Posts in month: August, 2009

Did you have any fears when you were a child?  Were you afraid of the dark?  Were you afraid of clowns?  Did you have a secret fear?

Have you grown out of it?  If you have, do you get a fleeting twinge even now if you experience the situation that bothered you as a kid?

How did you overcome your fear?  Did you face it?  Or did someone force you out of it?

My son Max is 8 years old.  When he was 1 and starting to walk he experienced dogs for the first time.  Not just small dogs but to him big hulking dogs.  His aunt has always had several of them running around her place.  Just imagine being a small toddler and having these brutes coming at you at full gallop.  What are they going to do to you?  In reality they are lovable dogs and they just want to lick your face and play with you.  But as a 1 year old, how do you know that?  Max would scream in fear.  It didn’t help that he was allergic to dog saliva so his face would swell and his eyes would shut up from all the licking.

Needless to say, Max developed a strong fear of dogs.  He doesn’t have a problem with other animals.  He can ride horses, elephants, and camels.  He loves cats; the big ones he doesn’t jump away from even though they are behind glass.  I’ve seen so many children still afraid of them even though they are protected.  He has played with tarantulas and had snakes coiled around his arms.  It’s just dogs and even though he is 8, the fear is still strong in him.

In the last couple of years it looked like he was getting better.  If he was at his aunt’s house the dogs would initially bother him but by the end of our stay he would be playing with them.  But even with this, it still seems to be getting worse.  He and I used to hike in the woods.  We would meet occasional dogs and he would jump behind me until they were passed us.  But as time has worn on there seems to be more and more dogs and more time he spends hiding from them.  In fact he uses any excuse not to hike with me now.

I’ve been told time and again by doctors and other people that he will grow out of it.  You know what?  It doesn’t bother me that he has this problem.  I understand how these fears can get inside of you and won’t let go.  But what bothers me are the people who say “Max, get over it!  You are a big boy now!”

His aunt with the dogs is one of the most vocal about it.  Her problem is that she has to make an extra effort to keep the dogs away when Max is around.  And she constantly lets us know about her displeasure over the situation.  “Max, it is very selfish of you to prevent the dogs from going where they want to; it is their house!”  When she says this he just wants to crawl away and hide.  Many times he’ll just sit in the car.

Some people surprise me.  Yesterday we were at my sister’s house.  She has a pit bull; a sweet little thing who is supposedly more afraid of people than they are of her.  Max won’t even get out of the car unless she is locked away.  My sister seemed to understand; she has always been quick to defend his fear.  But yesterday it was different; she started saying the same things as his other aunt. “Get over it Max.  You are being selfish and I am not going to keep locking her up.  It isn’t fair to her!”

My response to them is “stop inviting us over if this is a problem”.  A very real fear comes from within.  Something that bothers a very young child and stays with them is much harder to get rid of when they are older.  Will Max get over his fear of dogs?  I have no doubt he will.  Once we can get passed the point where he sees himself as a toddler again when the big dogs show up then he will lose his fear.

I know how that works.  I had fears well into adulthood.  I had a very bad fear of the dark.  Up until the age of 39 (I’m 54 now) I couldn’t go into a blackened room.  I had to sleep with the lights on.  Then over one weekend I discovered that in those instances I went from being a man to being a small child.  For me this was a major turning point.  Today I don’t need lights to maneuver around a room or go down into the dark basement.  In fact now I am much more comfortable without the lights.  Excuse me, don’t turn on any lights while I am sleeping either, they are a nuisance!

So I understand Max’s fear.  I also know there is going to be a point when he really doesn’t need that fear anymore.  And frankly, it will take a much longer time for this to happen if people keep making insensitive remarks.  Max tends to dwell on his fears enough as it is.  When people say things it makes him feel worse and he runs those words over and over in his mind.

How about you, are you over any of your childhood fears?  What did you do to banish them?

