Archives for June 2014

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Why Parents Of Newly Diagnosed Kids Should Stay Away From Google

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Seven years ago, after an assessment that had gone on for a month, a doctor told me that my son had autism. I went home from that appointment and did what many people would do: I sat at my computer, went onto Google and typed in autism. I started reading and didn’t stop until my husband dragged me to bed with red eyes and an aching back in the early hours of the morning. A pattern started: I would wake up early, read about autism, go to work, come home, read about autism, do mom stuff, put the kids to bed, and read about autism until I was stopped or until I fell asleep at my desk.

After almost a month of this, my doctor – a different one – handed me a prescription for antidepressants, talked me down from a frightening ledge, and gave me a thirty-day ban from looking up anything autism-related on my computer. Looking back, I wish I had seen my doctor sooner. That ban that he imposed on me probably saved me from complete insanity.

When a child is diagnosed with something, the parents instinctively want to find out as much as they can about the condition. They operate under the belief that knowledge is power, and that constant research will yield solutions and methods and answers. In reality, all the constant research yields is more questions and confusion, along with a good dollop of guilt.

Here’s the problem with online research. When you do a Google search of autism, this is what you get:

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If you are in that surreal, mind-altered state that comes immediately after your child’s diagnosis, you have no idea how to refine that search. You are so desperate for any information at all that you cannot tell the facts from the fiction, so you just assume that everything you read is true. As a result, you start believing all of those articles that say you caused your child’s autism by vaccinating, or by cooking the wrong foods, or by using bug spray while you were pregnant.

At the same time, you find conflicting information about what you’re supposed to do. How do you choose from a wide range of therapeutic approaches, all of which claim to be the be-all and end-all? Do you medicate or not? Do you start imposing special diets, or do you stick to what you know your child will eat? Do you impose a strict routine to make things easier for your child, or do you switch things up a little in an effort to replicate the “real” world? Do you believe the miracle-cure claims of people who promote hyperbaric oxygen therapy, massive doses of Vitamin D or – God help us – chelation therapy?

The thing is, all of that obsessive research is not necessary. When children are diagnosed with autism or some other condition, most doctors will give the parents a bundle of papers to read: print-outs of articles, information sheets, a diagnostic report containing information and recommendations. In the early days, while you are processing the shock of the diagnosis, that is enough. You have to give yourself time to settle your head before you start going nuts on the Internet. If you absolutely cannot resist the compulsion to do online research, don’t use Google. Ask your doctor for a list of recommended links, and restrict yourself to those.

After a bit of time has passed, you do get to a point where you can do a focused search for information. You get to know which of your child’s quirks are indicative of his or her autism, and you discover what sets off meltdowns and episodes of sensory overload. You are able to conduct your research based not on a distressed response to devastating news, but on a calm assessment of your child’s unique needs and challenges.

In the beginning, though, you don’t need that. What you need more than anything is to be kind to yourself.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Google search screenshot by the author. Header image attributed to Valeriy Osipov. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.

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Training Roundup: Pictures Of A Waterfront Run

I am fortunate to live in a city that has beautiful scenery right on my doorstep, and this morning I decided to take advantage of it during my long run. I ran 22K, and while the run itself was kind of ugly, the views I got to feast my eyes on were most definitely not. This week’s training roundup is given over completely to the photographs I took during my run.

Wildflowers on the river bank

Wildflowers on the river bank

The bridge from Rouge Valley to the Waterfront Trail

The bridge from Rouge Valley to the Waterfront Trail

 

Juxtaposition of man and nature

Juxtaposition of man and nature

Waving at my friends in the United States

Waving at my friends in the United States

 

Canada Geese out for a Sunday swim

Canada Geese out for a Sunday swim

A bit early for the lifeguards

A bit early for the lifeguards

 

Shadows on a bridge

Shadows on a bridge

Lush greenery beside the lake

Lush greenery beside the lake

 

Enjoying the shade over the bridge

Enjoying the shade over the bridge

A view along the trail

A view along the trail

 

Motivational graffiti

Motivational graffiti

Looking up at the bluffs

Looking up at the bluffs

 

Standing out from the crowd

Standing out from the crowd

More colourful flowers

More colourful flowers

 

Playgrounds are for the birds

Playgrounds are for the birds

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Credit for all photographs to the author.

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Race Report: Toronto Runway Run

When I found out that a race was happening on an airport runway, there was no way I was going to miss it. It would be flat, it would be fun, and it would be super-cool. Hopefully, it would also be fast: I haven’t had a personal best for a while, and this seemed like a good opportunity to try for one. I asked my friend Phaedra, who won the women’s race last year, what I should expect from the run.

