It Was That Close...

What thoughts flash across your mind as you approach the abyss, the abyss being where one ends up after careening out of control on Deerfoot Trail at 110+ km/hr? I’ve heard people see their loved ones or recall their grand achievements in those last moments; I’ve heard that others pray.

So, driving along, minding my own business and thank goodness, paying attention, the van in front of me, which I cannot see past, suddenly swerves to the right. Directly in front of me is a completely stopped small, dark car (details escape me at the best of times – I can’t even remember exactly where on Deerfoot I was – somewhere between Country Hills and 32 Avenue, I’m thinking.) I swerve to the left, as left handed people do, and think ever so briefly, whew, that was really close, I barely missed him.

I am, of course, headed for the median and in trying to correct, I swerve back into the centre lane – still going – into the right hand lane. Correct again, back over to the median, correct again, back to the right. And again. Not sure how many times this happened – three, maybe four – all in a matter of a few seconds, then back to the centre lane and thank goodness, in control again, clear sailing –  I’m on my way, albeit with my heart in my throat.

In that few seconds of flying around on the freeway, what flashed across my mind? It was not my wonderful husband, nor my fabulous kids, not my beloved grandchildren either. I thought, maybe this is it, maybe I’m going to die – I said words over and over in my head but regrettably they probably formed a swear rather than a prayer. I thought of my dogs and how they would miss me – how bizarre is that – my dogs and not my family?

Then a long-ago warning flickered and I calmly thought, okay, I’m dressed for the occasion – I have on clean underwear. Then to the future – good thing we’re having the winter tires put on the car on Monday, they’ll need to be balanced after all this jerking around. Somehow I thought the car would survive while I would not?

Then I was in control again. No abyss this time. I drove slower, unsteady, not at the wheel but in my mind. There was another tie-up on Deerfoot closer to my destination which gave me time to think, to compose myself. Many thoughts crossed my mind, thoughts of my family and how much they mean to me, and I to them. I thought about getting my stuff in order, cleaning drawers and closets, updating my will, wondering who would want my stash of quilting material, my books.

And I thought a great deal about the recent distracted driving (cell phone) law and was truly thankful for it. I have often talked on my cell phone on straight stretches of road with traffic running smoothly. I know with 100% certainty that, had I been talking on the phone, or even drinking a coffee for that matter, I would not have had time to think about anything…ever again. I would have hit the stalled car. It was that close.

Better But Not Quite Fixed

So proud of my girl – I had the pleasure ?? of attending a parent/staff meeting at her boy’s school today to deal with the angst that was going on in my last blog. Interestingly, it’s against policy for anyone other than the child’s parents to attend such meetings but my girl explained…firmly…that I spend more time with him some weeks than either of his parents and since the school has its team, she was coming in with hers. The principal agreed and made me welcome.

Glad I was there as her team included her, me, and her ex who was basically there for reasons that I’m not going to go into and who offered only a couple of off topic remarks.

My girl talked about using restraints on a person experiencing a seizure, the danger of physical trauma, human rights and legal ramifications and also about the emotional damage to a little boy who needs to move. She passionately explained her boy’s journey to where he is now and how much better a place it is than where he was two years ago. She adamantly professed that no one was going to be allowed to reverse the progress this little boy has made.

She addressed the fears that staff may have and explained that yes, seizures were indeed scary but restraining the person seizing would be far more traumatic both immediately and in the long run than handling the situation appropriately would be. She explained how the situation could be handled appropriately.

A great deal of information was shared – staff, I think, learned some things about seizures and about our boy, and his mom learned that her boy’s program is in place, focused, and geared to helping him succeed. The school team was receptive – guaranteed that restraints would not be used and were sympathetic to a couple of other concerns. With continuing communication, I am hopeful that our little guy will have a successful year.

Then why is it not quite fixed? It isn’t fixed because there are devices remaining in this elementary school that can be used to secure a child to his/her seat. I would like to know what the criteria for using such a device is, not relative to our boy. The use of it was considered in very inappropriate circumstances (our boy) so why exactly is this method of control available and what constitutes acceptable use, if there is one.

