Eyes & Ears

In my mind's eye, the appointment at the E.S.D (Educational Service District) was supposed to go something like this:

A little discomfort at having a hearing appointment but getting the hearing test portion done (as has happened so many times before) and then the ear molds made.

... and it did happen this way - until we got to the ear bud portion of the event.

Somehow my mind's eye blinked and missed this part. I had not actually acknowledged what this involved or how much the boy would react to such a procedure.

My mind's eye must have been relying on hope against all hope.

What really happened was to be expected but I guess I just didn't want to face up to it before hand or until it happened. My boy managed to, with great discomfort, place a tiny cotton ball in his own ear. This probably took at least 5 minutes of discussion, touching, protestation and the like.

Then it was the time to talk about the relatively "simple" procedure of putting some warm gooey like putty in his ear in order to make the mold. It was to stay in there for 1-2 minutes at most. This is when the sensory shit hit the proverbial fan.

I have blocked so much of the detail out of my mind that I cannot give you a blow by blow account. Needless to say, I attempted to pull out my arsenal of logic, promises, thoughts, empathy, hand-holding but alas none of it was to work that day. We left with out even one ear mold and no real plan.

The E.S.D. audiologist told of other children, including almost fully grown ones, having to be wrapped in blankets and held snugly in said blanket on the ground to make this happen. I, for one, don't want to go this way.

And so... we left: Mama grumpy, boy unhappy and quiet, girl stressed out as well. When we got to school, the boy was in a much better place and headed in on his own with his backpack and lunch in hand, even providing incentives to his sister to do the same. Unfortunately the lesser known side effects of the sensory defensive sibling syndrome became evident. For my girl... the stress of being there for the boy's earlier upset had led to her own stress becoming too much for her. She knew she had a substitute teacher for a second day and did not want to go.

Mom's Day was pretty much shot - and I hadn't even really seen it coming. It amazes me at times just how easy it can be to not face the facts of what your child's reality may cause.