“There will be wind,” she said ominously.

Well, all right. So I had a good chance of running in the one weather condition that I actually hate, but never mind. A bad run on a runway would still be way cooler than most other runs. It was certainly cold and windy when I arrived at the airport, but there was plenty of shelter for everyone in the hangar that was used for the occasion. Some brave souls wandered outside and stood shivering as they drank their coffee. I was content to stay on the inside and look out.

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I did go out briefly, to take pictures of the firetrucks. I knew that if my eight-year-old son found out that there had been firetrucks that I hadn’t taken pictures of, I wouldn’t be allowed into the house ever again.

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Back inside the hangar, I wandered around looking at the tables and displays set up by the sponsors. I was impressed by how this event catered for families. There were games and activities for kids, and the event itself included a 2K and a 5K, both of which welcomed children and babies in strollers. Then there were the people dressed up as planes, who proved to be very popular among kids and adults.

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After the pre-race talks, runners were led out to the runway. An Air Canada plane was parked near the start/finish line. Someone near me wondered out loud if we were going to race the plane.

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By the time the race started, it had warmed up to a pleasant temperature and the wind had lessened. I was able to establish a good pace from the start, and I maintained it throughout. As expected, the course was absolutely level, which made it really easy on the legs. The surface was as perfect as a surface can possibly be – kudos go to whoever keeps the runways in such pristine condition.

As I ran, there were planes taking off and landing on a runway parallel to the race. I imagined the passengers looking out of the windows and seeing hundreds of runners right beside them. I wondered what they must have been thinking.

I probably started a little too fast, because I did start to tire near the end. Still, I managed a time of 29:25, missing my 5K personal best by just six seconds. I felt a little queasy the way I often do after going all-out for a 5K, but the feeling soon passed, and I was able to enjoy the awesome finish line atmosphere.

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This race is definitely one that I will want to repeat. If my younger son keeps up his interest in running, he will probably join me next year. He would love an opportunity to get one of the cool finisher’s medals.

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This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit for all images to the author.

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The Flea In The Bottle

George and his dad, enjoying the concert

George and his dad, enjoying the concert

A long time ago, I heard a story about a flea that was put into a bottle. Since fleas are capable of jumping something like 30 times their own body length, the lid had to be put onto the bottle in order to contain the flea. Whenever the flea jumped, it dinged itself on the bottom of the lid, and eventually it figured out how to jump to a level just below the lid. After a period of time, the lid was removed, and the flea was free to go. But by now, it could no longer jump high enough to escape from the bottle. The physical capability was there, but the flea had the expectation that if jumped any higher, it would get hurt.

The story is a metaphor, of course. It’s supposed to illustrate the idea that we perform not according to our abilities, but according to the expectations we have, that are put there by ourselves or by someone else.

When George was diagnosed with autism seven years ago, I promised myself that I would never put a lid on my expectations of him. I would ensure that he had whatever opportunities he needed to learn and grow, and to discover what he might be capable of.

This strategy has not always been easy to follow, but it appears to have been reasonably successful. Over the years, periods of rapid progress have alternated with disheartening plateaus. Lately we have been experiencing the latter, and my husband and I have been having some depressing conversations about George’s limitations.

In the midst of all of this, my other son James has been preparing for his school’s spring concert, which happened this evening. In the past, we have left George at home with his grandma on occasions like this. Sometimes crowds and excitement overwhelm him, and we don’t want to stress him out or wreck things for James. Tonight, however, Grandma was unable to watch George, so we had to bring him with us.

While we were standing outside the school waiting for the doors to open, George was already getting antsy. My husband and I spoke about which one of us would leave with him, and which one would stay behind to watch James. In the end, we decided to see how long George would last for, so we went in and took a seat.

The concert started with the 8th Grade band. As soon as the music started, a huge smile appeared on George’s face, and he started swaying in time to the beat. He briefly clapped his hands over his ears when the drumming started, but for the most part he stayed calm. He even started singing along when the band played We Will Rock You.

The folk-dancing act that James was participating in was quite late in the program, and throughout the whole concert, George was sitting calmly, listening to the music and clearly enjoying himself. From time to time he would bop up and down in time to the music.