What happens when another child whose mom isn’t as well-spoken and outgoing as our boy’s mom is expected to approve tying her child into his/her seat for what is supposedly his/her own safety? What if the mom is too shy or too confused and intimidated or too busy to disagree with the “expert”? What happens if the mom hasn’t done her research and isn’t familiar with her rights? Who takes care of a child who is restrained for no reason other than fear or convenience and who is left to deal with the emotional or physical damage done in the process?

Lost for words...or maybe not...

I haven’t blogged for awhile. It’s been hectic but life is good. Every so often though, when things are going relatively smoothly, something jumps out and bites you in the butt. I’ve blogged before about our bright and shiny grandson and the struggle he has to keep up with the back of the pack. But he does his best, and he does it without tears or complaining – we should all be gifted with his patience and perseverance. He even received an award at school last year based on those very qualities.

But alas, it’s a new year and anyone who works with kids, let alone special ed kids, knows that the key to peace and tranquility is finding the “buttons”, both the ones that create motivation, joy and enthusiasm which you push often, and the ones that can set a child into a tailspin of anger, hurt and bad behaviour, which, if you’re doing your job for the right reasons, you avoid at all cost. There are always those who, for either perverse or ignorant reasons, think that if you push the “bad reaction buttons” often enough and hard enough, the child will give in, comply, become “normal”, and basically won’t cause any problems. Anyone with any experience, wisdom and compassion knows that likely the opposite will happen. The bad button pushers have to win at all cost and the price paid by the children in their trust is high.

It took this grandson awhile to adjust to kindergarten but by last June he loved school, trusted his wonderful teacher and assistant, and was excited to start grade one. His success, as always, has been due to his mom’s bear-like advocacy and tenacity – picture dragging a camel through the eye of a needle – it can be done. Hard work, the sharing of knowledge, strategies, joys and tears, and the excellent team relationship between home and school provided a fabulous start for a small boy with health issues and huge potential.

The goal is to move forward, right? Team planning, transition meetings, a file an inch thick with test results and recommendations from experts at ACH should provide some insight on how to keep this child motivated and learning. Said child has difficulty focusing for long periods due to his seizure disorder and the medication that successfully controls it. His coordination and body strength are low and he tires easily. However he is intelligent, friendly, generous, and has a heart as big as a mountain. A great number of people have worked very hard to encourage his strengths while making unobtrusive allowances for his weaknesses and have been inspired by this quiet, determined, happy little boy.

So, off goes grandson to grade one. He’s excited as can be. Now, barely a month into the school year, it’s obvious to those who love him that we’re losing him both mentally and physically. He is no longer allowed to be independent. Someone holds his elbow whenever he moves, whether it’s the adult in charge or any one of a group of other grade one students recruited to “take care of” our boy. He no longer plays freely on the playground at recess. He refuses to put his shoes on by himself because, in his own words, “someone else will do it for me.” I can only imagine how much has been taken away as he proceeds through his day. He has become tearful and shy; he is no longer very happy. Rather quickly, this little guy is being turned into an invalid, not capable of action or thought on his own.

Then, to complicate matters, there is a call home. One of the specialists involved in our boy’s program recommends that for his own safety, it will be necessary to tie our boy into his chair and secure him in case he has a tonic clonic seizure and falls and hurts himself. This person wants mom’s permission to do so and it seems, is governed by the idea that it’s better to seek forgiveness than permission because according to our boy, the experience has already happened. There is so much wrong with this I’m not going to go into it here but it’ll probably end up in another blog. It should be noted though, that the type of seizure that staff seem desperately afraid of, are thankfully controlled by his medication. He hasn’t had one in over a year, but hey, just in case he does, tie him to a chair? Really?

Or is the seizure disorder an excuse. Is it a matter of wanting to control a small body that sometimes needs to get up and stretch and wander? Is it to impose restrictions on a small boy who thinks and learns and thrives better when in motion? Is it because someone, or a whole team of people, value conformity over individuality in any degree? Regardless, there is no acceptable reason for tying a child to his seat.

I have always been an advocate of public education. I’ve always said, “There’s a real world out there, filled with real people and real problems. Public school is how a child learns to cope as a well informed and well adjusted adult.” However, as our society becomes more and more competitive the survival of the fittest is becoming more and more acceptable. There seems to be less room for patience, for understanding, for leniency, and for value placed on the individual. It is starting at the elementary school level, and it is happening in our boy’s grade 1 classroom.