Our therapy assistant is preggers. She's twenty-something and this is her first kid so morning sickness is the end of the world to her.
Whatever.
I've gone through it five times, and the last time I was doing clinical rotations at a nursing home. Nursing home smells and morning sickness do not go together. You dig? But I lived. I showed up and did what I had to do, occasionally excusing myself between incontinence pads, colostomy bags and tracheostomy suctioning for a good hurl.
But I digress...
Long story short, she will need to cut her hours and that means I need to find someone else.
Oh, joy.
I had a meltdown over it yesterday. Flailing arms. Tears. Mumbling curse words to myself. The whole bit. I think even Dylan would've thought I was immature had he seen me.
But I'm over it now. Sort of. At least I'm not mumbling curse words any more. Very much.
So after the initial despair, I picked myself up out of my heap of self-pity and realized that the only way to prevent future setbacks like this is to put together an ABA training program so that I am able to teach someone with little or no ABA experience how to work with my child.
To be honest, I have been at the mercy of these people. I love them. But they know that if they "accidentally" schedule an OBGYN appointment to overlap with Dylan's therapy session, or get a sore throat, ingrown hair or stub their toe, they don't have to show up and there's not a whole lot I can do about it.
Besides the arm flailing.
My hope is that I can develop a training plan so that when folks crap out on us, we can handle it fairly easily. So lesson learned.
I'll share it here when I have it put together.
No comments:
Post a Comment