Friday, September 24, 2010

He's not naughty

The pediatrician looks very smug. He feels he has nailed his diagnosis. It doesn't change anything, of course. Naughtyman is still the same, whatever label is put on him. Except the pressure will grow to drug him into a stupor so that he can sit through school. I say to the pediatrician, drugs will be an absolute last resort. And he says, for some people they're a very effective resort. He hasn't understood me. I mean, they will be a last resort for my son. I know too much about doctors and medicine. They are barely less clueless about some things than latterday leechmongers. Brain drugs are sledgehammers not scalpels, and a child's brain is fragile and growing.

He doesn't see how beautiful Naughtyman is, what a good fellow he is, how charming and funny he is, what good company he is for us and for other kids. Yes, he rolls around the floor in his class, but school is dull. I used to gaze out of the window, bored with how slowly it all moved. I know it's important Naughtyman doesn't underachieve but the days you are in matter as much as the days to come. We often end up wishing away the day we have for the sake of the one to come.

I think to myself, well the psychologist felt he had an immature nervous system and he can grow out of a lot of his issues. But I realise that in wishing for that, I am wishing away my beautiful son, wanting him replaced with something better. Haven't I hated it when people do that to me? Haven't I wanted more than anything that they would love me for what I am, not what they feel I could be if only... ?

He is not a little dolly, a puppet that we have to manipulate into postures that suit us. He is a human being who I love passionately and without reservation. I had plans to spend more time with my kids, to have them with me some of the time, which fell through, and I'm disappointed, but I will be valuing the time I have him with me more for it. I won't be able to spend the extra time helping him with typing and with his fine motor skills that I hoped to, because the opportunities that present when you have someone living with you don't exist when you only have the odd evening and weekend, but I can still offer what I have: love. That's better than drugs in my never humble opinion.

2 Comments:

Blogger Annie said...

You have no idea what it meant to read these words at this moment. And that's okay.

September 24, 2010 at 10:14 AM  
Blogger O' Tim said...

Ditto what AA said, from a parent facing a very similar dilemma.

October 1, 2010 at 11:31 PM  

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