We are coming up to Spring Break. I am happy to get out of the grind of work for a few days, but I have a done of work to do. I am leaving the boys in daycare so I can get their room clean and actually split them into their own bedrooms. Jimmy is going to get his own digs. I have to 86 my office first, so I get to do a ton of work. I would love to squeeze in lunch with friends, but everyone is either going out of town or too far away to have lunch with during the work week.
The one big thing we have squeezed in next week is the much put off meeting with the Community Services Board. It is completely asinine that they are dragging us to this to get a small respite check when the CSB meets with us every ninety days to determine his eligibility for FAPT (which pays for half his therapies.) His level of function is completely documented through these meetings, yet I must produce my child for yet another evaluation. How many differ ways must I prove he is autistic?
Unfortunately, the CSB respite is going to be it for a while. The person contracted to do Jimmy's psych eval (for the Medicaid paperwork for respite) went on bed rest immediately after our first meeting. It explains why she hasn't called to finish the eval. I guess I get to wait until she pops now. Obviously not her fault, but it is disappointing as this will add months to the process of getting this paperwork completed and Jimmy waitlisted for the waivers. The frustration in navigating this whole autism thing is unending.
I am going to bed. Remarkably, I don't dream about autism. In my dreams, Jimmy talks. His voice is little and small, but it is clear and present. More often than not, I dream about the world before autism, not the world without autism. Mercifully, it's my happy place where I look good in a swimsuit and lie about on the beach without burning.
Sweet dreams, y'all.
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