Thursday, April 14, 2011

Day 13.

Guess what today was? Yep! Wednesday. It was horseback riding day. And if you look back at my post from last week, you'll see just how much Vicki loves horseback riding days... from the braids in the morning to putting her boots and velvet riding helmet on in the car afterschool.  But here's the thing, I'm going to let you in on a little secret, autism or not, children are unpredictable. There's the good unpredictable. There's the bad unpredictable. And then there's the autism unpredictable. One thing that I can count on is that I can never count on anything. Just because it's good one day, doesn't mean it will be good the next. And just because Vicki has a good day at school, doesn't mean she will have a good day at home afterschool, and vice versa. I've noticed that's it gotten harder and harder to predict how Vicki will react in any given situation. I used to have some mommy guidelines that I would check off like a list in my head... things that might set Vicki off, things to avoid if possible, things that would always be on Vicki's most wanted list. But not so much anymore. I can infer. But there are no guarentees.

Before I get back to the horseback riding fiasco today, I want to give you an example of what I'm talking about. Last fall I had to take Vicki to the doctor's office by myself. (insert shudder here) Now, I've had a little bit of practice with this. And history tells me that the doctor's office is not her most favorite place to be. So, I had my bag of tricks ready, literally, I had my bag of reinforcers ready to go to get her out of the car and into the waiting room and then from the waiting room back to the scales and then from the scales back to the examination room. I never used to think about how many pit stops you have to make when you are at the doctor's office before you reach your final destination. Now, even the shortest of transitions can seem like a mile when your child is in the middle of a tantrum. And don't forget to insert ample wait time too. But oh my goodness, Vicki did amazing that day! I was getting ready to do my happy dance, and here comes the kicker.  I actually stopped holding my breath when the appointment was over. I assummed we were free and clear and I was so so so proud of Vicki. I felt like we had just won a gold medal in the doctor's office olympics. I was getting ready to give Vicki her medal, well, sticker. And then it happened. It caught me off guard. As we were leaving, she threw herself onto the ground in front of the door. And when you are holding her hand and she drops, and you are not ready, it can knock you on your ass. Both physically and emotionally. I won't go into all of the details. But after 30 minutes of a lot of crying, from both parties involved, and a lot of sweating, and a lot of muscular endurance, I got her to the van. I didn't say in the van, just to the van. After another who knows how long because of some very strategic positioning from Vicki, (have you ever tried to pry hands off of the top of a van and feet off of the bottom of the van for someone who can be as rigid as a piece of steel? It's not easy...) I got her in the van. I sat in the backseat with her, closed the door, and cried. I was shaking for I don't know how long. Thinking back over the incident, I knew I was worried for Vicki's safety (making sure she was not in the middle of the street while she was tantruming, making sure she didn't hit her head on the concrete when she threw herself around), But one of the things that scared me most during that specific tantrum, was that I had a moment of pure, terrifying panic, wondering IF I could actually get her in the van by myself. What kind of a mother does that make me if I can't even safely put my child into the van after a doctor's appointment?  Believe me, I tried a lot of different techniques and tactics that I had accumulated over the years to help Vicki through her tantrum, but sometimes, she just reaches the threshhold where there is nothing you can do but wait it out and let her deescillate herself. And, unfortunately when you are out, sometimes you have to push her through more quickly for safety reasons.

So, why did I launch into this story? Oh yeah, the fact that Vicki is unpredictable. The thought had not even crossed my mind that LEAVING the doctor's office would be the challenge. One of the things that frustrates me the most, is that as I was laying in bed that night, trying to figure out what went wrong, what I did wrong, etc... is that all I can come up with is more questions. Never any answers. (I do have a hypothesis about that day though... she had asked for the 'doctor' earlier that day.. btw, they found that she had an ear infection and gave me a prescription to get filled for her. I think she had a good idea, from when she was in the hospital last May, that doctors make her feel better. That is a wonderful concept for her to build on and have in her repetiore. HOWEVER... I think she was upset because she still didn't feel good and they were sending her home. And there was no medicine. So even though I kept showing her the prescription, I had not anticipated that reaction, so I didn't have anything else to help her understand. Telling her that we were going to the pharmacy to get her medicine just didn't help her.) And to make my emotional state that day even more fragile, I still get panicked when I can feel others eyes on me. And that's all it was, eyes on me. There were no less than 3 dads in that office that day, along with the entire nuring staff and doctors. I know that everyone had their own things to attend to, but I just felt like they were all peering out the window, watching. I'm sure they weren't. And if someone had come up to and asked if they could help, I'm not sure anything they would have done would have helped. But, sometimes, it's just nice to be asked. Even if I tell you, no thanks, i have it. It's better than feeling like someone is going to call the police on me. That has been a serious concern of mine. Having people think that I am hurting my child or abducting a child. It makes me sick to my stomach. There was a time a few years ago when Vicki's catch all phrase was, 'help me' and she would yell it in a loud whiney voice. We were hiking in the mountains one day with all of the kids and she kept yelling 'help me' over and over again, at the time it was just a verbal stim, but how would other people know that. If I heard a child yelling help me, help me... I would take a second look. I would hope anyone would. I've actually spoken at great length with the police officer that comes to our house every month to change her project lifesaver battery. The sheriff's dept has flagged our vehicles so if there is ever a report called in, then the officer can look up our plates and see that their is a child who has autism and project lifesaver listed and proceed cautiously, armed with that knowledge.

Uggg... back to horseback riding today. I wish I knew what set Vicki off. It could have been something very insignificant to someone else, but to Vicki, that little thing out of place, could easily tip the scales in an instant. To go from laughing and smiling while the horse is galloping with her, to yelling and throwing herself down in the sawdust in front of the horse. And yes, throw an unpredictable animal into the mix, you betcha I was scared. Why did Vicki fall apart? Was it because the instructor was asking Vicki questions that she couldn't understand? And Vicki really does like to do well and get things right. So when Vicki heard 'no', could that have upset her? Was she just mad that her lesson was over? Was it too loud for her? She kept holding her ears toward the end of the session. Was it because she was told to dismount the horse in a different place than usual? Usually it's inside of the ring, today it was outside of the ring. So, just a change from the routine? Or was she just irritable? Whatever it was, it made me sad. Sad to see her so upset. Sad that I didn't know what she needed. Sad that this one day a week that she is usually elated, she had a hard time. Sad that she can't tell me what is going on inside of her head. Once she fell apart today, it was really hard to get her back. Off and on the whole trip home, she was crying. Then when we got home, she was crying. It took quite a while for Vicki to settle down. She wouldn't get out of the van when we got home. She kept saying 'no home.' Then she would ask for 'medicine'. Did that mean she didn't feel good? Or did that mean that's the next thing she wanted to do on her schedule because medicine is right before bed. And maybe she just had enough and wanted to throw in the towel on today. Then she got confused and indecisive. I know she doesn't even know what she wants. But eventually we work through it and she even does her homework.

Boo. I didn't want Wednesday to be bad for her today. And when we talked about her favorite part of the day, today it wasn't horseback riding, it was pink, purple and green marshmellow bunnies from school. At least she told me what made her happy today. What made you happy today?

When the dog bites,
When the bee stings,
When I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

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