Steps forward

Shade visited his Neuropsychologist Dr. Westerveld today to see if he’s bonkers like daddy. Good news. My kind of crazy skips a generation.

Actually we got the results of his Neuropsychology Assessment Report, which analyzes his progress on behavior, reasoning, comprehension, memory, and processing. In some areas he’s progressing, in others he’s just floating in the pond. But the general outlook is positive.

He can interpret complex language, performs above expectations with visuo-spatial learning, and does okay analyzing visual materials and solving problems nonverbally. He continues to have difficulty with memory and his processing speed–his ability to interpret info rapidly without errors–is at terrapin levels. So his attempts at learning information are like trying to play World of Warcraft on a Commodore 64 using dial up. The info and intent are good, but the game’s going to go reeeeeeeally slow. That’s why his homework takes hours when it should take minutes. The good thing is his fantastic teachers at CFP give him plenty of time to work on homework. Thanks CFP.

Shade continues to gain steps in, well, stepping. He’s been practicing free walking. No crutches, walkers, or jet packs. Only Daddy behind him as his net, and Mami in front to cheer him on. Today he managed 10 steps at least 5 times. His record so far is 15 steps. A year ago he couldn’t do 3. At this rate, he’ll be running a marathon by his 21st birthday.

Finding Focus

The explosion that erupted in Shade’s skull over three years ago knocked out his focusing ability. Shade has the attention span of a pyromaniac in a candle shop. Ooh, all the pretty lights.

Though his intelligence centers were not damaged by his stroke, short-term memory and focus did not fare so well. The MRI looks like someone tap-danced in those areas with golf spikes.

Thus, Shade’s school work suffers. He lags in class because he’s incapable of trudging up Homework Mountain without a study Sherpa to carry him. For example, he’s way behind in American Government class. Getting him to read the Articles of Confederation is like getting a Chihuahua to, well, read the Articles of Confederation. They’re both preoccupied with yapping at cats. (Shade’s cat fetish has not waned.)

So for every single homework assignment, someone has to sit and read with him, and explain with him, and write a little. Then read again, and

Shade getting study help from big brother, Edwin, and little brother, Mayan.

explain with him again, and write a little. Often it’s Mami. Sometimes Dad. This week it was big sister, Arianny, who’s in town for a week. It’s exhausting for Shade and for the Study Sherpa. It takes ages.

Shade’s not dumb. He gets the ideas. But then forgets them. And then gets them again. And forgets them again. Partly because he suffers short-term memory loss. Partly because he can’t pay attention long enough to transfer info to his long-term memory.

School demands focus if he’s going to acquire enough knowledge to have a career. A career demands focus if he’s going to keep his job.

How is Shade going to perform brain surgery if he can’t focus on the brainy bits? That’s a career tragedy waiting to happen: “Now, we just need a micro-incision right here in the meninges and … Hey, look at that beepy machine over there. Oops.”

So we’re trying something new. Shade’s neurologist, Dr. Kojic, has prescribed him Vyvanse, a drug often used to treat ADHD. (Back in my day, they didn’t have ADHD. They just called it fidgeting.)

This is a new edition of Shade’s Progress. The Focused Shade edition. Tomorrow morning (Thursday, October 2), Shade will take his first Vyvanse and we’ll see if he can switch from Dog Chasing Squirrel mode to Laser Beam Focus mode. We invite you to join the journey.