DLA The final

As you may know we have been fighting the DWP in regards to Oliver’s disability. They downgraded him, we disagreed. We appealed, they dismissed us. We filed for tribunal and got letter of support from our doctor and I dug out all relevant information from his vast file. We sent off photocopies of prescriptions, the letter, a further explanation in what we have tried, an explanation of his presentation of autism, EHC’s ……in short everything!

Our appeal was accepted by the court and we were told to await a date and information on court choices closer to us. We decided that we would go wherever gave us a date first.

Today I received a letter from the DWP stating they have changed their minds and have awarded Oliver the high rate of care component and low rate of mobility. So we don’t have to go to tribunal now.

From speaking to some parents about this I found that a lot of ASD kids had been downgraded in the dla scheme and the parents were just too exhausted to fight anymore. Is that what they are relying on? Parents not having the energy to fight to save the government a few quid? They have the money for weapons and HS2 which we don’t need but not the money for the vulnerable in society. I don’t blame the parents, God knows I felt like giving up, we have enough to do without having to fight for every last thing our children need but it was the principle of the thing. How can someone who has no knowledge decide on my child’s disability?

For us we would have taken it all the way with the risk of losing. It was important to have our voice heard but it was more important to have Oliver’s voice heard, the challenges he faces daily, the help he needs to become all he can be. I choose which battles to fight now, there are too many to take them all on and I can’t physically or mentally fight them all. I triage them; what he absolutely needs, what he’d like, what we’d like if we didn’t know about the current climate of cutbacks. I’ll probably get it wrong at some point, maybe already have. But I try my hardest every day for him and he tries even harder than me.

Xx

“I don’t want to be your wife anymore”

Those were the words I finally had to speak to my husband a few weeks ago.  They were not said in anger, they were not the result of a row.  Since being married I feel he has become more secure, which is great, but I have felt less secure.  We stopped talking, he’d play on his phone of an evening when we were supposed to be watching a film, he’d come in from work and be on his phone, and yet when it came to him wanting to do something, we were all supposed to just be in good moods and grateful he wanted to spend time with us.  As you can imagine, feeling like a piece of furniture is not conducive to a great relationship so we did have a row about his phone and lack of interest and he said he’d try harder, especially with the kids, and he has.

I still didn’t feel right.  Instead of looking forward to him coming home, I dreaded it.  I hoped he’d have to go away for work more than I usually did and I decided that I needed to figure out what was going on in my head.  I don’t like doing that.  I usually bob along, making sure everyone is happy and that’s enough, except it’s not is it? Not really.  I file things away in my brain and don’t deal with them.  I’m not good about talking about my feelings either, it’s hard enough figuring out what I’m feeling, never mind explain it to someone else.  I was really unhappy.   He knew I was unhappy.  I kept talking about how I didn’t understand the world, how I never have understood it.  I don’t “get” people and their games, and why they lie, and why they don’t just say what they mean and I feel like I don’t belong to anything and never have done.  Except for my kids.  I fit with them.  They don’t have expectations of me in the same way.  They expect me to be there and look after them, obviously, but they don’t expect sparkling conversation or little amusing bon mots, I’m just there to be mum which I have done for, like, ever- so it’s something I know I can do.  Kids are easily amused, you just act daft and tell poo jokes.

And that’s when I knew what the problem was.  It’s the expectations that fill me with anxiety and unhappiness and the fact that I know I can’t fulfil those expectations.  I am not like most people, I am a nervy, anxious person and according to my husband very black and white about certain things like lying.  I don’t understand lying.  It drives me insane.  Why bother telling lies- you will get found out then trust will be broken and I will think you were trying to make a fool of me.  Ok you don’t have to be blunt but there’s nothing wrong with being honest.  Anyway, I’m going off the point.  The point is I can’t be the wife he expects, society expects and that I think everyone expects.  I couldn’t be the daughter, the sister, the girlfriend that was expected and I’m tired of failing.  So I told him I didn’t want to be his wife.  I told him if he wanted to go and find someone more “normal” he was welcome to, and I wouldn’t hold it against him and we’d make it work with the kids.  As I said, I am not good at expressing myself and the conversation went on for quite a while, as he was checking if I wanted to leave (no), if I was looking for someone else (no), if I was having another breakdown (no).  I just wanted to have my friend back who used to laugh with me, support me, have fun with me, talk nonsense with me, and all the other things we used to do.  I told him being a mum of 4 with each child having such great needs, and the lack of sleep meant I couldn’t be “a wife” the way he wanted.

