Lately, we’ve found ourselves in one of those phases for
which we’ve prayed fervently: the peaceful plateau, where life is rolling along
blissfully and smoothly. Times like this occasionally make me wonder whether we
should try something new to push toward more progress. However, most of the
time, we think of this phase of relative ease as a Jenga tower in which we
don’t want to make any sudden moves that might topple a potentially precarious
stack of blocks.
During these times when Alex is healthy and content, Ed and I compare notes in hushed tones, somehow fearful that saying aloud how well Alex is doing might disturb the delicate balance. We add to our superstition by adding the comment, “Knock on wood!” as we both seek a table or chair to rap our knuckles upon, hoping to ensure our good luck will continue.
Certainly, we have reason to be leery. For a year, Alex took antifungal medication to battle an unusually virulent case of thrush that invaded his mouth and throat and did not want to leave. When he finished taking Diflucan in June, we hoped and prayed that the thrush had been eradicated, but we continued to look for the symptoms: tiny blisters on the inside of his lower lip, a white coating on his tongue, and difficulty swallowing his morning pills. Thankfully, Alex has remained thrush-free for the past few months, and we have breathed a sigh of relief that he has been healthy. Knock on wood.
Although we have been working for over a year with Alex’s psychiatric nurse practitioner to reduce the medications he takes for anxiety, every time we reduce or remove a medication, we worry about how he will respond. Since August, two of his medication doses have been cut in half, and he has done remarkably well. Fortunately, with each medication reduction, we have seen Alex respond favorably, improving instead of regressing. Knock on wood.
After over a year of dealing with Alex’s food aversion that changed him from a hearty and healthy eater to a reluctant and picky eater, we enlisted the help of a speech therapist this summer. In just a few sessions, he made great gains and expanded his diet to include a wider variety, rediscovering the foods he formerly enjoyed. While we were delighted with his progress, we were a bit apprehensive when his speech therapist told us that Alex had made a breakthrough and no longer needed her help. However, he continues to look forward to mealtime and makes suggestions about what he’d like to eat. He’s even been able to eat at restaurants, despite all the sensory issues of sound, smell, and taste, while showing no anxiety about food. Knock on wood.
As part of behavioral therapy, his therapist has worked on Alex’s social and language skills by teaching him how to say hello and goodbye to people. One would think this would be a simple task, but autism makes this interaction difficult for him. To reinforce these skills, Ed and I often cue Alex to remind him to exchange these social niceties when he’s out in public. Sometimes, we directly tell him, “Say hello,” or we physically nudge him to speak to others because he doesn’t usually initiate greetings on his own. The other evening when we went grocery shopping, the gentleman who often greets us at the door was treated to an enthusiastic, “Hello!” from Alex. Ed and I exchanged surprised looks, wondering if the other had cued Alex, but he had done it on his own. To prove it wasn’t a fluke, he said, “Goodbye!” to the same gentleman as we were leaving. Maybe Alex is finally catching on to the social skills we’ve worked so hard to teach him. Knock on wood.
Since Alex’s quarterly meeting with his support team is coming up this week, I have been thinking about how to summarize the past three months, something we routinely do at every meeting. He’s healthy, sleeping and eating well, and willing to go places and interact with others. More importantly, he just seems content. We catch him skipping through the house, grinning in the back seat as he rides in the car, and generally amused as he observes life. In short, he’s happy and healthy. Knock on wood.
When we’re in the midst of difficulty, I find myself searching for God’s goodness and praying earnestly for progress. However, when things are going well, I vacillate between enjoying the comfort of ease and fretting when the next proverbial shoe might drop. However, we know that faith is greater than any silly superstition. Moreover, we know that God is in control, and we are truly thankful for His goodness in our lives. He has been with us every step of this journey and has plans for Alex’s life that are greater than we can imagine.
Alex is healthy. Praise God.
Alex is getting off medications. Praise God.
Alex is eating better. Praise God.
