Yeah I know, you are thinking, "Yet another post about Nate and his issues. Sheesh!" One thing I have observed over the years however is that one tends to talk and write about those things dearest to his heart.
Nate is certainly not the first child with ADHD that I have dealt with in my almost seventy years, but at my age I do hope that he is the last.
When my son David was diagnosed at the age of seven I had never even heard of the condition. "What the hell do you mean by a chemical imbalance in his brain?" Of course being new to the issue Edna and I blindly followed the doctors' advice and put him on Ritalin therapy. It seemed the reasonable thing to do and we were assured that there were no adverse side affects. I don't know whether the doctors were flat out lying or they were simply misinformed themselves. The shit had already been around long enough by then for the harsh realities to have been manifested myriads of times with thousands of youngsters. Of course the school system was and remains to this day all in favor of such treatment of our most valuable and precious. It made the classroom teachers lives a tad easier and that was all that really mattered.
Daniel's case was a bit more severe than Nate's, or at least his treatment regimen was. He had to dose four times a day, beginning at six in the morning. He wasn't even awake yet when we entered his room with a glass of water and a pill to give him his first dose of the day. His first dose was the largest. twenty-five milligrams. A dose I understand is quite large even by the standards then in place. At ten am and again at two pm he had to take another twenty mils (each dose) during school. His final dose was at six pm, ten mils. This regimen was followed seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year.
Keep in mind that Ritalin is speed, pure and simple. It has no significant qualities other than those of any other stimulant found on the streets. It has the same effect on you and me as any other stimulant found out there. We were giving this shit to our seven year old son in large doses four times a day Imagine! To top it all off, at ten pm we had to give him a sedative so that he could sleep through the night. (he didn't start out at the the dosage levels mentioned above, but as time passed and by the time he was in seventh grade that is where we were.)
I can't even begin to describe that ill affects this had on my son. To name a few there was his severe loss of appetite resulting in slowed growth and maturation. Then there was the depression, lethargy, low self esteem and a general sense of disconnect with the world at a large and with his own family. His displays of emotion were mostly negative and often even when he was trying to show affection he would end up hurting the object of his display. It eventually became clear to me that his treatment was by and large a failure, but true to form the professionals insisted that "all this will pass in time" and "keep it up, you'll soon see the value of his therapy"
I haven't even mentioned yet that while his overall behavior somewhat improved (he was by and large a living zombie) he continued to have great difficulty controlling his rage. By the time he was ten he was angry most of the time.
By the summer prior to ninth grade we had had quite enough. We decided to stop the therapy but were concerned about residual effects of the drug. We talked to his doctor and he assured us that there were no lasting effects, the drug's effects were largely immediate and short term, that was why his dosages were so high. When we suggested that we immediately stop, he went into a tirade about how we couldn't simply stop, we had to wean him off the drug, etc. OK, now he had essentially told two completely different stories within a minute's time. I did know that when a substance has no residuals one can stop without an issue, except for possible cases of addiction to the substance. (which is in reality a residual effect, no?) We did talk him into letting us take him off the regimen for the summer and see what happened.
During the nearly ten weeks between that visit and David's school physical he had grown about an inch and a half and gained several pounds. That's not unusual for a boy that age but remember that he had not grown an inch since he was ten and had the overall physical maturation of the average ten year old, even after the growth. We were pleased. Also his behavior was not significantly different from when he was perpetually drugged up. Oh, to be sure we had our share of difficult moments that summer, but by and large the difference was so insignificant the we saw no value in returning to the regimen he had been on prior. That coupled with his beginning to grow, we were convinced. The doctor argued with us but we stood our ground and convinced him to write a letter to the school informing them that upon consultation with the child's parents he had decided to end David's Ritalin therapy. He told us then that he was quite confident that within weeks we would be back begging to have him put back on. Never happened!
David continued to have difficulty throughout high school and college, and even to some degree to this day. He did learn, as is Nate, that he can control his anger and rage, it just takes work. I hold David up as an example to Nate for what one can do despite one's challenges if he really tries. They (Nate and David) are quite close, but considering that David continues to struggle at times he tends to be a tad impatient when Nate acts out. Quite understandable in my way of thinking.
Imagine for a moment that you are seven or eight years old, you have just been diagnosed with ADHD, something you don't really understand. All you know is that you are 'different'. But your difference from other children is not physically obvious as there are no physical manifestations of your disability. You look just like any other child your age, height, weight etc. Yet you are different. By then you have already been told for years that you are a 'brat' a 'spoiled child' or that you are 'impossible' You may have even heard someone say, often more than once, "I wish you were never born!" or something to that effect. You have experienced failure in a very profound sense. You have failed to connect with your family, the kid down the street, your teachers. You have failed to develop any sense of self worth. Your life is miserable and you see no real way out, so you accept the new treatment as a possible means to improve your situation. Don't try to tell me that kids don't have these kinds of thoughts, they do indeed.