Then he asked what I needed from him.  I told him I needed no pressure and I needed to know what he wanted.  He wants to be with me.  He wants us to stay a family.  He wants me to deal with everything that’s happened over the last 40 years, however long that takes, and he wants me to be happy.   He told me he didn’t give a **** what society expected.  He told me he always knew I wasn’t like everyone else, then proceeded to list all the ways in which I was different.  The list was quite extensive!  But, he said, I made life more interesting and challenged his ideas on lots of things and came at things from a different perspective.   Him being distant didn’t help our relationship but me being unhappy and maybe pushing him away definitely didn’t help.  Catch 22 situation.  So we are together, in that we are sharing the house and the children, but also back as friends.  Since our chat I feel relieved that he is willing to stand by me while I sort through my head and that he doesn’t expect me to change with regards my “oddness”.  I have found someone I don’t have to pretend with, pretending is exhausting.  I might get a chance to be myself.

I know this may have been a really selfish action, it’s all about me kind of thing, but I didn’t want him to stay and get nothing from it.  He’s allowed a life too.  I’ve told him he doesn’t have to do everything with me.  I’m not keen on going out so if he wants a night out with mates he can do it guilt free.  It’s a work in progress though as I’m not the only one in this relationship with issues.  Just as he has helped and supported me, I will do the same for him, when he’s ready.  We are happier now.  I don’t know how long it will last, I suspect our relationship will always have problems but I think we both feel a bit more confident broaching things with each other now.  If I was going to be with anyone, it would be him, we just have to define what “wife” means to us.  For the first time in a long time I feel a little bit optimistic about the future.  Just a little bit.

 

xx

Discharged from paediatric services.

  • We had an appointment at the hospital on Tuesday.  Now this post may be a bit random at times because I’m still trying to process it.  The consultant has discharged Oliver from the paediatric hospital service aged 5.  There’s nothing they can do for him.

Now on one hand it’s nice to have some honesty but on the other hand it’s 20 years since Max was diagnosed and there’s still nothing they can do?  I know the NHS is at breaking point, so I understand them wanting to lighten their books and get rid of cases where they can’t do anything. But it feels like we have just been basically told to get on with it.  The doctor said “yes his behaviour might be unmanageable now but it may calm down as he grows up.  We have no sleep clinic here it’s miles away and I don’t know how you go about referrals” which made me ask who does know?  Apparently family support groups can help but they are full round here and aren’t really able to help anyone else at the moment.  Social workers are overworked and we aren’t an at risk family so no chance of getting one of them.  School nurse should know more.  If anymore non-autistic behaviours arise see GP for a referral.  The problem is as I learned through Max, is that all behaviours are put down to autism once they have a diagnosis.

I feel quite alone now and that it’s down to me doing the speech therapy work- we have a great ST, he sees her once a month and she has given me her phone numbers so I can check I’m on the right track.  School aren’t doing his IEP’s, he actually got sent home with homework last Friday and asking around it was the same as everyone else’s- Finding Nouns.  So you can guess how well that went down.  I know he’s my child and my responsibility, but surely school should be doing their part as they agreed to take him and the extra funding he came with.

I wonder if deep down I was expecting more from the professionals, if I was expecting science had moved on in 20 years.  I suppose it has in a way because the doctor made sure to point out to me that it was probably something from my genes that made him this way.  It’s always nice to hear that.  We have our first appointment at genetic counselling next month so we’ll see what they say.  I think overall I feel abandoned.  It’s down to me and the ST to reach him and make him fulfil his potential- whatever that may be.  I am not trying to make him conform, like school is, I’m trying to find a way into his world and share mine and maybe meet somewhere in the middle.  I’m trying to find a way to ease his frustration and make him happy.  I’m trying to stop the violence and tantrums and tears.  I’m trying to get people to realise he’s just as important as everyone else and has a voice and rights.  I’m trying to make him know he’s loved, no matter what he does.  I’m not worried he will fail- he can’t, I’m worried I’ll fail him.

