My four eyed baby.

BabyGirl is nearsighted. Apparently this is uncommon in six year olds. Most kids her age are farsighted. And the way I understand it, she's only near sighted in her right eye. It's about 20/40 or 20/50. So glasses it is. Mainly for board work at school. Her glasses will be exactly like mine (the frames in the pic are the right shape, wrong color. Ours are burgundy). Illinois Medicaid (while I am eternally grateful for it) needs to refine it's optomical guidelines. They had 2 frames to choose from. These & a flimsy wire frame. And they take a full month to come in!

She's not particularly happy about the idea of wearing them...or at least she wasn't until it came time to tell people about them. "They look really cute on me, Pa." She's right, they are adorable!

Oh, and she doesn't like the new jeans I bought. This could get bad....

Whoops.

I think I may be neglegent. BabyGirl is 6 1/2 years old & had never been to the eye doctor. I got a letter from the school nurse this weekend saying she's failed 2 vision tests & we need to get her checked. So March 3rd, she's off to the eye doctor. She's not happy with the prospect of glasses.

Tomorrow we go back to finish up our eval with Miss Emily. I'm actually excited.

Forward Momentum

It feels so good to be able to write something postive here. To write that we have finally entered into the beginning of evaluation if not treatment.

The OT came yesterday to talk to BabyGirl at school (I didn't find out until breakfast this morning). The OT came back to see her today. The OT called me. I was happy. The problem is she cannot touch BabyGirl without a diagnostic code. State rules that they are trying to get changed. Even if we get a diagnosis of SPD, she still can't do much as it's not recognized by the mainstream medical community. But she said she could treat her if she can list her as "other health impaired." My concern was, would this lable her & stick her in the Special Ed class? She doesn't need to be in Special Ed & I really don't want her there. I have no issues with Special Education, it's a much needed program, but it's not where BabyGirl needs to be. Miss D assured me that would not happen.

She told me to call our Doctor's office & have them order an outpatient OT evaluation. I called the doctor & left a message for his nurse. We played phone tag for a while. I called the OT's at the hospital to be sure they dealt with kids & SPD. Great news: there's a new OT starting Monday who has worked extensively with pediatric patients. That also means she should be very well versed in SPD. I called the doctor's office back & they're going to fax an order to the hospital to have them evaluate BabyGirl.

I am so relieved. We are getting somewhere. This ball is rolling. Thank the Good Lord Above!

Get behind me, Google...Updated

Grace, I took your advice & stayed away from the Internet...at least as far as SPD goes. I did read blogs, but did no research & did not once Google anything about sensory issues. It helped a great deal.

I have come to a conclusion. I need to open my mind up to other possibilities. I need to let go of my death grip on SPD. That may very well be the problem. I still think it is the problem. But I need to accept the fact that it may not be the only problem. There may be an underlying cause. If I don't come to terms with this now, I could be in for a very hard time later on.

I called the Special Ed coordinator yesterday at the suggestion of BabyGirl's principal. I had to leave a voice mail & haven't heard back from her yet. If she doesn't call back by this afternoon, I'll try again. I also haven't heard back from Doc's office about Riley's. That's two calls to make.

After that, I promise to either sew something or read a nice piece of fiction having nothing at all to do with child development.

*****

Updated at 3:24 pm- I called the Special Ed Coordinator at the school. She was in meetings all day yesterday & couldn't get back to me. She is sending the OT to do an informal evaluation of BabyGirl & then they'll get ahold of me. I explained a little to her about the situation because I'm not sure how much BabyGirl feels comfortable telling people right now.

After that, Doc's office called me. They talked to Riley's about us seeing a doctor in Evansville (which is an hour & a half from us) as opposed to driving the three hours to Indianapolis. Riley's said there was no sense in BabyGirl seeing a doctor until she'd been tested. They want her to see the school's OT. After that they'll determine if more testing is needed & possibly send us to Easter Seals. I'm assuming this means Riley's wants to explore SPD before they start testing for medical problems.

And just so you know, I've been reading Lady Susan by Jane Austen all day. If you click on the link, you can read along. Pretty nifty.

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.