I just came from a wake.  I hadn’t seen the woman in a good 15 years but since she was the mother of a close friend of mine I couldn’t miss it.  It brought up a lot of memories; most of them surrounding my multiple sclerosis.

I first met Chuck in 1987.  Though we had both worked for the same company since 1979 it was quite large and we were in separate locations.  Our groups were merged in 1986 but since I was always working at distant clients we didn’t meet until the department threw a party for him celebrating his upcoming wedding.  At the end of the night he ended up giving me a ride home.

In August of 1989 I was sitting in my office when suddenly my eyes unfocused.  They actually felt like they moved in different directions.  My left eye went left and my right eye went right.  It was scary.  I went to the hospital and they wired me up, doing EEGs, EKGs, and MRIs.

The end result was they believed that I might have multiple sclerosis.  But their decision didn’t come from their testing even though they thought they might have seen an old lesion on my brain; MS lesions tend to come and go.  They based the diagnosis on the following:

1. My sister was diagnosed with MS in 1987.  Hers has always steadily getting worse.  At the time she was using a cane to walk.  MS can run in families.

2. In 1974 when I was in college I was getting a strange feeling in my fingers and toes which I thought was numbness.  My then girlfriend took me to the infirmary where they stuck pins in me to see if I could feel them.  Because I could they decided it wasn’t numbness and put my problem down to either resulting from fatigue or I was imagining it.

In 1989 they believed that my MS actually appeared in 1974 but it is a disease that doctors will sometimes watch for a few years before they make their diagnosis.  I later went for second and third opinions before I accepted it.

A year later I lost the use of both my hands and this is where Chuck came in.  It happened in the middle of a work day and I needed to get to my neurologist.  Since I couldn’t get there on my own I needed a ride.  Without hesitation Chuck volunteered to take me.  He didn’t know what the problem was; I had only told my boss about my condition.  On the way back from the doctor’s office I decided to let him in on my secret.; I felt he deserved as much.  He told me he had guessed that was the problem while he was in the waiting room.  Several weeks later my hands recovered but until then he was my chauffeur.

From then on he couldn’t do enough for me.  If he called and I happened to mention that I was on my way out to mow the lawn I would find him already doing it for me.  This was no simple thing; he would drive the 5 miles from his house after loading up his lawnmower.  Everything he has always done for me has been for free.  He would never accept gifts or cash for anything.

If you ask him today why he will do all of these things for me, he will tell you that it is because I got him a job.  The problem is that I did this in 1996 when he was out of work and needed to support his wife and kids.  But he has actually been going out of his way to help me since 1988.  I don’t push it; maybe he doesn’t consciously know the reason.

I am at times grateful for what he has done for me.  At other times I get irritated.  Unlike my sister who is now wheelchair bound my form of MS is all internal.  I get the “funny you don’t look sick” if I even mention that I have it.  It bothers me at times to have other people doing my work for me.

Whatever, Chuck has been a very good friend.  Missing his Mom’s wake was never an option.  It was 3 hours round trip to the funeral home but it was worth it.  He even seemed surprised to see me.  We hugged, his wife and I hugged, and she made me promise that our families would get together.  I said some prayers for his Mom and then headed home feeling good that I could give a little back to him for all that he has done for me.

I stopped at my Mom’s this morning.  As usual she had a lot of suitcases for me; I left with over a dozen of them.  Ever since she heard about this organization, Suitcases 4 Kids, she has made it one of her missions to collect as many as she can find.  I pick up 4 or 5 whenever I stop in.  Today was the mother lode!

Why does she have so much interest?  The organization’s goal is to supply suitcases for the 510,000 children that are in the foster care system in the United States.  These are the kids who are constantly on the move from hospital, to foster home, to group home, and hopefully to a family that keeps them.  And they move with all of their belongings stuffed into garbage bags. This is their life.  Suitcases help to boost their self esteem; they are not throw away kids!

