Friday, September 30, 2011

60 Seconds to Death

 It has taken me a week to be able to write this post, and once you have read it, you will see why.  When you have a child, most new parents do everything they can to be prepared for anything and everything, and you honestly feel you are ready to tackle whatever life throws at you.  When we were pregnant, my husband and I took infant and toddler CPR classes, as well as Heimlich maneuver classes for pregnant women (you can never be too careful!). 

     Nine long years came and went, without anything more serious than a slightly sprained ankle, which happened fairly recently.  So, a week a go, we were eating dinner, and Teagan (as usual) was eating way too fast and talking while he was doing it.  About halfway through his hamburger, he starts to cough, or so it sounded to me, so I told him to get a drink.  After several attempts to get a drink, and it coming right back up, my mom alerted me that he was choking.  He wasn't holding his throat, and because of the sounds he was making, it did at first sound like he was coughing.  I began doing the Heimlich maneuver (not realizing until that moment just how unprepared I was to perform this maneuver on a child, having only ever seen it done for a pregnant woman, and I was on the receiving end of the demonstration).  After about 20 seconds of this not working, I jerked him upside down one-handed (which is quite a feat, because he weighs over 75lbs), and nearly beat the stuff out of his back.  Nothing happened.  So I turned him back upright, and resumed the heimlich maneuver. 
     All the while, what's going through my head?  Why is my mom not calling 911 (we were having dinner at her house that day), what if I can't get this thing out of Teagan's throat, what if he passes out, will I be able to remove it, and perform CPR properly?  Oh, and OMG, not to mention that just recently there was a news story about a couple on a cross-Atlantic flight, and the man choked on his dinner and died, even with medical staff on board, and his girlfriend had to ride with him for over 7 hours until they were able to land.  If medical staff could not save him, why do I think I can do any better for my son?  Because this thing in his throat, whatever it was, was really pissing me off, and upsetting me, and making me panic for the first time in my life, and I was going to kick it's ass.
     And after 60 seconds of battling, literally for my son's life, that thing (which ended up being a 3 inch long piece of hamburger) got its ass handed to it.  And then I had a 2 day mental and emotional breakdown. 
     The lesson learned?  I obviously need to find a Heimlich maneuver class, and take it every year for the rest of my life.  And also, why the hell do they not teach you how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on a child during these infant and toddler CPR classes?
     Hug your children every day, and cherish every breath they take, because the one time they are not able to draw breath will literally scare the hells out of you.  Be prepared, be hyper-vigilant, and force them to eat smaller bites and chew 100 times.  Seriously.
     Below, I have included a link on how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.  Please take a few moments to view it, and at your leisure, look up videos showing how to perform this very useful and lifesaving technique.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Autistic Anger - The Final Frontier

     *sigh*  Well, it's been awhile my AOTA victims, and there's really no valid excuse for it, other than we have been dealing with the mother of all mood swings this last month and a half.  It really has been a nightmare.  Constant anger, hatefulness, violent acting out... it's enough for me to want to be sedated.

     It took us four months to find a new therapist, and after one session with the therapist, Teagan, and I, then a second session with just the therapist and I, the therapist tells me, "You need to help him get his behavior under control before a therapist will be able to deal with his other issues."  Are you f*cking kidding me?  His behavior is WHY we are looking for a therapist.  What the hell are doctors good for if they don't do what they are supposed to do?  It is so f*cking frustrating.  I hate the medical profession, or at least everyone we have dealt with these long, 9 years.
     The therapist's suggestion was to try intensive in-home therapy again.  Now, I haven't regaled you all with my horror stories of our intensive in-home therapy debacle.  In September 2008, Teagan qualified for intensive in-home therapy.  We were so excited, but also very busy at that time, so the in-home sessions actually occurred at my mother's house, because she picked him up from school while we both worked, and we would stop by for the tail-end of the sessions once we got off work.  But, like I said, we were hopeful that this was going to help us develop some new much-needed parenting skills to help deal with disciplining Teagan, as well as just general skills such as public behavior control, etc.  This program was supposed to last a maximum of six months.  Now, the specifics were, three  different therapists, three times a week, every week for six months. 
     Obviously, if I described this point in our life as a horror story, it wasn't how it was supposed to be.  It started out all right.  But about a month into it, we lost one of the therapists, either by dismissal or quitting, we never knew.  Then about a month later, we lost another one.  So now we were down to one therapist, who wanted to focus on marriage counseling, more than parenting.  And then around January 2009, right about the time I was laid off from my job, we lost our remaining therapist.  It was about a month or two before we got another one, and she lasted for exactly one session.  We found out later than the one male therapist we had, who Teagan responded to so favorably that I threatened to kidnap him and take him home with us, because he could get Teagan to do things we never could, had actually had visa issues.  He was from Peru. 
     So, off and on, we struggled getting a therapist, then finally about mid-summer, we got the perfect therapist.  And she stayed!  But we weren't getting the three times per week with three therapists were supposed to, but she did come 2-3 times per week, which was good enough for us.  But then Teagan's hours got cut, and we were moved from intensive in-home therapy to community support, though the "community" part was a joke.  The therapist never took him out into the community, so it was just another lie.  This therapy nightmare finally ended in October 2009, and we swore we would never again put our entire family through it.  It was inconvenient, frustrating, and a complete waste of time.  That is not to say that it wouldn't work for other people with other agencies, but this one (I will not name it, I don't even want to taste the words) was a terrible joke.
     So, here we are, still without a therapist, but there is a little hope.  Part of the school program Teagan is in for behavior, requires all children to attend periodic individual and group therapy sessions, with family sessions optional, which of course, we participate in.  I met with the school therapist about two weeks after I learned we had lost another private therapist, and told her our woes.  She gave me some suggestions, but before I could try any of them, the next day, she met me in Teagan's classroom as I was picking him up, and said that she had spoken to the director, and the director had agreed to sit in with the therapist, Teagan, and I, so she could provide him with more in-depth therapy.  How relieved are we?