Happy Thanksgiving to the readers of this blog who celebrate it. We aren’t really celebrating this year. It just feels weird to be away from Michigan on this day. Truth be told, Thanksgiving has never ranked among my favorite holidays. Growing up, I remember Mom in a constant frenzy (and riding us like a prizewinning stallion in the Kentucky Derby) right up until the moment guests arrived, after which I’d go wading through a fuster cluck of bodies, answering all the same questions from all the same people who saw us maybe thrice a year (How’s school? How’s your love life? How are all your little friends? Etc…) “Umm… fine.” I’d have given a more complete answer if I thought they really cared. The above questions are the kinds of things you ask a kid when you’re really just trying to make idle conversation. Mostly, I just wanted a quiet place to hide out.
It wasn’t all bad, of couse. I have fond memories of waking up early to watch the parades on TV, flipping to a different channel (and another parade) whenever the cool floats of my favorite Saturday morning cartoon characters were interrupted by some dorky marching band. I also had fun hanging out with my cousins, whom I saw seldom. Interactions with the adults got better as I got older – at least the questions got more interesting.
So here I am in a foreign land on this most family-oriented of holidays, and the cynic in me laments how little I have to be thankful for, anyway. Actually, much has been happening in the land of Rubén, or will be happening, at any rate. María José and I started a blog about him. Another one. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Daniel, why in the hell are you starting another weblog when you don’t even keep this one respectably updated? Yep, true ‘dat, but this one’s different. It’s just for María José and myself, and we use it to chronicle everything about his behavior and our intervention. Diet, socialability, stools, new supplements, tests we need. In short, the works.
And surprisingly, it’s been very effective. We’re averaging 5-8 posts per day. We’ve also gotten a lot more disciplined about having a formal meeting on a weekly basis to talk about the new stuff we’re doing and gauging his reactions to it. We’re now managing his intervention like a company, and we’ve gotten pretty damned efficient as a result. This is, of course, to counter the general inefficiency of living in this country. Spain is a beautiful land and I love it to pieces, but it gets really frustrating when you’re depending on people to do their fucking jobs, and no one comes through for you.
Example. Performing lab tests used to be cake. You were sent a test kit for free, you collected whatever fluid or semi-fluid they were after, placed it in the included envelope, called Fedex, and they came and got it back to the lab within a day or two, again at no cost to you. It doesn’t work that way now. Now I have to pay shipping charges just to get the test kit in my hands. I now have to fill out complicated paperwork (in triplicate, and in two languages), and then pray that the courier shows up prepared and on time to help send your sample on to its destination. This prayer most likely goes unanswered.
Regular mail for lab samples is out of the question, so our first experience was with DHL. They promised to get it there in a couple of days. I must have heard them wrong, though, as it actually turned out to be a couple of weeks. And then they topped it by trying to charge us danger pay for handling these obviously deadly substances. Yeah, it’s a real bitch to don my radioactive suit every time I change a diaper…
So, this week we opted for Fedex instead. Getting set up with these companies is a trial in itself, which usually consists of filling out extensive paperwork and calling them multiple times for information (often getting a different story each time). Now, Fedex uses local couriers to pick up a package and get it to them. The ChronoExpress guy shows up without the promised waybill (absolutely necessary paperwork), because it was a new van and they hadn’t stocked it with those materials yet. Sigh. They send someone again later in the day (after my wife staunchly refused to have it any other way), and we manage to make the hand-off. Once it’s in the hands of Fedex, everything goes as it should, and the “precious cargo” arrives within 48 hours. Stupendous. Also very expensive. In the end, I paid $75 and wasted a lot of time to send four vials of baby poop halfway around the world.
We have similar problems going the opposite direction. Nobody around here carries most of the vitamins and other supplements we need, so we have to order them from the U.S., which takes an excruciatingly long time, thanks to 9/11 and to many of the vendors’ general unwillingness to ship abroad. So we have things sent to my mom, who (bless her heart) turns around and ships them to us, which results in more delays. A big part of the problem in providing appropriate treatment is having to hold off on starting something because we’re still waiting for it to arrive.
All this waiting around takes a toll. Time is passing, and he is growing, but his development is still glacially slow. We’re getting less patient by the day, and as a result, less diplomatic when dealing with his practitioners. Actually, with the world in general. Just in the past few months, we’ve managed to piss off two practitioners, his local speech therapist, and one of my clients. E-mail is particularly sticky because the vibes are so hard to read sometimes. Lately, it seems like I can’t hit the Send button without unleashing a veritable shitstorm of hurt feelings and misread intentions. Oh well. I’ll buy ‘em all a drink once we get our child completely back to the world. For now, I’m too busy and tired to care.
The local speechie actually threatened to jettison us entirely. Nowadays, I’m not sure that would have been such a bad thing. After several weeks of reading nothing but glowing reports on Rubén’s progress, María José and I actually visited the school (separately) to observe a session or two. It’s very ABA, focused on teaching skills through a reward system rather than encouraging joyful interaction for its own sake. These folks are thrilled when he learns all his colors, yet casually ignore the fact he shuts out the world when left to his own devices. They get out a baby doll, and instruct him, “Feed the baby. Brush the baby. Bathe the baby.” He does so, and they marvel at his “pretend play.” Um… noooo. Real pretend play is a function of Rubén using his imagination, not just mindlessly following your commands. If you want to really encourage imaginative play, then at least give the baby a friggin’ name…
Long story short, it’s clear that these people have much lower expectations of my son’s ultimate capabilities than we do. He’ll continue going for the time being because I think ABA-style skill acquisition IS good for him to a point, and also because we need the time away from him to work. But we desperately miss Carol, our speechie in Ann Arbor. There’s just no comparison.
At Thanksgiving every year, we typically go around the table, with each person making a brief statement of what they’re thankful for. Since I’m absent from the festivities this year (and since this post, upon re-reading, came out a lot more negative than I’d intended), I’m going to conclude this holiday post with my own list. I’m thankful for:
- An amazing spouse, who’s my partner in the most difficult task either of us have ever faced. I know we never expected to be this tested, this soon, but if I had to go through an ordeal like this, there’s no one I’d rather have at my side.
- A beautiful boy who’s constantly surprising us with his innate intelligence and charm. Just when I think we’re sunk, you’ll do some amazing thing that takes our breath away, and gives us hope for the future. Your mom and I love you more than anything.
- My in-laws, whose infinite love, patience, and help provide Rubén with a wonderful, loving influence as well as help keep his parents sane. We’d NEVER get a date night without them.
- My parents, who provide love and support from afar, which I know is less than ideal for them. Plus, they help keep us in supplements, which is VERY appreciated.
- Our friends and other family members, who check up on us from time to time, and who patiently endure our neglect. It won’t always be that way, promise.
- My clients. There are currently too few of you, but not a day goes by that I don’t realize how monumentally fucked we’d be if there were NONE of you. I’m thankful for the opportunity to enrich your organizations with my work, while providing for my family at the same time.
- Our health. Getting Rubén back would be practically impossible if not for the fact that MJ and myself are both relatively fit.
It’s snowing buckets in Michigan right now. Here, the sky is a cloudless blue, and the temperature requires no more protection than a windbreaker. I’d love to say I miss the snow, but the only one in this house who really pines for a snowy day is Lucy. Maybe we’ll take her to Granada (mountains) if we ever get a car. At any rate, the picture above is of Huelva as seen from our living room balcony. I took it a few days ago. There are also a couple of reasonably cute Rubén pics if you click. Enjoy, and Happy Thanksgiving…
