I love drugs. Sure, it’s always wonderful when you can get by in your life without the support of any controlled substance, but when you need them–you need them. Recently we decided to see if meds could give Scout some peace with his anxiety issues, and boy am I glad we did.
At Scout’s tender age of five, the doctor who bestowed him his label spent the first 40 minutes of our appointment explaining all of the tests and observations that were involved with getting the diagnosis. In the final 10 he told us our son had Asperger’s Syndrome, told us his printer was broken so he couldn’t give us any information about it, and informed us that Scout could be on medication. Any questions? Needless to say we were horrified and left there with more questions than answers. With even our doctor not recognizing the fact that Scout was on the spectrum because he is so high functioning, I know both C-man and I didn’t necessarily think drugs needed to be part of the plan. It’s not that we were against them…but it was definitely not something we were going to jump into lightly.
And we never needed to. For the last 5 years OT, social services and summer school seemed to be helping Scout along quite nicely. But of course with age comes more understanding. And with understanding comes fear. I don’t blame Scout one bit, this world of ours can be an awfully scary place. Especially when you see the world as intricately as he does. I feel blessed that I don’t, to be honest.
Not long ago Scout started to get these ‘temptations’–things he wanted to do but knew they were not something he REALLY wanted to do. Like throw his favorite car out of our car window. Or tear up one of his favorite cartoons that he worked really hard on. Or stick his finger down his throat to make himself throw up, which really scared him. Sometimes he would come up to us and start crying, thinking about something he did years ago that he felt badly about. All of this made me look at C-man and say the word. Drugs.
We took him in for some counseling before we jumped on the ol’ drug bandwagon. The therapist agreed that he might indeed benefit from such a thing. We started him at a lower dose and have just recently bumped it up a little.
Dare I say, I do believe it has helped? Since he first started we’ve seen improvements. There are no more ‘temptations’. He can talk about ‘throw up’ without going into a panic, even joke about it. He seems more quick with an ‘okay’, when told to do something, or to stop doing something when it’s time to. Things seem easier with schoolwork. It could just be what they are working on in math right now, and the fact that he’s getting some good one-on-one extra help–but I’ll be darned if I’m not seeing an improvement with his whole attitude when it comes to the dreaded math homework. Cue the singing angels!!!!
Now I just have to work on finding a new shrink for him. The last time we saw her, which was only the second appointment, both C-man and I were less than impressed. She didn’t even know what dose Scout was currently taking, had to look back at her notes to even see that he took the whole ADHD diagnostic test already after suggesting it. (he came up very borderline with that one.) Seriously, does anyone else feel like finding a good doctor is like a needle in the haystack? Even my hubby and I have been going from doctor to doctor lately, as ours retire or move on to another practice somewhere. It’s frustrating and hard to know where to go next. But that’s a whole ‘nother post….!!
Is there a part of me that feels a bit guilty as a mother that we can’t help Scout along without the support of medication? Well of course. I don’t think I’d be a parent if I didn’t feel that way. No one likes to feel dependent on anything, and as parents we always want to make everything all right for our kids. Ourselves. Because that’s our job. But if there is one thing Asperger’s has taught me is that there is no one answer to anything, and support is a damn good thing…in any form I can get it.