A mood to match the sky

Will the complaining on this blog stop soon, you ask?
My Magic 8 ball says, "Outlook not so good."
(At least for most of this post!)

On Friday, I toured what we thought was going to be Gracie's school. It didn't go well... or at least, it didn't end well. By the time I got home, my mood matched the gloomy sky and I literally couldn't speak about what transpired without crying. My whining from the night before turned to anger, sadness, frustration and disappointment.

I cannot go into specifics here on the blog. There is too much that easily identifies the "players" and it just wouldn't be appropriate in this forum.

In a nutshell, we had two choices for Gracie's classroom placement. There are pros and cons to each, and while I was initially very frustrated with the decision making process, one of Gracie's former teachers (and now my friend) kindly reminded me that we are lucky to have two programs to be considering.

After careful consideration, we chose a class with the very specific intent of working toward placement in the other program by fall. Again, many reasons... the specifics of the programs are too easily identifiable and I am just not sure who reads this blog locally. I have actually written (mostly for my own catharsis) a very long, detailed post about what transpired. It just won't be published here.

During Friday's tour, my main purpose was to determine whether we'd want Gracie to attend while the district is still trying to find a signing instructional aid. When I arrived at the school, I had no idea that there were much larger obstacles that will prohibit Gracie from being in the classroom at this time.

I will say this, there are certain points that were made that, to an extent, I can completely accept. Gracie's secretions are too tenacious - - agreed. This has always been a problem and we have tried numerous times and numerous ways to manage them - - all to no avail. Besides this point, though, things were said to me by one professional on the campus that were unacceptable on so many levels. I don't believe this person had the direct intent of being rude, insulting or uncompassionate, but most everything that was said fell into those categories. Comments were inappropriate and unwarranted. When I entered that person's office, my primary goal was to get the remainder of the paperwork done to get Gracie into school. Halfway through our conversation, my goals were 1) to keep my cool without saying something inappropriate myself and 2) to leave that office without bursting into tears.

I don't even know how I got home. I called both John and my mom, explaining some of what happened. By the time I parked in the driveway, I was sobbing and reeling with so many emotions. I was sad for Gracie and this huge setback. Disappointed for Gracie. Angry that I had allowed a perfect stranger manipulate me into doubting how I've mothered my daughter. Angry that I hadn't stood up to that person more as it happened. Sad that the excitement of Gracie going to school had turned so ugly. Frustrated that we'd chosen this program and wasted time trying to make it work and now there is absolutely no way I will send my daughter to that school because I cannot trust in my heart that her best interests will be considered on all fronts. Sad because, for the first time, I regretted moving here.

I did call our new pulmonologist and ask for "secretion advice" once again, and then gave myself permission to live with all of my emotions the entire weekend. Amongst a million rants, I blubbered about, "What will we do now?" and "Who the hell is [that person] to judge my parenting?" and "What if we still can't control her secretions... will she be stuck on home-hospital forever?" Along with the blubbering, I ate A LOT of comfort food.

When Monday rolled around I knew I had to speak to our district's Program Specialist and I just couldn't. I wasn't ready to have a coherent conversation... I was beyond the crying, but I was angry and scattered. I spoke to another one of Gracie's former teachers (also now my friend) and she helped me gather my thoughts and gave me a place to start the conversation.

Tuesday I had that conversation... not nearly as neat and concise as I had intended... but I made my points. Apparently, I am not the first person to have these kinds of feelings after an encounter with said individual. And, as luck would have it, we have ourselves a wonderfully reasonable and proactive Program Specialist! She had a plan "B" that has it's own plan A and B. We will put Gracie back on Home-Hospital for now, get assessments done (she's due for her triennial assessment ALREADY) and have all the "players" (i.e. teachers, therapists, etc.) get to know her (and love her!). In the meantime, the SELPA nurse and district nurse will meet Gracie and we will get some answers about her unacceptable secretions and how to proceed with a classroom placement, while I head the FULL-TIME, daunting search for a nurse.

So, there is a plan. I am not crying. The sky is blue and I have hope again.
My Magic 8 Ball says, "Outlook Good."