey did well with the change of routine, and it was nice to get to see her teacher and an administrator of her program I've known for a long time who had been out on maternity leave.

I asked on the Facebook group page about other girls with autism and sickness.  It seemed like a mix---some girls get sick a fair amount, but others are like Janey and rarely get sick.  The ones that rarely get sick seem to have a very high pain tolerance, as I think Janey does.  I've seen that pattern with a lot I've read about autism---either a child is sick all the time or hardly ever sick.  I think personally it has to do with autoimmune issues, which is my working theory as to what probably caused Janey's autism.  I think she has an autoimmune system on high alert all the time, so much so that minor illnesses never see the light of day, and that at some point, this affected her brain.  But I am no doctor, and I don't believe in any one cause of autism.  I think that's the case in Janey's particular situation because our family is riddled with autoimmune disorders.  Almost everyone on either side of the family has at least one---diabetes, asthma, Raynaud's Disease, thyroid cancer ---and I have been suspected of having several---Sjogren's Syndrome and early stage scleroderma, in addition to whatever stopped my thyroid from working.  So Janey would come by it naturally.

In speaking of sickness, I do worry about what would happen if I ever became chronically ill, from an autoimmune syndrome or something else.  I don't think I will, but if I did, or if Tony's diabetes became worse...that's a scary thought.  Janey has no understanding of anyone else's illness.  She counts on us being healthy and able to help her.  It's part of a house of cards situation.  If either of us weren't able to care for her, I just don't know how it would work out.  We deal with that worry by just hoping it doesn't happen.  When Janey gets off the bus in a little bit, my sore throat and low fever and aches just need to go to the background.  There's no other choice.  And of course, somewhere in my mind is always the thought that someday, Tony and I will be gone.  That is the black hole of thought, where I just can't go.  What happens then?  To keep living our daily life, we have to put aside some thoughts and just keep on keeping on.

So---I'm off to have some tea and Motrin and await my sweetheart's arrival home.

The first week of school

Janey has finished her first week of school, and so far, pretty much so good.  The start of school is almost always a good time for her.  She has a honeymoon period every year, where I am sure her teachers think "This is the girl I've heard so much about?  She's a piece of cake!"  Things often start collapsing around mid-October.  I feel like I'm being negative to say these things, but the pattern is pretty unmistakable.  But we do enjoy these early weeks!

The bus comes around early, around 6:30.  Janey's sleep hasn't been perfect.  Last night and 2 nights ago, she woke at 3, never to go back to sleep.  It is amazing how she never seems bothered by that lack of sleep, whereas Tony and I are very much bothered by it.  She seems to wake in the same mood she went to sleep in, and she's been cheerful lately, so she wakes up cheerful and ready to start the day, oblivious to the fact it's dark out and her parents seem oddly unresponsive.

Janey's school runs a little longer this year than last, as they have added 40 minutes to the school day.  She get home on the bus around 3.  So far, she's hopped off the bus in a good mood, which is always nice.  Her first act after getting home is to fling herself on her bed, and the next is to take off her shoes and socks.  Then, she eats.  She eats and eats and eats.  She gets school breakfast and lunch, but she doesn't much like them.  We've tried sending in food, but she never eats that either, and in Boston, school food is free, so we figure she might as not eat free food as paid for food.  But she gets home hungry.  It's amazing how much that girl can put away and still stay slim.  She's gained back the weight she lost being in the hospital, but she's still quite slender, despite eating like a sailor.

The one problem so far this year was a report on Friday that she had hit the bus monitor the day before.  We think the issue was that they put her in a seat next to another kid, not by the window.  Janey loves almost any length of car or bus time, as long as it keeps moving and she can look out the window.  It's a testament to what you can get accustomed to that we didn't get really that upset about the hitting report.  I don't want her hitting anyone, but we have learned as the years go by there isn't a lot we can do to stop it.  We of course tell her over and over that she can't hit people, and she can recite that back with a voice that sounds sincere, but when the urge hits her, she hits.  The best we could do was to tell the bus people that a window seat would be best, and they listened and are now putting her by the window.  I think everyone learns after a while with Janey that it's often a lot easier to modify her surroundings than her behavior.  I feel like this summer, we finally really learned that lesson ourselves.

Janey doesn't tend to learn anything academic at school.  I have pretty much accepted that.  It's not for lack of trying, and of course, who knows what she is picking up and not showing that she is?  If she is happy at school, the truth is I honestly don't care if she learns academics.  What I do care is if she is frustrated trying to learn things she just can't learn.  I have more doubts about ABA all the time, in Janey's particular case.   I don't think it's worked for her, in just looking at what programs she was being taught at the age of 4 and now at 11.  They aren't much different.  She is not motivated by ABA, or by any rewards she is given by it.  If she wants to know how to do something, she learns it near instantly.  I showed her only once or twice how to push the "3" on the TV remote to get it on the right channel for videos.  She shows no sign of knowing which numeral is which under normal circumstances, but boy, does she know that 3.  She knows which song is on which CD in the car, and what order they are in, and the lyrics and tune for every song, I truly think, that she has ever heard.  Those are the things she cares about.  I wish I could make her care about learning to read, or, as I sometimes suspect, make her show that she already CAN read, but, and I am seeing a theme here, you can't make Janey do a lot she doesn't want to do.