When James and the rest of the folk dancers came out, I scooted to the other side of the auditorium to get a clear shot with my phone’s video camera. While the dancing was going on, I turned my head to see how George was doing. To my astonishment, he was standing beside his seat, trying to imitate the moves of the dancers. As his hat-bedecked head bopped and jived in time to the music, my husband caught my eye and gave me a thumbs-up. For a few moments, I swung the camera around to capture some of his dancing.

We left soon after James was done with his performance. George was brimming with happiness, but we could tell that he was ready to leave. We took the boys to McDonalds to reward both of them for a job well done.

Now, as they settle into bed for the night, I cannot help reflecting on the fact that if my mother-in-law hadn’t had a prior appointment, George would have stayed home and we would have missed the opportunity to see him having such a wonderful time. This has renewed my resolve to keep testing his limits and pushing him beyond his boundaries. I don’t want to put a lid on my expectations of him, or his expectations of himself. I don’t want him to be that flea that is conditioned into lowering its potential.

I want George to dream big, and to fly as high and as far as he dares to go.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

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Training Roundup: Focusing On Speed

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This week was a great week for training, one in which speed featured quite heavily. That might seem like a strange thing to say, considering that my week started on Sunday with a 20K run that was kind of slow and that made me feel a bit ill. I had run the 20K on virtually no sleep, in a state of terrible stress. The run itself wasn’t too bad, but it completely wiped me out. Still, I felt good for having done it.

On Monday I had a badly needed rest day. My legs felt OK, but I was exhausted to the core. In the afternoon I walked the mile or so to James’ school to pick him up, and it felt as if I was walking to the moon.

On Tuesday, I was scheduled for a tempo run. When our respite worker arrived and took charge of the kids, I laced up my shoes and hit the road. I ran 6K in about 36 minutes – well ahead of my goal pace. I was sweating profusely by the time I was done, and my bad ankle was aching a bit, but I felt good.

On Wednesday, I went to the gym for a go on the stationary bike followed by a weights workout. I realized that after just a few weeks of strength training, I was ready to graduate to heavier weights for some of the exercises. As I walked home from the gym, I felt that pleasant all-over ache that comes from a good workout.

On Thursday I didn’t do anything too intense – just a light run around the neighbourhood. On Friday I chose to rest instead of working out, because I had a race on Saturday morning.

On Saturday I went to the airport for the 5K Runway Run. A race report will be posted in a few days, but for now I will say that it was loads of fun.

The week was a success. The coming week will be focused more on distance than speed, and my Tuesday tempo runs will give way to the dreaded hill training sessions. Although my “A” race – the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront half-marathon – does not include significant hills – the hill training does help immensely with speed and strength.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

 

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9 Rules Of Parenting That I Don’t Follow

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1. Don’t let your child have more than 30 minutes of TV or computer time a day

My kids probably get 30 minutes of screen time just before they leave for school in the mornings. Contrary to what we keep hearing, their brains are not turning to mush and they don’t live in a catatonic zombie-like state. They are bright and energetic, there is nothing wrong with their motor skills or my neurotypical child’s social skills, and the games that my autism boy plays have a noticeable positive impact on his speech.

2. Don’t feed your kids processed food

Whoever made this rule probably didn’t have picky eaters. Like most parents, I try to feed my kids a healthy balanced diet that includes fruits, vegetables and all of the right nutrients. Some of the food they eat regularly is processed, and I am unapologetic. If I were to eliminate all processed foods, my younger son would start to look like a starving refugee. The kids will grow out of the processed food and into “real” food – I am already seeing this with my older son, who used to eat nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches with processed cheese.

3. Don’t ever yell at your kids

According to The Experts, yelling at your kids is ineffective and psychologically harmful. Apparently, talking to them softly will cause them to stop what they are doing and listen to you. That has got to be the biggest joke of the century. There are times when yelling is the only effective way of getting them to stop whatever chaos they’re causing. Do I constantly yell at them all day, every day? No, and if I did I would deserve a slap upside the head. But the occasional bout of yelling in frustration is not leading my kids to a lifetime of therapy. They know I love them, because I tell them all the time.

4. Don’t expose your kids to germs

I’m not stupid about germs. I’m not going to dump my kids into the middle of a crowd of tuberculosis patients. I make them wash their hands before meals and after using the washroom. They are expected to maintain acceptable standards of hygiene. But I believe that there is such a thing as too much cleanliness. If my kids touch an unsterilized surface like the handle of a shopping cart, I’m not going to go to war using a bottle of hand sanitizer. I don’t keep them away from places “just in case” someone has a cold. They are strong, healthy kids who rarely get sick.

