When a step forward feels like a step back.

This blog is mainly for me. I know, I know, I invited you all along for the ride, but the real reason I'm here is to organize my racing thoughts. I need a place to center all the chaos swarming around me. I need that badly.

The doctor's appointment did not go as planned. I should be clear & tell you exactly how I saw it all going in my mind. It's actually very ridiculous, but I have a penchant for the melodramatic. Have you ever seen A Christmas Story? You know the scene where Ralphie writes the essay about the Red Ryder B.B. gun for school? When he turns it in he has a delusion that the teacher weeps over the beauty of it all & his classmates lift him up on their shoulders in celebration. Yeah, I'm a little like that.

My thoughts didn't run quite that high, but it was pretty bad. I saw myself eloquently explaining all BabyGirl's issues while Doc sat in rapt attention and the light bulb coming on over his head when I uttered the words Sensory Processing Disorder. He would then immediately make an appointment with the best OT in the area for an evaluation & demand it be no later than tomorrow. He would be totally on board with my theory & BabyGirl would begin her therapy & road to recovery tomorrow bright & early.

Instead it went more like this:
Doc: So, how are you ladies today?
Me: Well...we're OK.
Doc: What seems to be the problem?
Me: We think BabyGirl may have a Sensory Processing Disorder.
Doc: (after a moment long slightly confused stare) I don't think I've ever heard of that.

I attempted to explain it to him, but I think my description fell pretty short. He wasn't real keen on the idea of sending her to an Occupational Therapist immediately...it all sounds a bit fishy to him. I totally understand the feeling. It sounded fishy to me when I first began investigating it.

Before you start sending him hate mail (which I'm sure you want to do right now), the man is a good doctor. He's caring & conscientious. He did not blow the theory off, he's just never heard of it. Kind of hard to diagnose someone with a completely unknown (to you) disorder.

He is sending us to Riley's Children's Hospital in Indy soon. They're going to set up the appointment for us. Doc wants BabyGirl seen by specialists to rule out any skin conditions or other issues. He's right. That's exactly what needs to happen. I know that....it's just not what I wanted to happen. It's not the pat answer I had in my mind. He's not ruling out SPD, but he does want to send her somewhere where she'll be treated completely.

In the meantime, since my gut is still saying this isn't a behavioral problem and it's not an allergy, I plan on calling the principal in the morning to ask him if the school system has an OT. If so I want to talk to him/her about BabyGirl. There's no reason we can't pursue both ideas at once. I'd hate to put the idea of SPD on the back burner only to run the gauntlet medically to find nothing when we could have been working all along.

I came home ill, exhausted, disappointed, & depressed. Art gave me permission to cry with her post from this morning, and Grace gave me very sound & loving advice via email. I read both exactly when I need to read them & got out of them exactly what I needed to get.

Now I think I'll call it a night...and leave the worry for another day.