While Oscar naps upstairs I am shredding old documents and it's like a trip back in time: bills from companies that no longer exist (Boston Edison, Bell Atlantic Mobile); statements from banks that no longer exist (Fleet); lots of things addressed to old addresses in Somerville and Medford. So far my favorite find is the AAA receipt for roadside assistance on April 30, 1999, when we ran out of gas on our way to get our marriage license. Who knew that our Charlie would arrive exactly six years later?
Craniofacial Stuff
- Miles' New Ear: A boy who has had Medpor ear reconstruction
- Dr. Brent: Rib cartilage ear reconstruction
- Dr. Reinisch: Ear reconstruction via Medpor plastic implant
- Understanding Hemifacial Microsomia
- Foundation for Faces of Children
- Bringing Up a Child Whose Face Looks Different
- Robert Barron: CIA secret agent disguise guy who makes prosthetic ears
- Under Reconstruction: A boy who's having rib graft surgery
- Other Groups that Help with Hemifacial Microsomia
Hearing Loss
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- This is my personal web site. The opinions I express are my own. My opinions will change over time as I continue to experience life. This site does not offer medical advice.
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February 28, 2010
February 27, 2010
February 23, 2010
IEP! Eep!
A week ago I noticed that the hearing loss consultant, Dr. W., had not been in to see Charlie yet this year at preschool. It seemed like this time last year, she'd already been in a couple of times. Charlie's IEP must be soon; his birthday is in two months. This is the annual meeting when we decide what kinds of things we need to do about his hearing loss in the classroom, and whether he needs speech services. It's a big one this year, because he's going to kindergarten in September. I dropped her an email.
She wrote back right away. Charlie's IEP has been scheduled... for Tuesday, February 23!
So kind of the town to let me know.
Two days after my email, Dr. W. was standing in Charlie's classroom, brow furrowed, scribbling away on a notepad as Charlie exercised selective hearing--or just didn't hear me, who can tell--as I said goodbye for the day.
Later Dr. W. called me to chat about her observations. "He's really growing up," she said. "His teacher is delighted with him," she said kindly. Then, her usual: "I'm always struck by how well kids with unilateral hearing loss can compensate," she said. "He's missing stuff."
She isn't wrong. Unlike a teacher, she says, "I have the luxury of sitting back and watching. It looks like he's getting more than he is." Sometimes, she said, Charlie shrugs. He might have heard a teacher's voice from across the noisy room, but he likely didn't understand what she said.
I told Dr. W. that I thought he would benefit from full day kindergarten for the same reason that I thought Summer would benefit: it's the same curriculum as half-day-K, with more breathing room in the schedule. Spaces in full-day are filled via lottery in our town. I told Dr. W. that I didn't know if it were appropriate to ask them to place Charlie in full-day K for his hearing disability.
The social pressure in this town is a little absurd where kindergarten is concerned. We have five schools that we tour and rank. Parents snipe in the grocery store and at playgroups; the rumor mill turns us all back into paranoid adolescents. Someone told me at a Lia Sophia jewelry party that the family who owns the Dunkin' Donuts franchise donated $40,000 for privileges at our school. In disbelief, I asked our principal point blank; he laughed. I didn't want to become the subject of the next rumor. "You're advocating for your child," Dr. W. counseled.
Charlie's speech pathologist Cindy and I have discussed doing speech services for Charlie in the classroom, since that is the environment where he has to make himself clear. Dr. W. said she thought Charlie needed speech therapy in a quiet room so he could hear the speech sounds more clearly.
This is the kind of she said/she said that used to drive me nuts on a daily basis. This year, I haven't spent much time thinking about it.
I got a babysitter to come for the early morning meeting. It went smoothly except for when the preschool teachers asked if they should talk into his good ear. Had I not made that clear at the beginning of the year? What have they been doing all along? Pupil Services Coordinator dismissed my full-day request with an understanding smile. "I think full-day is great for all kids," she said, "but I can't qualify him for it based on his disability."
Charlie's plan includes the sound field system that he has in his preschool classroom. I also mentioned putting "fuzzy feet" on the chairs in the school cafeteria to bring down the background noise level. He'll have speech services in outside the classroom once a week for half an hour, and the speech pathologist will also observe him in the classroom and check in with his teacher each week, which sounds pretty generous to me.
In Charlie's original IEP from April 2008, I wrote in the goals section:
"September, 2010: Charlie hops on the school bus with his sister for his first day of school! In the classroom, Charlie asks the teacher where the scissors are, and she understands him. She tells him to go wash his hands, and he hears her. His friends ask him to play pirates on the playground, and he charges in."
Pupil Services Coordinator read this back to me and then said, "It's going to happen."
(photo: November, 2007 in Dad's hard hat)
February 21, 2010
He Crawls the Line
Particularly when it comes to dental hygiene.
