Entering hour two of neuropsych. One twenty-minute break and then he had to go back in because the psychologist came for him and because he was going in anyway to escape the high-pitched squeaking of a very little girl -- four? five? -- in the waiting room. No hand-held device could cancel out that agony. (I think it's rather a cute squeaking, but admittedly after fifteen minutes it does wear on one.)
Two hours is much better than the one I'd anticipated. He did emerge looking either like sleep was immanent or he was on some sort of mind-altering drug. Again a boy I don't know very well.
But on the other hand when he couldn't get the game he wanted on his PSP he willingly read his zombie novel on my Kindle. Whether the words made any sense to him I do not know but he did seem to be following them.
Now he is back in there. I wonder how he's doing on the tasks she sets him? He said so far it's all been pretty easy. They do start out easy and then get harder as the hours pass.
I keep hoping he's going to surprise me and exceed his performance from three years ago. Or even just match it. That would be such a joy. I am really hoping I'm just an overanxious mom who is overreacting. Except every time I've "overreacted" about my kids -- at least according to Lars -- they've ended up hospitalized or thoroughly worked over by specialists who were also concerned. And then diagnosed with crappy stuff. Almost always, my hunches have been right, and Lars has been waaay off.
So here is my hunch about Benjy: I think something is wrong with his brain. Not just because of the seizures, which in themselves indicate there is something wrong in the brain. I mean, I think there is a structural problem in there. I am praying in my Jewish-atheist way that I am wrong. I think the Universe owes us BIG TIME. I am calling in its debt.
I'm thinking the best case scenario is that the seizures are just-because, and they can be easily controlled with med. No problems inside that handsome head except some neural misfiring. I can live with that. It might mean my boy will come back to me fairly intact. It probably does mean that.
And maybe they are NOT EVEN SEIZURES I'm seeing. I mean, I know I claim to be some sort of expert but the truth is I'm a Dickens scholar. And Dickens really has no answers for me at the moment.
Hey, maybe he's JUST TIRED. Or JUST TWELVE. Or JUST GOING THROUGH PUBERTY. And I and his doctors have just jumped the gun. Maybe this is really not a big deal.