Alex is getting out and interacting with people. Praise God.
Alex is happy. Praise God.
Life is good. God is good. Praise God, indeed!
During these times when Alex is healthy and content, Ed and I compare notes in hushed tones, somehow fearful that saying aloud how well Alex is doing might disturb the delicate balance. We add to our superstition by adding the comment, “Knock on wood!” as we both seek a table or chair to rap our knuckles upon, hoping to ensure our good luck will continue.
Certainly, we have reason to be leery. For a year, Alex took antifungal medication to battle an unusually virulent case of thrush that invaded his mouth and throat and did not want to leave. When he finished taking Diflucan in June, we hoped and prayed that the thrush had been eradicated, but we continued to look for the symptoms: tiny blisters on the inside of his lower lip, a white coating on his tongue, and difficulty swallowing his morning pills. Thankfully, Alex has remained thrush-free for the past few months, and we have breathed a sigh of relief that he has been healthy. Knock on wood.
Although we have been working for over a year with Alex’s psychiatric nurse practitioner to reduce the medications he takes for anxiety, every time we reduce or remove a medication, we worry about how he will respond. Since August, two of his medication doses have been cut in half, and he has done remarkably well. Fortunately, with each medication reduction, we have seen Alex respond favorably, improving instead of regressing. Knock on wood.
After over a year of dealing with Alex’s food aversion that changed him from a hearty and healthy eater to a reluctant and picky eater, we enlisted the help of a speech therapist this summer. In just a few sessions, he made great gains and expanded his diet to include a wider variety, rediscovering the foods he formerly enjoyed. While we were delighted with his progress, we were a bit apprehensive when his speech therapist told us that Alex had made a breakthrough and no longer needed her help. However, he continues to look forward to mealtime and makes suggestions about what he’d like to eat. He’s even been able to eat at restaurants, despite all the sensory issues of sound, smell, and taste, while showing no anxiety about food. Knock on wood.
As part of behavioral therapy, his therapist has worked on Alex’s social and language skills by teaching him how to say hello and goodbye to people. One would think this would be a simple task, but autism makes this interaction difficult for him. To reinforce these skills, Ed and I often cue Alex to remind him to exchange these social niceties when he’s out in public. Sometimes, we directly tell him, “Say hello,” or we physically nudge him to speak to others because he doesn’t usually initiate greetings on his own. The other evening when we went grocery shopping, the gentleman who often greets us at the door was treated to an enthusiastic, “Hello!” from Alex. Ed and I exchanged surprised looks, wondering if the other had cued Alex, but he had done it on his own. To prove it wasn’t a fluke, he said, “Goodbye!” to the same gentleman as we were leaving. Maybe Alex is finally catching on to the social skills we’ve worked so hard to teach him. Knock on wood.
Since Alex’s quarterly meeting with his support team is coming up this week, I have been thinking about how to summarize the past three months, something we routinely do at every meeting. He’s healthy, sleeping and eating well, and willing to go places and interact with others. More importantly, he just seems content. We catch him skipping through the house, grinning in the back seat as he rides in the car, and generally amused as he observes life. In short, he’s happy and healthy. Knock on wood.
When we’re in the midst of difficulty, I find myself searching for God’s goodness and praying earnestly for progress. However, when things are going well, I vacillate between enjoying the comfort of ease and fretting when the next proverbial shoe might drop. However, we know that faith is greater than any silly superstition. Moreover, we know that God is in control, and we are truly thankful for His goodness in our lives. He has been with us every step of this journey and has plans for Alex’s life that are greater than we can imagine.
Alex is healthy. Praise God.
Alex is getting off medications. Praise God.
Alex is eating better. Praise God.
Alex is getting out and interacting with people. Praise God.
Alex is happy. Praise God.
Life is good. God is good. Praise God, indeed!
“Come let us tell of the Lord’s greatness; let us exalt His
name together.” Psalm 34:3
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