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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