A Success Story

 

Last Friday, we had our typical quarterly meeting with Alex’s support team; however, it was not typical. A few months ago, we found out that Alex’s fantastic case manager who had worked with us for more than five years––ever since he started receiving state waiver funds for autism––was resigning to go into a different career. While we were terribly disappointed to lose her, not just because she was excellent at her job but also because she is a genuinely kind person who took great interest in Alex, we hoped that her replacement would continue the good work she had started.

Once we were notified who would be Alex’s new case manager, the person who coordinates his support services and budget, we asked his therapists if they knew her. Both his behavioral therapist and music therapist had worked with the new case manager before, and they described her as experienced, pleasant, and quite capable. Moreover, his music therapist mentioned that this case manager was often given difficult cases because she could adeptly handle them. While I hoped we weren’t considered a difficult case, I was relieved that we were going to be working with someone who has an excellent reputation.

In the days leading up to our meeting, I was a bit obsessed with making a good first impression on our new case manager. Since the meetings are held in our home, I wanted our house to be sparkling clean, so I washed curtains, scrubbed kitchen cabinets and appliances, wiped down walls and woodwork, and vacuumed upholstery in addition to my regular cleaning routine. Knowing that case managers are concerned with the safety of their clients, I made certain our fire extinguisher was where I thought it was, replaced batteries and tested our smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detector, and was prepared to show her that the hot water heater is set so that Alex can’t be scalded.

Besides physically preparing our home for inspection, I also mentally prepared for any questions she might ask. Although Alex is doing quite well, and we are delighted with the professionals who work with him, I wondered if she would question why he is not in a day program, as many disabled adults at his age are. As though I were preparing for an interrogation, I rehearsed what I would say in my head, making sure I sounded confident about our decisions but not defensive. Essentially, I was overpreparing.

In addition to having the new case manager at the meeting, we also had a new representative from the company that provides music therapy and respite care. Even though I had met him before, Alex and Ed had not. Alex’s music therapist, who provides entertaining Alex anecdotes during meetings, was unable to attend, but his behavioral therapist, who is one of his biggest cheerleaders, was going to be there to sing his praises. Also, she was bringing a new therapist she is mentoring so that he could observe the process of quarterly meetings. This meant that three new people would be attending, giving me even more incentive to make sure everything was as perfect as possible.

On the morning of the meeting, Alex seemed a bit anxious and confirmed my suspicion by waving “the claw,” his hand pointed down with his wrist at a 90-degree angle, a gesture he uses to let us know he’s not happy about something. As I asked him why he was upset, he told me that he was nervous about “so many new people” and letting “strangers” in our house for the meeting. Although I completely understood his anxiety about meeting new people, I reassured him that they weren’t really strangers but just people we hadn’t met yet. Once I explained that everyone in the group knew somebody and that his dad and I would be there along with his beloved behavioral therapist, he seemed less anxious about the meeting.

As it turns out, his fears and my concerns were wasted energy because the meeting went extremely well. The “strangers” were friendly, and the conversation flowed smoothly. Alex’s new case manager exceeded her excellent reputation, clearly capable of handling his case and supportive of all the decisions we have made, including our decision not to put him in a day program at this point. Moreover, she praised our support staff and told me that Alex’s therapists are wonderful, and we completely agree. With her comforting manner, I doubt she would have even noticed had I not vacuumed the couch and chairs.

During the meeting, we discussed the progress Alex has made in the past few years, and his behavioral therapist enthusiastically explained the improvements she has seen that have allowed Alex to enjoy community outings and crediting Ed and me for our support. We also discussed how Alex has adapted quite well to three anxiety medication reductions in the past eight months, which is apparently quite rare, according to his behavioral therapist and his case manager. In fact, his case manager summarized how well Alex is doing in so many ways by calling him “a success story.” She went on to explain that her experience has been that people with autism don’t improve as much as Alex has.

Knowing that she had read all of Alex’s files, even the harrowing introduction describing his out-of-control anxiety causing aggressive behavior six years ago that led to weeks of hospitalization in a locked psychiatric ward, I noted that she was impressed with the calm and pleasant current version of our son. While Ed and I were pleased that the meeting, despite all the new people, went smoothly, we were even more pleased that Alex was remarkably patient, polite, and engaged in the proceedings. He answered all of the questions asked of him well, and he sat nicely the entire hour. We could not have been any prouder of how he handled himself in this situation he had earlier admitted made him uneasy.

As we concluded the meeting, his case manager asked us, knowing the struggles we had faced, if we ever thought Alex would be doing as well as he is right now. To be honest, in my head I’ve had fears and doubts over the years, but in my heart I’ve believed that he would get better and better with time. To answer her question, I simply replied, “We prayed for this.” For all our fears, big and small, God has worked out all the details––from bringing us the right people supporting us in making Alex better to guiding us as parents how to best help him to healing his body and mind. While we are overjoyed that his case manager and therapists see Alex as a success story, we know who was truly responsible for bringing him this far, and we give the glory to God. Moreover, we wait with anticipation to see what God has planned for Alex to continue his success story.

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Philippians 4:19-20