Advocate like a mother

When so many things are going wrong for my kid, it’s not easy staying positive. Every institution that has been (supposedly) set up to help my kid is failing miserably.  Everything is a battle. Every day there is someone to call or email or visit. Some days I write dozens of emails and scan just as many documents to move things forward for Lily.  Inching forward is more like it.

Thankfully I am not alone. I have an army of people helping me along this battle – from Stephen to Lily’s therapists and doctors, and the other special needs moms – who are in the trenches with me, fighting similar battles, sharing their knowledge, their love and support. But we are outnumbered.

Yet we move forward. With determination and hope. Because we are fighting the good fight, trying to get the most basic of needs for our children met.

The absurdity of the situation (like so many other things going on in this world) baffles me. Here is one such example: We recently saw Lily’s neurologist as she is starting to have episodes that look like seizures. The doctor prescribed a 48-72 hour EEG. While trying to schedule it, I learn that my insurance company will not pay for a prolonged EEG without putting her first through an in-office 30 minute EEG. It is a foregone conclusion that we will not get any answers from this short study; Lily has these episodes maybe once a day. What I do know is that this 30 minute EEG will cause a significant amount of stress for my kid and we’ll have to do it all again a few days later.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what an EEG entails, here is a quick overview:

  1. Walk into a small, claustrophobic room filled with medical machines and a hospital bed.
  2. Get the kid to lay still while the technician glues 20+ leads on her scalp and then wraps head, which takes about an hour. (Many of you know Lily so you could imagine the herculean effort it takes to keep her still.)
  3. Sit there for 30 minutes to 3 days hooked up to a machine.
  4. The technician (who is often slurping on a smoothie or munching on chips throughout the process and sometimes smells bad) removes the 20+ leads and we go home.
  5. The parent then spends 2-5 hours getting the glue out of the kids scalp.

Could you imagine putting your kid (and yourself) through this twice? The first time for no reason other than to tick a box for the insurance company.  So I’m fighting back, knowing it is unlikely that I will win this battle.

So, I am angry.  And scared.  Because Lily may now be having seizures which is why we are doing an EEG in the first place.

But I am also hopeful.  And proud.  Because through it all, my child shines.  She is not easily deterred. And neither am I.  And I know that – given all these crappy circumstances – we have a lot of great in our life.   And some days, I’m actually able to focus on this and suspend my worries about her future.

One of those days to be grateful for… picking flowers, veggies and picnicking with friends at our country house.

 

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A friendly reminder

Please don’t tell me you are “sorry”. When you find out someone’s child is disabled (i.e., has Autism, Rett syndrome, Down’s syndrome, etc.) do not say you are “sorry” – we understand you mean well, but it is incredibly upsetting to hear. Our child is still our child. She has not died and we are not at all sorry she exists. We are madly in love with her. As you are with your child. Every accomplishment, development, laugh, makes our hearts sing! Just as your child’s accomplishments, development, happiness, makes your heart sing. Every tear she sheds breaks our hearts. Just as your child’s tears breaks yours.

Granted, ours is not a life we likely would have chosen. And we have had to drastically shift our expectations (like continental – tectonic plate shifts). And we have had to come to terms with a life completely different than the one we had expected to lead. And it is a challenge. And it is not one we would ever expect you to understand. And it is not one we would ever want you to lead…it is hard. And we are NOT sorry. Our child gives us unspeakable joy and you saying you are sorry about her is heart breaking and painful to hear. We only wish you could see her as we see her and enjoy her as we enjoy her…So do not tell us you are sorry.

Just that.

Lifted, almost verbatim, from Jocelyn Gould Turken, super Mom and autism advocate. ❤️

Lily was featured in this years NYC Disability Pride Parade. This kid is making headlines. And changing perceptions about what it is like to live with a disability. She is my hero.

The to-do lists are endless

My soul is hurting this week. 