So, another school year has started.  It's strange, with Janey the only child home, but otherwise, it feels pretty familiar.  My main hope for the year is no hospitalizations of any kind---that Janey can attend school all year without interruption.  I think that's a reasonable goal.  As the years go by, we become more rooted in reality.  Acceptance isn't just a catch word, it's the only real way to stay sane, I think.  We accept that Janey is who she is.  We try to respect who she is, and work with who she is.  Like with any child, we rejoice in parts of her personality and despair of others.  Trying to change a child, a person, any child, any person, is an exercise in futility.  That's the biggest piece of knowledge being a parent of three very different, very intense, and very cool kids has taught me.  Work with what you have, and love them as they are.

A Stronger Word Than Stress

As I was thinking about yesterday, I was trying to think of a word I am not sure exists.  What word could describe a feeling that the word "stress" doesn't seem to cover?  What word is there for a day that felt like more than the mind was designed to take?  I am not sure.  But I know if such a word did exist, that many of my fellow autism parents would like to use it, because I know I'm not alone.  We deal with uber-stress on a regular basis.  We all have our ways of dealing with it.  I will write about my day, because other options that start to seem desirable, like hard core adult beverage time or getting in my car and driving thousands of miles away are probably not productive.

The day started with Janey getting on the bus.  She seemed happy enough.  However, as soon as the bus got to the school, her bus aide called to say she had had a very, very tough time during the ride.  She bit herself, hit him, got on the floor of the bus, screamed---all of her routine when she is completely out of control.  He was shaken, and made the suggestion "Maybe she needs to go back to the hospital?"  I don't blame him for having that thought.  I called her teacher, to see if I needed to go get her, and the teacher called back to say she was okay at that moment, and indeed, she made it through the day, with a few screaming periods, but she made it.  Needless to say, however, I spent the whole time she was at school on tenterhooks, waiting for a call that things had gone badly south.

After school, we had an appointment with Janey's psychiatrist.  This was the appointment that Bradley Hospital made as a followup.  They had said it was for the day after we got home, but something got messed up along the way, and it was actually a week after we came home.  When checking in for the appointment, I happily took out our brand new MassHealth card, the card that I had thought Janey qualified by means of being disabled, the card that would help us with co-pays and therapies and from many of the stories of hype I'd heard about it, would basically open a world of help up.  I had always resisted getting this card.  Partly it was that I didn't want to ask for help, but partly it was because I have a huge fear of bureaucracy.  But I was reassured it was a GREAT thing to apply for, nothing but good, and when the card arrived, I allowed myself to feel hopeful.

Well, the staff tried to add the card to Janey's record.  They made some calls and then looked at me with huge alarm.  I didn't totally understand what they were saying, but basically they said the card was for PRIMARY insurance, not SECONDARY, which seemed to make a huge difference.  We already have primary insurance for Janey, our family Blue Cross, and this state insurance was supposed to be a supplement, but from what they were telling me, it had been processed somehow as "family assistance" and that meant we had two primary insurances for her, which from the looks on their faces, was a Very Bad Thing.  They said I needed to immediately call the number on the card and get everything straightened out, or Very Bad Things would happen.

So I went into Janey's appointment feeling terrified about that.  I think the psychiatrist could see we were at the end of some very long rope.  He asked how Janey's behavior was since coming home from the hospital, and we basically said it was pretty much no better.  We wound up discussing a new medication, the long considered "mood stabilizer"  I won't get into the whole ins and outs of it, but basically there seems to be quite a bit of conflict in the psychological world about what would usually be termed bi-polar disorder, and whether it possibly might be something Janey might have.  I am not up to thinking about all the debate, but I will say it's long seemed like Janey has manic times and depressed times.  At this point, we are ready to try something new.  How she is right now is not a way I would want her to have to live long term.  So---we will be trying this new medication.  It will require careful monitoring at first, and I have to say at this point my hope levels aren't great, but we will try it.

So---after all that fun in the day---a breakdown on the bus, a huge insurance snafu and a new possible diagnosis for Janey of a major psychiatric disorder---I thought I would cap off the day with trying to call the Mass Health people.  Of course, there was a half hour hold, and of course, once I got someone, and again was on and off hold for half an hour, the phone somehow got hung up.  I was on the cell phone, and I don't know if it was me or him.  But that truly did add a needed final touch to my day of the word beyond stress.

All that was left was Janey screaming a lot at night off and on, and hitting me hard a few times.  She fell asleep about eight.  Tony had been out getting William home from college.  The day ended listening to my two amazing boys joking around and discussing world events.  I was able to fall asleep by pushing aside until today the day's worries.  I listened to them talk as I drifted off.  Even the toughest day has moments that are golden like that, and I need very much to keep remembering that.