5. Sit down at the table and have your dinner as a family

I’ve read the statistics: families that eat dinner together at a dining room table are less dysfunctional and more connected. The first problem with that is that we don’t actually have a dining room table. The second problem is that getting the autism boy to sit down for an entire meal is a bit of a challenge. Even in restaurants, he has to get up and wander around from time to time. Our family is admittedly a little bit dysfunctional (show me a family that isn’t), but we are highly connected with one another.

6. Send your kids to bed at the same time every night, even on weekends

I have nights when I’m absolutely exhausted, and I have other nights when I’m too wired up to even think of sleep. My kids are the same. They don’t get tired at the same time every night, so they don’t go to bed at the same time every night. Generally, I try to make sure they’re in bed by 8:30 during the week, but if it turns out to be 9:00 from time to time, it’s not end of the world. Not only that – they are allowed to stay up later on weekends.

7. Treat both of your children equally

I have one son, aged 10, who has autism. He doesn’t talk much and he struggles with social interactions. I have another son, aged 8, who is neurotypical. He is outgoing and talkative. The boys are very, very different from one another. They have different capabilities, different levels of cognitive functioning, and different needs. I love them both with all of my heart, but they have to be treated differently, because they are different people.

8. Always put your kids’ needs ahead of your own

If one of my kids is cold, I will give him my jacket. I make sure my boys are fed before I eat anything myself. If they are sick or scared in the middle of the night, I gladly sacrifice my own sleep so I can comfort them. My heart bursts with love for them, and I live to make them happy and take care of them. Sometimes, though, I have to think of myself first. I have to tune them out to do my own thing, or I have to go for a run before I take them to a park. Because sometimes, if I don’t take care of myself, I am too burned out to take care of anyone else.

9. Don’t let your kids do dangerous things

Look, I’m not going to buy my 8-year-old a Harley Davidson or encourage him to go bungee jumping. But if he’s doing something daring on the playground or riding his bike too fast around our cul-de-sac, I’m not going to stop him. If he falls, he falls. He might get a grazed knee or a bump on the head. If that happens, he’ll get First Aid and the appropriate amount of sympathy, and he will have learned something about what he is physically able to do. I’d rather let my boys test their limits while I’m around to watch, instead of restricting them and forcing them to experiment without proper supervision.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

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Training Roundup: Focusing On The Why

Why I Run

Why I Run

This has been an odd week for a variety of reasons. I attended a magazine and writer’s conference for most of the week, and that left me with very little time to do other things. But still, I was able to get some good training in.

On Sunday last week, I went out for an 18K run. I didn’t know how it would go, because I wasn’t able to do my long run the previous week. I feared that I might be a little rusty. It went well, though. I completed the distance in just over two hours – a very satisfactory pace. What made it even better was that it took me just four hours or so to recover. That afternoon, I was in the backyard with the lawnmower and just a tiny bit of stiffness.

I rested on Monday, even though I didn’t feel as if I needed to. Things caught up with me on Tuesday, though. I woke up with my bad ankle feeling – well, bad. I was supposed to do a tempo run, but I decided that an extra day of rest might be a good idea.

It turned out to be a good call: on Wednesday I felt fine. So fine, in fact, that I did my 6K tempo run as well as a full weights workout. Afterwards, I felt that pleasant all-over ache that you get after a good workout.

I didn’t have time for a proper workout again during the week, but I did manage to squeeze in a ten-minute run and a few weights on Friday afternoon. So although I didn’t get in all of my workouts, I count this week as a success.

The training was almost secondary to the other aspect of my running, though: the fundraising. I am, after all, doing this for my son George and other kids with autism. This week, I got to reflect on this as my fundraising page got hit with its first donation. I am aiming to raise $1000 this year – a lofty goal in these hard times. That money, if I can raise it, will go a long way to helping children and youth with autism. It can get them art and music supplies, sports equipment, summer camps and job training, iPads and all kinds of other things that can help in their cognitive and sensory development. This is all stuff that can really change the lives of some of these kids.

Sometimes, when I am on my long runs, I feel as if I don’t have it in me to take another step. I am exhausted and sore, and I just want to stop.

But then I think about George, who is going to live with autism 24 hours a day, seven days a week, for the rest of his life. He is brave and determined in the face of his challenges, and he is chock-full of love and sweetness.

If he can live with autism every single day while he brings such richness to my life, surely I can find the same strength and determination to run for a couple of hours at a time.

To sponsor me in this year’s Run for Autism, please click here. All proceeds go to the Geneva Centre for Autism.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.