I’m still fighting for basic Medicaid services (like diapers, overnight respite, daytime respite) while trying to prepare (and not completely flip out) for Lily starting kindergarten next month. 

I’ve had to postpone our move to the Upper West Side which means she will be in for quite a bus ride to and from school. So I need to make sure it’s as comfortable, and as safe, as possible. I’ve already gotten a doctors note requesting what must happen but trying to find the right person within the DOE to make this a reality is proving impossible.

Good news is that I’ve averted the ‘adaptive stroller’ issue for the bus but that was a research project and fight in its own right. And the fight is only half over. 

There’s always so much to do. The lists I have written down, and in my head, are endless.  So the idea of moving while all this is going on (and I’m not even adding the to-do’s from my job) makes my head reel. 

At the top of these lists (other than bussing and Medicaid) is to get her new school up to speed with her abilities, and needs (they’ve never had a Rett sweetie nor do they have experience with the Tobii), get Lily acclimated to a new school with new kids and new teachers, find a few new home-based therapists to replace those that fall off after pre-k (hint: this is not easy), and remind myself that it is all going to work out. Deep breaths. 

I wish I could say that Lily’s sleep has stabilized but that would be a lie. And the panic attacks, though less frequent for now, are still happening. 

The upside? Lily is keeping me laughing with her silly antics. Yesterday she kept pulling down her Peppa Pig artwork from the wall. Shamekia the nanny initially thought it was an accident so kept pinning it back up. But after the third time she found it on the floor, she asked Lily ‘you don’t like Peppa Pig today?’ And Lily scrunched up her face in a recognizable look of disgust, which means ‘no.’  And then she giggled about it.

Why my child doesn’t like Peppa Pig all of a sudden is still unknown to us. But I love that she is always finding new ways to let us know what she likes, and doesn’t like. 

If we (meaning me, Shamekia and/or her therapists) figure out why Peppa has turned into persona non grata, I will let you know. But for now, I will leave you with a visual of my kid admiring her art wall sans Peppa from earlier today. 

Peppa pig in the doghouse.jpg

Understanding cognition in girls and women with Rett Syndrome

In my quest to find an answer for whether or not to do the neuropsych, I came across this recent article.  Here is a relevant excerpt:

It is extremely difficult to evaluate the cognitive abilities of individuals with RTT as these are masked by their motor, apractic and atactic difficulties, which limit normative evaluation. On the other hand, many research projects have suggested that individuals with RTT are able to learn [18-21], and that the learning skills can be enhanced with appropriate motivational factors [18] as well as that learning is sustained after a ‘washout’ period of the learning program has ended [18]. It is also clear today that individuals with RTT can learn new skills [22,23], including literacy [20,21,24], and that learning ability is sustained in individuals with RTT at all ages.
The article is insightful in many levels and the premise is basically that girls and women with Rett Syndrome need intensive and constant therapy/intervention throughout their lifetime to maximize their quality of life.
I’ve seen the positive effects of intensive intervention firsthand.  And there is now some data to demonstrate that Lily is progressing both motorically and cognitively.  For example, her first progress report for the year has come in and it is the FIRST TIME that the teacher at school has indicated that Lily has made significant progress in a few areas.  It is most definitely because she has a Tobii at school now, and that her teachers and therapists are committed to engaging with her through it.

The importance of genetic testing and Rett Syndrome…

I’ve recently been approached by two families who have concerns about their daughter’s development.  And both have asked me to share our journey to an accurate diagnosis.  If you remember, Lily was given two mis-diagnoses along this journey.  So I’ve decided to dedicate a post for families who are on a similar journey.  if you’re new to this site (you found me through middle of the night googling), please feel free to leave a message below and I’ll get back to you if you have any follow up questions.

Q: I am wondering if you could share with me a little more about your journey to an accurate diagnosis, as well as any providers or evaluations that you felt were significantly helpful?

