One of the things that always amazes me about this blog is how much great advice I get, on everything from therapies for Max to how to get rid of groundhogs. I think there's lots more we can learn each other—like, how to get rid of squirrels and maybe just maybe info about stuff that will help our kids and us, too. So I'm going to throw out questions once in a while. While I cannot provide cookies or couches to lie down on, I hope we can all benefit from the group therapy (because, you know, backyard groundhogs can really wreak havoc on your soul).
What's on my mind lately is carving out time for Max's appointments. The serial casting threw us for a loop; we've needed to take Max out of school and get him to the hospital once a week, which is a challenge with two working parents. I'm using the royal "we" because this one's fallen on Dave, who has more flexibility with work. The night cast has to be done during a week when we're away at the beach, though, and so I'll be driving Max back to the hospital from vacay.
Dave and I are good about co-juggling Max's appointments. We always do the biggies together, like Max's annual visit to the neurologist. When he was younger, we went together to every single doctor's appointment, mostly because we were both so terrified of what was happening and needed each other for support. But now, if one of us takes him alone—say, to the pediatric ophthalmologist (Max had vision problems when he was a baby, and seems to be OK now)—that's cool.
Therapies are a whole other circus act. Every September, I type out the schedule and hang on the bulletin board in our kitchen. I've worked hard to find therapists who'd come to our house, which was especially critical when I had a full-time job. The occupational therapist comes Monday and Wednesday. Tuesday is music therapy. Thursdays, two awesome teen boys from a program come to hang out with Max. Friday and Saturday morning, speech therapy. Sunday is our only free day, though I'm not sure Max cares about having a day off. He doesn't yet think of therapy as "work"—I've always told the therapists never to say "Let's do some work" but, rather, "Let's go play" or "DUDE!!! Let's chill!" (OK, not that.) Max has had therapy since he was a month old. It's a natural part of his life.
A lot of our life revolves around Max's therapies, and that's fine with me. He is still young, and we are determined to get him as much help as we can. "Therapy up the wazoo" is our philosophy. Also, "Chocolate ice-cream up the wazoo."
What about you: How do you juggle all the doctor and therapist appointments?