He’s different- not less.

 

xx

Dealing with “nice”

Now this is a real problem for me.  I never know what to do.  You see after 20 years of dealing with autism it’s not often that I’ve had this experience.  I don’t know when it became acceptable to comment on a person to their face knowing nothing about them.  I have to say I am not too nice when dealing with these people, a part of me knows I should try to educate but when you see me with Max especially, any one can see he is different, so the comments don’t seem like questions just an excuse for someone to try to get one up on us.  “that child needs a good hiding!” and my response “oh have you called the Lancet- I’m sure they’d be thrilled to hear your cure for autism”, “there was no such thing as autism in my day”-“was there always ignorance?”.  I’m not especially proud of my replies but I’m sure I’m not the only autism parent who has to deal with this inane nonsense.  I was shopping with Oliver the other day and we were discussing sausages- I say discussing it was me asking if he wanted blue sausages (chipolata’s) or purple sausages (Cumberland).  It was also 6 am and we’d been up since 3am so I wasn’t in the best of moods anyway but some woman overhearing us says to me “why you giving him a choice? he should eat what he’s given” I just replied we didn’t live in a dictatorship and left it at that. But what makes anyone think that comments are appreciated?  When I was little I was taught “if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.”

This has gone on for years, staring I can cope with, it’s not often you see a 40 odd year old woman dragging a 5 year old round a supermarket by his walking reins while he is on his tummy on the floor making swimming motions with his limbs and I’d probably look at that too.  So I can manage staring and I can manage comments (although admittedly not always nicely).  When people are nice it really throws me off.

It was Oliver’s sports day early July, on the big playground with parents invited so the main gate would be open and with him being a flight risk I was panicking in case he got away from his 1-to-1 so I positioned myself ready for the intercept if he went for it.  He cam out with his classmates, sat with Mrs D- his 1-to-1, and waited.  He was winning the obstacle race- until he stopped to wait for everyone to catch up, he cheated at the egg and spoon but won, then came the space hopper race.  He was more enthusiastic than skilled and was well behind, so I was cheering him on and I stopped to draw breath and I heard a group of other mums shouting his name and encouraging him  He eventually finished to great cheers from parents and school friends alike and the look on his face was pure happiness. I wiped away a tear (hayfever-honest) and when it was all over I went to collect him.  So many parents came up and said how well he’d done, how they/d seen his progress over the year and often a story of their child and mine doing something together.  Yes I was in tears on the way home.  These people don’t know how their simple “didn’t he do well” comments affected me, and made me feel supported.

I was in the quick check out queue once in the supermarket when Max was little and the woman in front kept looking at me then him- I got ready to defend us when she spoke I was deflated “would you like to go before me? My grandson gets bored waiting in queues and my daughter has the same look you have.  I don’t want to pry but is it autism?” We didn’t go in front but we had a chat while we helped each other pack up.

When Oliver was a baby I took him and Max to Morrison’s for a few bits.  We’d been doing well on our walks and shopping trips when suddenly Max went into Meltdown mode.  A staff member from the bakery came over and I thought “uh oh we’re going to be asked to leave” but she crouched in front on the pram and kept Oliver entertained while I dealt with Max.  I couldn’t thank her enough.

So I’m not good in dealing with nice, it turns me to jelly and often makes me cry.  I have also developed a face that I call my ray liotta “goodfellas” face

ray

“He’ll eat it if he’s hungry enough”

“just put him to bed he’ll get the message”

“take some time for yourself”

“He’s just spoilt”

I’m sure you get the picture.  I sent it to my daughter when she text me saying “did you get any sleep last night?” the reply I got “lol. ok do you need some help?”  I think the picture just sums up my reaction to insane statements and questions.  I also think it might be more polite than making pithy comebacks.

I just wish people would think- how would I feel if a stranger commented on my life? before opening their mouths.

 

xx