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I am normally a pacifist. I abhor violence in any form, cannot watch anything higher than a 12 certificate and yet last week I was preparing for a fight.

A battle of epic proportions, a war that would change the face of our family future, a conflict that was akin to David & Goliath, an impending confrontation that started rumbling 14 months ago and the sound of hooves got louder and louder until the fateful day arrived. What was this momentous meeting, what had put our lives on hold for over a year, what had been lurking on our horizon for ever, what had stopped us booking holidays and glued down the pause button? After 14 months of waiting, our meeting with CAMHS had finally arrived.

The day of the meeting I was in a state of shock, there were mixed emotions aplenty; happiness that the day was finally here; trepidation about who we would see, what they would say, what they could offer and above all, an overwhelming love for our Aspie girl and the realisation that this would hopefully be a step forward.

As the time approached, I prepared myself for battle, the war paint (make up) went on, the armour was attached (smart clothes and pointy shoes) and I had plenty of ammunition (a glittery notebook with ideas, questions and timelines). I was not taking ‘no’ for an answer, I was not leaving until something had been achieved, I would continue to ask and push and battle until I had no more fight left in me.

BUT…

There was no fight, no loud words, no gritting of teeth, no pulling of hair; instead, there was a collaborative conversation about what could help our darling girl. OK, there is not as much support as we thought there would be, huge reliance on charities and a feeling that everything will be a long time coming but, for the first time in 14 months, I felt I had another army on my side. There were troops who could support; the cavalry had heard our cry and was prepared to engage. What I thought would be a bloodbath was in fact a very gentle shaking of hands and a promise, a nod and a empathetic acknowledgement that we no longer had to battle alone…

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One thought on “Ding, Ding…Round 3

  • April 6, 2017 at 10:32 pm
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    Very encouraging to read; the wait to access the services is soul destroying but so worthwhile just for the acknowledgement that you are right, your evaluation of your child is justified, there is a ‘problem’ and help is on the way to identify what the ‘problem’ is. Once identified, strategies can be adopted to tackle and overcome the ‘issues’ arisen because of ‘the problem’.

    The wait is SO worthwhile.

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