Mom finds it amazing that there are so many children like this; and this number doesn’t include those that are homeless.  In her day these kids would have been absorbed into their families  She herself had several cousins that grew up with her when their parents could not take care of them anymore.  As a result I also had cousins living with us when I was growing up.

There was a time when families could do this.  Hillary Clinton once said that “it takes a village to raise a child”.  In those days  people could take care of their own.  Grandparents, parents, and children lived in the same home.  Uncles, aunts, and cousins lived next door and down the street.  Today no one lives close.  I have two friends that live in Massachusetts but each has family in California; a lot of my wife’s relatives are in Canada.

So where do these children go?  To state facilities; as more and more families break apart more buildings spring up to take care of them.  Just today Mom was telling me that her town is trying to build a small mental hospital just a couple of doors from her house.  The neighbors are up in arms about this and they are trying to fight it.  So again, where will these kids go?

The interesting thing is that this hospital will replace several Section 8 houses that no one even knew were there until now.  These are government-sponsored affordable homes for low-income families and individuals.  The neighbors are using horror stories that they’ve heard about these homes to try to stifle the hospital.  They are fighting to keep these places even though they hate what they’ve heard.  As I said to my mother, “they want to keep the devil they know rather than the devil they don’t.”  I don’t know who originally said this but it really fits here.  But don’t get me wrong I am not saying I believe the hospital is bad; the neighbors are afraid their property values will go down.  Apparently this is more important than our kids!

On a side note, Eunice Kennedy Shriver just died.  Today the Kennedys are having a public wake on Cape Cod today.  No matter what people’s personal or political thoughts are about them no one can deny that the Kennedys have done a lot for the disabled, homeless, and other disadvantaged people.  For example, Eunice started Special Olympics in her back yard.  Maria Shriver, besides being the First Lady of California works with Alzheimer’s.  Caroline Kennedy works with the homeless.  Ted Kennedy has sponsored many bills to help the disabled.

And now we have this small foundation, Suitcases 4 Kids who is looking to help foster care children as much as possible.  They would like new or lightly used suitcases, backpacks, and duffel bags.  Every day in her travels my Mom keeps looking.

If you have any please don’t hesitate to help these kids out.  The website gives locations where to send them.  Mom has it easy, she finds them and loads them into my car, and then lets me worry about how to get them to the foundation.

My 8 year old son Max gets a lot of services through the Department of Mental Health.  He is eligible for them because of his diagnoses.  These include bipolar disorder, adhd, pdd/nos, odd, ocd, high anxiety, and sensory integration issues.  Because we have been receiving all of these services we have been trying for months to get a meeting together to make sure that everyone is working towards the same goal.   That is, improving my son’s standard of living.

I just came from that meeting and it was interesting to say the least.  Before it happened we insisted that either my wife’s counselor, Max’s play therapist, or both be present otherwise it would be a waste of time for us.  When we arrived this morning both surprisingly were there especially since it didn’t look like their schedules would match.   Also there besides us 4 were our family therapist, Max’s mentor, their supervisor, and the caseworker who was leading the meeting.

Before we started the caseworker had to make the point that he didn’t know that the play therapist was going to be there.  Apparently it was going to change the dynamics of the whole meeting, whatever that meant.   The supervisor piped in that we were there to discuss why we were dissatisfied with their services.  My wife and I looked at each other in shock; we never said we didn’t like the services, we just wanted to make sure everyone had the same goals.  To that end we had wanted the play therapist involved since she works with Max directly.

Once we got this straightened out we could then start the meeting.  The play therapist talked about how Max has a major problem with limits and the word “No”; either can set him into a tirade that can be physical and/or verbal.  She says that when this happens she sees a totally different boy than the one she is used to dealing with.  When she starting working with him in October she thought that his parents were too lenient but she finds that today in August they are stronger and more consistent.  When he explodes he must spend time on the couch until he calms down.  If he gets violent Dad will hold him until he settles down.  She sees a lot of improvement.  She has been working with him on accepting boundaries.

