Every Generation Has A Legend. Every Journey Has A First Step. Every Saga Has A Beginning.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Update from Neuro!

Spoke to our neuro tonight at around 7:30 pm, have I mentioned how much we love our neuro! Always makes sure to keep in touch, even after hours! He wants to make sure that he is getting enough sleep and if he continues to be hard to wake up and more spells of confusion to call him back. So back to the waiting game and just to make sure he is not alone at school or anywhere.

Something confusing this way comes?

So here is somewhat of a timeline of what happened at school yesterday.

He goes to his resource class at 8. At 8:58 they send him back to reg ed. He sits down at his desk to eat his snack. (this was the last thing he remembers) His regular teacher was across the hall because he has a student teacher doing "solo teaching" all this week. They had standardized testing in 5th grade so he didn't have resource class on Mon and Tues. He gets up and tells the student teacher he has to go to resource, even tho he just came back. The time is now 9:05-9:10. She says ok and sends him down because he is in and out of her class room at different periods of the day and she doesn't really know his schedule (sounds like she needs to learn it!) He goes down to resource (at this time it is now 9:16) I think he sees the time and his brain "clicks back on" He repeatedly tells the resource teacher "I had to leave at 9" Now he is unsure of himself and says he lost track of time and "Had to leave at 9". My reasoning, and I am NOT a dr and don't pretend to be, is that he had a amnesia seizure of some sort. They have been worried about absence seizures for awhile but we can't get it to show up on EEG. Still waiting to hear from neurologist. Still kind of mad that I wasn't followed up with yesterday. 

Teacher was concerned so they brought him to the nurse and called me.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Welcome to Holland!

Every parent of a special needs child has run across this essay by Emily Perl Kingsley. It sums up the "surprise" of having a special needs child when you are planning the birth of your child.

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Sistine Chapel, Gondolas. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting. After several months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland!” “Holland?” you say. “What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.” But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It’s just a different place. So, you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around. You begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. And Holland even has Rembrandts. But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.” And the pain of that experience will never, ever, ever, go away. The loss of that dream is a very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.