October 24, 2010 "Horrible or Humorous"

Though it might sound like it, this is not a post about the upcoming Halloween Holiday. It’s about Porter’s first visit to the psychologist and how I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at various times during the appointment. We are still on our quest to find answers to help Porter with his “condition,” a condition we’re not even sure about. If he doesn’t have cerebral palsy does he have dystonia? And how does the anxiety/OCD behaviors fit in? Though starting him on medication last Spring was definitely helpful, more than helpful, some behaviors are ramping up again.

When I picked Porter up from school last Thursday, his special education teacher caught me in the hallway, wanting to quickly relate a concern. She told me that Porter has been randomly standing at attention in class, for just a few seconds at a time, and seems to be focused and mumbling. Thankfully, I already knew this so I neither laughed nor cried. He has been doing the same thing at home, at the store, at Scouts, playing outside, at restaurants, etc…. I explained to the teacher that we were actually headed to see a psychologist to try and figure stuff out.
The appointment started out with me explaining some of my concerns to the doctor. Porter still has an obsession with the moon, looking out his window several times before he falls asleep. Then I explained how Porter feels the need to make sure I’m really his mom by regularly attempting to remove my head from my body when he’s giving me a hug (horrible). I also explained his latest compulsive behavior of standing at attention at seemingly random times (which he demonstrated throughout the appointment). And the list goes on and on.
The doctor began telling Porter how he’s in charge of what he does and how they were going to work on getting that “thing” under control. He said, “It’s like a monster.” Porter said, “Monsters are fake.” Doctor “Okay, maybe like a dragon.” Porter “Dragons aren’t real.” (humorous) The doctor tried to explain how the monster or dragon was just a symbol and it could really be anything, and Porter should draw a picture of it. “I can’t do that.” “Why not?” “Because if I draw a picture of God, it might not look right.” (horrible)
So Porter thinks it’s God telling him to stand at attention, or what have you, because if he does it, the people in his life will be safe. The doctor looks over at me and tells me as an aside that preoccupation with God is totally typical for kids of Porter’s age. But Porter is not a typical kid. He’s extraordinary. I told the doctor how it was hard to understand how an overly social, outgoing kid, uninhibited by his disability, could also be so paralyzed and controlled by fear and anxiety. How a kid that can manipulate a computer, spout off sport’s statistics, and problem solve his way in or out of anything feels so defeated and dumb when it comes to school work.
But that’s Porter, a study in opposites, which brings out the same in me. I regularly vacillate between laughing and crying when it comes to Porter, sometimes laughing because he’s humorous, sometimes laughing to keep me from crying at the “horrible” things that he does, the things that make me worried for him, for his future. Other times crying from laughing so hard at things like, “Mom, today I asked 13 girls to be my girlfriend and they all said no.” Really? 13? I’m not sure I would have made it past 2 or 3 and he went all the way to 13? Like I said, extraordinary.