The family therapist talked about how she originally had intended to work with the whole family but Max wanted all the attention on himself.  It made it very difficult, so at his parents’ request she started working directly with them to help them learn to communicate with each other and become more supportive.  She believes that there has been improvement.

Max’s mentor says she goes with the flow.  They do things that he likes to do such as basketball, bike riding, or swimming.  In the process she has been working with him to accept “No” as an answer.  She will say “no” to minor things; he will grumble and may ask a second time but that’s it.

My wife’s counselor talked about how she is worried about Max’s parents.  She would not only like to see them communicate more but they also need some rest; raising Max is exhausting.  Our caseworker jumped in at this point and thanked her for bringing him to the subject he most wanted to discuss.  This is “respite”.

For months we have been talking about getting rest for Mom and Dad on the weekends so we will be more able to take care of Max during the week.   It would also help our own relationship; as the therapist said we could start dating again.   This was a timely subject since my wife and I were actually falling asleep in the meeting.

Respite is kind of a sore subject.  It was first brought up in January when our caseworker mentioned a children’s home that has kids living there permanently.  On weekends it is available for families to drop their own kids off to give everyone a chance to relax.  It is a structured environment with programs that are not only fun but teach the children how to manage their behaviors.

My wife was excited; I told the caseworker at the time I didn’t like it but I would do it for her sake.  I didn’t want to be separated from Max; I felt that we should be doing things together on weekends, if not as a family, at least as father and son.  That’s the way it was when I was growing up.  He took that to mean I wouldn’t do it at all so the idea got shelved.  It came back up in May so we went for a tour of the facility.  It had a lot of things Max loves like a weight room, basketball court, and a bike track with bicycles.

When we first mentioned it to him Max was excited especially when we took him just to see it.  What made it better for him was that one of his friends lives there so he would have someone to play with.  He was all set to stay overnight but we decided that a few hours the first time might be better to ease him in to it.

He stayed 4 hours the first time but he wasn’t too thrilled with it.   When we arrived a counselor promised him bike riding but then couldn’t find a key to the bike shed.  He agreed to a second try the next week.  That day it was raining so he ended up spending 6 hours in front of a TV set; Max doesn’t like watching for more than 10 minutes at a time.  He was very quiet and subdued when he got home and very clingy.  We scheduled 1 more trip but cancelled at the last minute when Max refused to go.   This was in June and we haven’t tried since.

So the subject came up again today at the meeting.  They insisted forcefully that we try it again.  We insisted just as forcefully that we would not drag him kicking and screaming to the place.  We have gone through this before and yes, as they pointed out, it works out sometimes.  Going to his school was initially a disaster but he grew to love it.  But you know what, his first trip to the hospital was not pretty.  He didn’t get used to it and this is where his anxiety levels initially skyrocketed.  The home gave me a little bit of the same feeling; I can only guess how he felt.

Anyway, we’ve decided to try it again.  We are going to schedule an overnight this Friday night.  This time we won’t drive him; Friday afternoons he spends with his mentor so she will get him ready to go while they are on their outing.   The family therapist will meet them and drive him there.  She will stay for an hour or so to make sure he settles in.  On Saturday his mentor will visit him and see how things are going.  At the end of the day we’ll pick him up.

My wife and I have a lot of concerns but we are willing to try it; not only for ourselves but for Max as well.  The caseworker has promised to call the home to voice our concerns.  That is, that my son is not getting what he needs. If they are going to watch television all day let him do arts and crafts at the same time, this will settle him.   Take him to the gym, he needs muscle work to relax.  If it a sunny day take him outside, he needs the sun!

With that everyone at the meeting was satisfied that everything was accomplished.  It was adjourned and we all left for home.  But as I write this my concerns about respite are resurfacing.  I’m not coming up with reasons not to do it as the caseworker suggested.  I want this to work for both Max and my wife.  And no I don’t believe that Max will not be affected by this as he also suggested.  Today is Wednesday, Friday is the big day, I will take a wait and see attitude.   If it doesn’t work out I’ll be looking for something else.  If it does it will be great for all of us.

