We had a surprise phone call yesterday, a spot of brief background, although Boy Lacer has had (quite extensive) physio before, he was discharged when he learnt to walk, just over a year ago. He then went back onto the physio waiting list eight months ago, after his last paediatrician’s appointment (I’m annoyed about this, not particularly the length of time of the physio waiting list, as I know that’s long, more that it’s now been eight months since Boy Lacer’s last paediatrician’s appointment), as the paediatrician and actually another consultant he’s also seen, both thought he needed more physio work. Anyway, I wasn’t getting stressed about the lack of physio, I was realistic about how long the physio list was and I knew that he was at least on the list and it’d happen when it happened and anyway Boy Lacer was still progressing. I’ve spent far more energy wondering when the next paediatrician’s appointment is going to be (it should have been two months ago, but apparently they’re running “a little behind”). So I wasn’t even thinking about physio when we got a phone call yesterday from an extremely bright and perky young lady who introduced herself as the new physio, she had literally just started work that day and “Would you like to come in tomorrow?”. So Boy Lacer saw the physio today. The eight months wait was obviously partly due then to them having to hire someone, I’d already heard on the grapevine via Boy Lacer’s occupational therapist, that his old physio had retired, I had assumed that we’d just be seeing the other one there instead.
Now Boy Lacer was not the old physio’s biggest fan, in fact she’d just have to walk into the room and he’d start screaming, so it was with optimism that we went to physio today because the new physio sounded so young and perky on the phone and because young and perky is right up Boy Lacer’s street (he has a record of responding far better to the play therapist there than any of the other therapists there and I think that’s principally because the play therapist is younger and being blonde helps). The new physio walks into the waiting room, she’s not only young and perky, she’s also blonde as well, but initially Boy Lacer wasn’t having any of it, he wanted to stay and play with the bricks in the waiting room but she soon coaxed him out and they were playing shape sorters, hoola hoops and football before you knew it, with Boy Lacer loving every minute.
It was interesting getting a second physio’s feedback as to the root cause of Boy Lacer’s physical problems, even though she actually agreed with exactly what the first physio had said, that Boy Lacer is basically overly flexible (hyperextension), something which is also evident to a lesser degree in me and Girl Lacer, so whenever he does something his muscles aren’t there giving him the support he needs to stay upright, he is upright and he does walk, it’s just the hyperextension makes it harder, which is why his endurance isn’t too good. So we need to work on his leg strength (although it’s already quite good) and his core body strength (which isn’t at all good). Anyway, the physios opinion on Boy Lacer’s physical problems contrast on the paediatrician’s opinion of Boy Lacer’s physical problems, which was last time pretty much brushed under the carpet with “All kids with asd tend to be clumsy”, actually he’s not that clumsy, his fine motor skill is quite good.
After physio, me and Boy Lacer went for lunch in town and a quick mooch round the shops, I went into ‘posh design store’ (actually Zara Home, which isn’t that posh, most of their prices are reasonably reasonable) for the explicit purpose of having a sneaky look at the bindings on their quilts. Some of the bindings were tiny, looking look they’d binded it with thin silk ribbon and completely machine stitched, none of that invisible hem stitch. Some of their quilts didn’t have binding as such, it looked like they had sewn the quilt top and the backing together, wrong sides facing out and then pulled them right side facing out, pinned the batting in the middle and then done a second seam around the edge where the binding would be. I then started eyeing up their table clothes as possible skirts (there was a lovely blue and gold one), so I left before I ended up buying something.
We then picked up Girl Lacer from school, which was finishing early for end of term. They’d apparently made a big fuss of the Easter bunny coming to visit, who obviously hadn’t thought the class was too loud (they’d told the class previously that the Easter bunny doesn’t come to visit classes that shout and scream too much because he has sensitive ears). They didn’t see the Easter bunny because he’s shy but he did leave fluffy fur all over the place apparently.
There was then a thing in the playground to say goodbye to a friend of Girl Lacer’s who was leaving. Her friend’s mum had literally covered a picnic table with sugar (containing items) and they had a ball. Girl Lacer is now at a friend’s for tea, so quiet afternoon now for me and Boy Lacer.