By now you have already come to see a failure as the end of a thing or process rather than simply a fact of life. You don't understand that everyone fails in much the same way that you have, but they can accept it much easier and move on. If you screw up you think, "Now everyone hates me, why even try!" Such was Nate's reaction the other night when he didn't call me and ask me to take him to the fireworks, Gramps was angry, perhaps even hated him so what was the use.
He has come a long way over the past several years and especially since he has been with me essentially full time. He still has a long road ahead, but I think he is beginning to see and feel real progress. I certainly hope so.
Now carry your imaginations along with me to a point a few years down the road. By now you have been on therapy for several years. You look around at your classmates and can see real physical differences. You are shorter, skinnier and more importantly you see that you are developmentally way behind. You won't go skinny dipping (Do kids still do that? They did when David was a boy) with your friends (if you have any) because when they drop their shorts the difference is stark and often embarrassing. You feel like you are not only different, but strange, odd, peculiar. You are beginning to withdraw even more than before. You simply don't fit in anywhere. Yet you know that you have the same fantasies, dreams and desires as any other child your age. You know this because in your social withdrawal you have found solace in books, magazines, movies etc. You know what a child your age expects and what is expected of them, perhaps even more so than others. You simply do not have the material with which to follow through. You are essentially emotionless, especially when it comes to positive emotions.
Nate, fortunately, having been on Ritalin for only a few weeks, has not experienced a lot of the real negative aspects of his condition, namely the treatment and its considerable negative side effects. He grew and developed normally, reached puberty along with his classmates, struggled with his self identity along with his friends, all the things a child normally experiences. This isn't the case for many, for still to this day the professionals are far to quick to push parents to take this measure with their 'troubled' children. The condition is often misdiagnosed by some lazy practitioner looking for the easy solution. Schools are eager to use this means to 'control' their student population. Many parents are afraid to object, others are simply not well enough informed. Then there are those who are just as eager to find a solution, any solution, to their difficulties with their child, especially when there are siblings involved.
I fault no one, at first it looked like a viable solution. As time went on many saw it as a best choice among many not so good choices. Once a treatment has reached the mainstream it is difficult to change peoples minds, especially the professionals (who should be keeping up on recent research) Yes, the drug of choice has changed, but the properties have remained rather much the same. It is true that these days in most cases treatment is confined essentially to school hours and the child is off meds on weekends, holidays and summers. The fact remains however that many are given drugs without proper observation, often not knowing with any certainty that the treatment is doing any real good. The conversation in the doctor's office might go something like this:
Doctor - So, how have we been since we last saw each other?
Child - "OK, I guess."
Doctor - "Any problems we need to talk about?"
Child - "Not really."
Doctor - "OK then, I see no reason to change anything at this time. See you in three months."
Pathetic!
The conversation with the parent is not too dissimilar.
Now lets get around to some specifics with Nate, considering some of the things I have said above. I once mentioned that Nate does not particularly like golf. That was about a year or so ago. The truth was and remains that he does truly enjoy the game, but as is so often the case with him and with others like him, failure is very difficult to endure. When he would miss a three yard putt he would become very upset with himself, but would lash out at whomever or whatever was closest at hand. If his drive went off the fairway into the rough, the woods or worse yet into a trap he would lose control and yell, curse and behave like quite the fool. All this made the game rather unenjoyable for him. Golf, like any sport, is a game of skill and requires practice, concentration and patience. Practice was a real challenge for him simply because he lacked the other two factors by and large.
This has been true by and large of any athletic endeavor he has attempted over the years. He wanted to be 'good' at the game and wanted it right now. His impatience prevented him from putting forth the effort required to significantly improve his skill. That and of course his innate fear of failure, because failure always meant an ending, not a beginning.
Why, you might ask, then has he been largely successful in music and the arts. The answer is quite simple really. Those involved in music and arts education are generally of a different bent than those coaching sports and teaching academics. Their own creative juices tend to be infective and create even for the attention challenged child an atmosphere where he can succeed. Also I have found that many of these kids are quite creative and inclined toward the arts quite naturally and as a matter of self expression. It is amazing how many people involved in the arts are in some way 'attention challenged'
I think perhaps I have said quite enough for now.