To me, what was the MOST definite and defining moment for Lily was getting the genetic test results with the Rett diagnosis.  Here are the ‘steps’ it took to get there:

Autism diagnosis August 2012

Lily was talking and social and hitting all her milestones and then BAM.  At around 15-16 months, there was a major regression. The language went away, she became super aloof and disinterested and physically started demonstrating some delays as well.  She was initially diagnosed with autism at 18 months (both through Early Intervention and a private developmental pediatrician).

ESES Diagnosis November 2013

Once we started EI services (she was getting 20 hours of ABA, plus Speech, OT and PT), it became apparent that the autism label didn’t fit.  The words started to come back (and then go away – which is still happening).   She came out of her shell and was social and interested in the world around her again.  We then had a bunch of EEG’s done to try and figure out the underlying cause of her regressions and found out she had a rare form of epilepsy called ESES.  And we thought ‘aha! this is what is causing her regressions’.

Rett Syndrome Diagnosis January 2014

But while she was being treated for the ESES (using high doses of steroids that I had to inject into her leg every day which totally sucked for us both), we got the genetic results back (which we did to see if there was an underlying reason for the ESES).  Rett Syndrome was confirmed.  All her doctors (and she has many) were surprised with the results as she didn’t fit the ‘Rett girl’ profile.  She walked, she had some hand function and she wasn’t having seizures (though she does technically have epilepsy and has epileptic episodes which I’ve been told are NOT seizures).

Q: Who did you work with to get the Rett diagnosis?

The geneticist we worked with was Dr. Marion at Montefiore in the Bronx.  And what was especially great about being at Montefiore was that there is a Rett Clinic there (the only one in the tri-state area, led by Dr. Sasha Djukic) so we were already in the Montefiore system.  It also helped in terms of scheduling doctors appointments as the Rett clinic is open on Fridays and we now just go there once a year and see anywhere from 2 to 5 specialists in a day instead of going back and forth to the hospital to see all the different doctors.
Q: Where are you today?
A Rett diagnosis sucks.  But you learn to live with it.  And knowledge is most definitely power.  I know what I’m dealing with and I can better prepare myself and my child for the road ahead.  And by the way, it’s mostly a happy road we walk.
Q: Is she on a special diet?
Lily has been following the GAPS diet for the past two+ years (though she has pizza on Fridays at school) and is on the growth charts which I believe is because of the healthy foods and supplements she takes (many girls with Rett start to fall off the growth charts by the age of two).  She sees a nutritionist regularly.
Q: What types of therapies does she receive?
She goes to a private special needs preschool where she receives numerous therapies, and has an augmentive communication/speech generating device that she navigates with her eyes (think Stephen Hawkins).  It is called a Tobii.  Actually she has two Tobii’s – one at home (which we own and were able to procure through the EI program) and one at school (which took a year of advocating through the DOE CPSE program).
Here are the services she receives through the DOE, on a weekly basis:
At school:
  • 1:1 para professional for health and safety reasons (this is imperative: our girls cannot self defend)
  • 5×30 Speech Therapy
  • 4×30 Occupational Therapy
  • 4×30 Physical Therapy
At home (she has a ‘dual recommendation’, sometimes called an RSA, and is supposedly impossible to get through the DOE):
  • 6×60 SEIT (Special Education Itinerant Teacher)
  • 3×45 Speech
  • 3×45 OT
  • 1×45 PT
  • 4×60 Assistive technology services (so that the home speech therapist can program both Tobii’s and upload course curriculum to them so Lily can follow along in class and participate).
On the weekends she goes horseback riding through the GallopNYC program and is loving it.
Yes.  It is a lot of therapies.  And yes.  It was not an easy decision to put her in to all of these therapies.  But the proof is in the pudding:  My kid is thriving.
We live a mostly happy, and always busy life.  Yes.  It is possible.
Happy Girls, Halloween 2015

Happy Girls, Halloween 2015