My boy Max decided Sunday morning to sell some of his extensive video tape collection.  There are a lot of them he will never watch again such as the Sesame Street ones.  At 8:30 he had set up 3 tray tables side by side at the edge of our driveway.   Behind them he placed a green deck chair.   On top he stacked 24 tapes with a can behind them to put the money collected.  On the front was a sign that read “$1 each”.  Down on the corner he put a large sign that said “Movie Sale.  Starts at 9:30.”  He originally was going to put “9:30-4:30″ but I knew he wouldn’t last that long.  I convinced him that if he just specified the start time he could quit whenever he was ready.  But he couldn’t sit alone.  The closer it got to 9:30 the higher his anxiety level got.  He needed someone sitting beside him; it wasn’t enough that I would be mowing the lawn near him.

He has been trying to get into sales for some time now.  Like other 8 year olds he has gone the lemonade route.  He has also tried selling some of his toys in a tent on the front lawn.   He graduated into sales from buying.   He will buy anything; just the thought of buying something makes his day.   The things he gets hold his interest for about 5 minutes after he gets out of the store.

We never minded buying him little things, a pencil or pen, a super ball, or even a balloon.  When he started wanting bigger things we tried redirecting him.  I didn’t mind so much getting him rakes, shovels, or hammers.  I mean, I can always use those things but it was really time to teach him about money.

He has learned that we are not going to buy, buy, buy.  If he wants something he is going to have to earn the money to get it.  But how is he going to do this?  Sure, when I am working in the yard he joins me because he knows there are certain things I will pay him for doing.  He gets $1 for every leaf bag he fills up, whether it is with leaves, lawn clippings, or branches.

Since there aren’t a lot of things he can do around the house he started looking for other ways to make money.  He loves yard sales; if he sees one he has to go to it.  Neighbors who have them tend to give him the things he likes or charge him a small amount for them.  He has tried different things to make money and today was time for the videos.

Max has a problem with anxiety.   He has been diagnosed with high anxiety; it appeared during his first hospital stay. Before this he could play in the backyard for hours; since then someone always has to be with him.  It didn’t help that when he became a cub scout he had to learn all about what to do if a stranger approaches.  He can’t even call his friends; his Mom has to do it.

At 9:30 at the start of the video sale Mom was on her way to church. Before she left she had to stop and show him how to set them up. Max had just stacked them up this way and that. People would have to sort through them to find anything they liked. She set them up in categories, displaying each to make them easier to find.

While she was doing this the first car drove by. It turned around and parked across the street. A couple got out and crossed over. As they looked at the tapes they asked if there were any “adult” tapes; I mean PG and R rated. We had to tell them there weren’t any; they were all children’s tapes. After they left Mom found some more mature tapes Max could sell as well.

He waited a long time for someone else to come by. There were a lot of people that slowed down to check out the tables but they kept going. Finally a neighbor stopped over. She couldn’t find anything she liked but she gave him a donation anyway. His first “sale”; Max was excited.

Then we waited and waited. As time went on the more disappointed he became. His visions of making lots of money were disappearing. I explained to him that he was getting good experience but there were some problems. First, we live on a quiet side street so it is difficult for people to know that we are even here. Second, it is Sunday morning; people generally either got to church or spend a relaxing time reading the paper. The best time to sell would be Saturday morning when everyone is out getting things done. Especially in the summer when they are looking for yard sales; traffic picks up quite a bit on our street then.

I went back and sat on the house steps behind him. There was a bush in front of me that partially obscured me from the street. We are only two houses down from the main road and as I watched in that direction I saw a noisy small nosiy green Toyota drive passed. A few moments later it turned into our street coming from the other direction. As it came in front of our driveway it slowed down. There were 3 young men in it. They started checking out the table as the driver put the car in park.

