Sunday, February 24, 2019

Searching for Signs

Last Thursday, I was sitting in the waiting room during Alex’s music therapy session when I heard a knocking sound. As I listened, I could tell that the sound was coming from the direction of the therapy room where Alex was supposed to be singing and playing keyboard. At first I thought perhaps he or his music therapist might be playing a drum, but then I realized the sound was definitely a hand knocking on a door, and I was certain that Alex was responsible for the insistent knocking.

Although I never want to interfere with his therapists’ sessions, I also want to provide back-up for them if he’s being uncooperative. Consequently, I quietly walked back to the therapy room and stood outside the door, listening and trying to assess what was happening. Standing in the hallway, I could hear Alex continuing to knock on the closed door from the inside of the room as his therapist gently tried to redirect his behavior. Since Alex wasn’t responding, I decided to knock on the door, let myself in, and try to help the situation.

While Alex seemed a bit surprised to see me, his therapist looked relieved that I was there. He explained that Alex had been fine until his chair had tipped and he had almost fallen out of it. To be honest, that folding chair had worried me the first time I saw it because it’s not particularly sturdy. Because of OCD, Alex tends to fixate on things that happen and takes longer to get over them. He was likely replaying that moment of fear of falling, despite his therapist’s reassurances that he was all right.

When his therapist asked Alex for a reason why he was knocking on the door, Alex kept responding, “Nothing.” I suspect that Alex may have been dealing with anxiety by hitting the door instead of his therapist (which is a good thing) or seeking attention or trying to escape the setting by knocking on the door and hoping to be let out of the room. Perhaps a combination of these was the catalyst for Alex’s insistence on knocking on the door. When Alex is upset, he has trouble explaining what he’s feeling. However, his therapist’s calm approach didn’t seem to make Alex stop his behavior.

Using my middle school teacher voice, I firmly told Alex, “Knock it off!” After asking him what he was doing and getting no reply, I told him that pounding on the door was a dumb thing to do because it was annoying and could hurt his hand. Wondering if his therapist thought I wasn’t handling Alex properly because I was too blunt, I looked over Alex’s shoulder to see his therapist covering his face, trying to conceal his laughter from Alex. At least he found me amusing and didn’t seem to disapprove of my methods. On the other hand, Alex knew I wasn’t happy with his behavior, so he stopped knocking on the door, and he wasn’t laughing.

Then his therapist mentioned that Alex seemed to need to move his hands, so he had offered for Alex to give him “high fives,” but Alex would only lay his hands gently over his therapist’s palms. That was actually a good sign of self-control on Alex’s part: he didn’t use this opportunity to slap his hands hard to let his therapist know he wasn’t happy. Instead, I suggested that his therapist get one of the bongo drums for Alex to play and get rid of his nervous energy. While Alex wasn’t keen on the idea at first, I asked him to play fifty times with his left hand, then with his right hand, then with both hands. By incorporating numbers into the activity, he was willing to cooperate. After some drumming, Alex was calm and ready to finish the session on a good note by singing the familiar “Goodbye” song that ends every therapy session.

Even though I felt bad that Alex had exhibited challenging behaviors during the session and that I had intervened, I sensed that his therapist welcomed my support and some insights I shared. For example, I noticed that the therapy room has a new fan, which may have over-stimulated Alex with its appearance, sound, and feel since he is especially sensitive to touch and sound. In addition, before the session ever started, Alex’s patience was tested because he had to wait for his therapist, who needed to finish his lunch quickly and to text another client’s mother, which meant that Alex’s session didn’t start exactly on time, as he prefers. Also, the bathroom at the office was out of order, which understandably seemed to upset all the employees, who were discussing this in the waiting room in front of Alex. Even though he didn’t need to use the restroom, Alex seemed concerned that other people weren’t happy about the broken toilet.

While knocking on the door wasn’t the right thing to do, Alex was so overwhelmed that he didn’t know what to do. By stopping to analyze the situation, I could figure out the source of his behavior, redirect him, and reassure him that everything would be fine. Moreover, I followed my motherly instincts––which I know God directs––to go back to the therapy room not only to support his therapist but also to support Alex. I had read the signs correctly.

The next day, I had been grocery shopping and realized that I had lost my credit card. After a quick search of my purse, our house, and my car––aided by my perpetually calm and logical husband––I decided to go back to the store to see if I had dropped it. After retracing my steps in the parking lot and store, I went to the customer service desk to see if someone had found my card. Disappointed that they did not have my card, I began planning to call the credit card company to cancel my card. However, I decided that I would give the parking lot one more search.  As I prayed for God to help me find my credit card, I decided to stop and stoop so that I could get a better view. Suddenly, I saw a ray of sun shining on something on the ground. Walking over, I realized that the sunshine was reflecting off the metal chip of my credit card lying on the parking lot where my car had been parked previously. I don’t know how God could have answered my prayer any better or more dramatically––as if the heavens opened up and, thankfully, showed me the way.

Although I sometimes think that God is too busy to be concerned with the minute details of my life, last week’s incidents reminded me that He is always present. If God can give me signs about how to handle Alex or how to find a lost credit card, surely I can trust that He will always show me the paths I need to take to fulfill the life He has planned. All I need to do is be still, pray for help, and wait for His guidance.

“Now then, stand still and see this great thing the Lord is about to do before your eyes.” 1 Samuel 12:16

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