Tag Archives: assessment

23 Months In One Year

20 Apr

April 20 – Miracle cure: Write a news-style article on a miracle cure. What’s the cure? How do you get the cure? Be sure to include a disclaimer.

Try as I might, I was not able to get this prompt to work for me. Therefore, I decided to use one of the bonus prompts that were provided at the beginning of this challenge.

Best doctor’s visit or hospital stay: What made it the best? The news you got? The nurse/doctor/surgeon you saw? The results?

On a cool Spring day in 2010, my husband and I drove George, then six and a half, to an appointment with a psychiatrist. The purpose of the visit was to get the results of the assessment that had been done six weeks previously.

The anxiety we felt went beyond normal parental angst. We were both remembering the assessment that had been done a year previously. It had not gone well. George had been agitated and distracted. He hadn’t settled, refusing even to take his coat off. Throughout the assessment he had underperformed on just about every task. In the next room, I had answered questionnaires, checking the “never” or “rarely” box to almost every question about George’s capabilities.

It had been a dismal experience, and the results had shown severe deficits. Now we were back, one year later, to see what quantifiable effects his first year of IBI therapy had had. He had shown almost no anxiety during the assessment this time, and the specialists had emerged smiling from the room, but we knew that we just had to wait and see the numbers.

When she greeted us, the psychiatrist was as charming and soothing as always. She ushered us into her office and gave George some markers so he could follow his favourite pursuit of scribbling on her white board. He surprised us all by writing lists of words instead.

The psychiatrist could tell that we were nervous, and she was kind enough to dispense with that beat-around-the-bush suspense thing that so many doctors seem to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in. She cut right to the chase.

“George has made phenomenal progress,” she told us.

She showed us reports and charts showing gains in almost every area: cognitive, language, fine motor, gross motor, emotional regulation, behavioural, daily living skills… What this child had achieved in the last year was off the charts.

It was literally off the charts. The psychiatrist showed us a graph showing percentiles of progress after one year of IBI therapy, and sure enough, George’s accomplishments went way beyond the right margin of the page.

In his first year of IBI – in a single twelve-month period – George  had made no less than 23 months worth of gains.

That was phenomenal. Far from following the usual model in which autistics develop relatively slower than typically developing children, thereby falling relatively further behind, George had developed at almost double the usual rate. He was still behind other kids of his age, but he was far less behind than he had been, and in some mathematical areas, he had actually started outperforming typical kids.

It’s like starting far back in the pack at a race and being way, way, way behind the leaders. And then, while the leaders maintain the same pace they started with, you put on a hell of a sprint. You probably won’t cross the finish line first, but instead of being twenty minutes behind the guy who wins, you’re only ten minutes behind.

Before getting these results, we had seen changes in George. Progress like that cannot go unnoticed. But it was wonderful to see it in numbers, to see visual proof of what our boy had achieved.

That day, my husband and I truly started to see possibilities for the future, and we made a promise there and then to help our son reach the stars.

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)

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A whole new world of hope

19 Apr

On Saturday morning I woke up full of anticipation.  Gerard, George and I were headed to York University to get the results of George’s latest assessment.  It had been a year since the previous assessment, and the results of that had left us feeling bereft and overwhelmed.  We did not need this latest assessment to tell us that George has made progress: we have seen that unfold right in front of us.  Every single new word and every moment of connection, however fleeting, has been a cause for celebration.  However, it is always nice to have these things acknowledged as part of a formal assessment, to receive confirmation that the progress we see is not just the imaginings of hopeful parents.

The psychologist who led the assessment started by talking about adaptive skills – play skills, social communication, daily living skills such as tidying up at the end of the day, going shopping, and knowing to look before crossing the road.  In this area, George has made very little progress over the last year.  He has not actually lost skills, but compared to typical children of his age, he is relatively further behind than he was a year ago.  We discussed possible reasons for this lack of progress: Gerard and I are often so exhausted and worn out by the demands of day-to-day life that sometimes we just take the path of least resistance.  On hard days it is easier to tidy up ourselves instead of going through the whole time-consuming and exhausting process of prompts and reinforcements that would be necessary to get George to do it.  But recognizing that short-term pain so often leads to long-term gain, we have to change our strategy.

As it turned out, that was the only bad-news part of the whole assessment.  We spoke about verbal skills: George’s vocabulary and use of language, whether he can read and spell, how much he understand what is said to him, his ability to follow instructions with and without additional prompting.  A year ago, George had the verbal skills of an eleven-month-old.  Now, he has the verbal skills of a 30-month-old.  He is still well behind where typical six-year-olds are, but the gains over the last year are huge.  He has made nineteen months’ worth of progress in just a year.  So while there is still a sizeable gap, the gap has narrowed.

When we started talking about non-verbal skills, the news got even better.  Non-verbal skills include things like cognitive skills, problem-solving, understanding of what numbers are for, the ability to see patterns and solve puzzles, and all that kind of good stuff.  George has, to put it simply, made a gigantic leap in this area over the last year.  A year ago, he was functioning at about a twenty-month-old level.  And now – I get goosebumps just thinking about it – he is functioning at a 51-month-old level.  That, my friends, is a gain of 31 months – more than two and a half years – over the space of just one year.  Yes, his overall functioning in this area is still about two years below where it should be.  But a year ago, it was about three and a half years behind.  Again, a narrowing of the gap.

Overall, George has moved down on the autism spectrum.  While he is clearly still on the spectrum and has a long way to go, his autism is not as severe as it was.  The therapy that he has been going to has been making an enormous difference, and with continued therapy and intervention, George can move that much closer to where he should be for his age.

I don’t have a crystal ball.  I cannot say for certain what George’s future holds.  Maybe he will never be much of a talker.  Maybe he will never be able to live completely independently.  Or maybe he will – who am I to say something like that cannot ever happen?  But there is no doubt in my mind that he is loaded with potential, and that he will be great at whatever line of work he ultimately chooses as an adult.

Whatever the future holds for George, he is my boy and I am so proud of him that I could just weep.  It is an honour to be Mom to such an amazing little boy.