As they started out of the car the driver finally noticed me sitting on the steps. The others were still slamming their doors as he sped off down the street. Later I met another neighbor of mine and mentioned the car. He and his wife had been out walking. He said the car had passed him a couple of streets away. He remembered wondering what they were doing in our neighborhood; they seemed out of place.

To be honest, I haven’t understood Max’s anxiety until now. Sure I have my own but maybe it was because I am not part of it. I mean I can sit on the stairs and watch him do things. But it always seemed like there would be no reason to be anxious if I were with him. That has changed for me. I think about those young men and I wonder, did they want to steal Max’s videos or were they more interested in stealing Max? I now don’t have a problem being around if he is outside; I want to make sure he is okay.

Max finally packed everything up and went indoors. He has discovered selling is hard work; especially if there are no sales and you are very anxious the whole time. Maybe we’ll try again on Saturday.

My son Max is 8 years old.  On Monday he started his first job.  This is not unusual in our family.  I started working when I was 7.   In neither case were we forced to go out and make money.  It was our own decisions to do what we do.

Max didn’t start out expecting to work; he wanted to ride horses.  When he was 3 years old his aunt gave him a book about them; every page was about a different one.  We had to read the book over and over to him and in no time he knew all about 50 different horses including his favorites: Belgians, Shires, and Clydesdales.

When I was 7 I got my first job…working on a horse farm.   Every morning I was up early cleaning out the stalls, feeding and walking the horses.  My pay was room and board and an occasional ride.  When Max started reading about horses he wanted to meet them.  He would be in heaven if he also got the chance to ride one so we started looking for festivals that had pony rides. He was ecstatic just sitting on them and he wanted more and more.

About this time I discovered that the farm I had worked on was now running therapeutic programs so I looked into getting him riding lessons.   They were willing to teach him but since he was only 3 he needed to have a disability or disorder to be accepted.  This was not going to be a problem; he had already been diagnosed with sensory integration disorder.  For the next 8 weeks he went twice a week to learn how to ride.

Then one day as he was having his lesson he saw another horse suddenly rear up and cause the rider to fall to the ground.  She didn’t get hurt but she was shaken badly.   This was enough to change Max’s mind.  He was now very afraid of horses and didn’t want to go near them.

Over the next few years he slowly came around. He has been riding horses, ponies, camels, and elephants at fairs and circuses.  I’ve also talked to him about how I’d love to see him work on a farm like I did. So the thought was in his mind even as he was diagnosed with adhd, pdd/nos, odd, and bipolar disorder.  Whew!

We have been working with the Department of Mental Health in our area to set up programs for him and they recently informed us they have a summer program at a therapeutic farm not far from us.  We mentioned it to Max and he was ecstatic.  Yes, he wants to do it!

Now for the month of August he is expected to be at work at 9 a.m. but he has convinced me to get him there by 8:15 so that he can help set up for the day.  This means mucking out all the stalls, and feeding and saddling the horses.  After that he rides, walks the horses, and brushes them down.  Like it was for me, the riding is his payment.   He loves it, and so do I.  He would move to the farm to be there night and day if he could.   I’m glad to see it; therapeutic farms have proven to be successful helping kids with disabilities and disorders.

So I get up in time to drive him off into the country; the farm is in the middle of a large forest.  I pull in to the parking lot and we pile his gear on top of one of the picnic tables.   Then we wait until one of the farm hands or coaches comes to fetch him.   They have learned to expect him early and tell me they enjoy having him help them prepare for the day.

Today he had a massive headache and we had to pick him up at noon.  He cried all the way home.  We knew it must have been painful because he never cries.  But he was also crying because his day was cut short.  I wonder if that means that I will have to get him there even earlier on Monday.

Max has a particular pony that he is in charge of.  He doesn’t like to be away from him and feels he is not taking care of him if he isn’t there.  So today has been hard for him being at home.

If he continues to love horses like this he will thrive at the farm.  Who knows where he will go with this.