When you are raising kids with special needs, you are required to wear many hats. Medical and educational gatekeeper, nurse/doctor, personal assistant, pharmacist, lawyer, therapist, advocate, nutritionist, high up tight rope walker, and of course, Mom.

I’m positive (she says sarcastically) that the doctors absolutely love it when I question a test being done or not being done, or when I question a med change affecting other aspects of the body because I read an adverse effect of the drug in something like .00001% of people who take the drug. I freely admit that I’ve never been to medical school and haven’t a clue about drug interactions.

So, the Advocate was out and ready. During the Fall I started the process of getting our paperwork gathered to request a visual assessment by the school system for Gage. Right now, we have several ideas about his visual needs, but nothing for certain. OMA is not considered a visual impairment (um…okay) by government standards. And it’s rare. Never heard of in our school system. Even so, together with his teachers we have implemented several things we think may help (based on input from my friend T’s son, a family I met on a message board, who has OMA) but I felt he still needed to be visually assessed. In October I had Dr. Eye write a letter explaining the need for such an assessment.

Just before winter break we had a regularly scheduled IEP team meeting to discuss Gage’s progress. Two days before the meeting I sent an email to the lead special ed person (Interrelated Teacher) at the school to tell her I would be challenging the school board’s position on not to have a visual assessment on Gage and would appreciate any input on the best way to challenge that decision.

Meeting Day

Picture me: Ready with binder with several sheets of paper dedicated to the effects of OMA and how to help Gage, a letter from the eye doctor saying he needed a visual assessment even though he can see 20/20, a lawyer’s name, a small piece of paper with my list of items I felt needed to be discussed, and a book titled: The Complete IEP Guide, How to Advocate for Your Special Ed Child. And I was ready. I had read the appeals chapter, had my notes in hand.

Picture them: sitting around the table, 4 of them, welcoming me with smiles. One of them was the Special Ed director for three schools including ours. She was warm, understanding and helpful. She took the Dr. Eye letter and said she needed one more form filled out and she would check with the County. Within a week of the meeting we had our answer: Yes. Visual assessment would be done.

Something is very, very wrong.

That was easy.

Simple.

Hassle-free.

Uncomplicated.

And a completely lovely way to start the year.