My word of the week this week is…
A brown envelope dropped through our letterbox this week. It was addressed to the parents of Neil, and I knew instantly what it was. It is the letter we have been waiting for.
The letter containing the time and date of Neil’s autism assessment. The appointment we have been waiting a whole year for, and it is finally here. Now shit gets real.
The appointment is for 3 weeks time. Just long enough for my brain to go in to overdrive. I hate waiting for things, because I start over thinking. I would rather receive a letter telling me to bring him in tomorrow, then it would be over and done with and I wouldn’t have to torture myself with anxieties.
There are so many things going through my head. What if they don’t see what we see, what if they think we are making it all up, what if we’ve got it all wrong? I don’t know how me, my hubby, Neil’s teacher, the pead and everyone else could all have got it wrong, but this is the kind of thing going through my head.
I’m anxious about the day itself, is it going to be stressful for him, what do we tell him, how do we prepare him? It takes place on a Wednesday, so he’s going to find it odd that he’s not going to school, it’s going to throw him off for the rest of the day. At his first appointment with the Paediatrician, it was easy to see how uncomfortable he was, how much he wanted to leave, and that is upsetting.
I think the main thing that I’m anxious about is that we won’t get the diagnosis we are expecting, and then what happens? If they see traits of autism, but not enough to give a diagnosis, what do we do then? Will we still get support?
I have a feeling I’m going to be on edge for the next few weeks. I can’t answer any of these worries, I can’t convince myself to chill out, I just want to get the assessment done. The diagnosis will not change anything, but I just think it will be a weight off the shoulders, a weight that has been sitting there since the first doctors appointment one year ago.