By The Wiz
My son had an appointment to go to an audiologist today. This is FINALLY, after a speech therapist told me to go to one, after I had to wait two months to get into the pediatrician so I could get a referral, then 3 weeks to get into the audiologist. Basically, I have been anticipating this since early December. The preschool screened his hearing again last week in anticipation.
First of all, you have to know, the day after I went to the pediatrician (where his hearing was also screened) the audiology center called me. They gave me explicit instructions as to where to go, it’s not in the hospital, it’s in this building near the hospital, but you have to get there in this weird way, and of course we’ll be sending you this in the mail, but we like to go over this verbally with the parent first, because it’s so counter-intuitive, how to get there.
Well, nothing came in the mail, but I wasn’t too worried about it, since I had written everything down, and found my way into this art building for this all important appointment. I walk in, and the first thing they say?
“You’re in the wrong building. You have to go into the hospital.”
“You mean the hospital that they explicitly told me not to go to?”
“Yep, that’s the one. They moved. This building is too loud for those screenings. Here’s a map. I’ll call them and tell them you’re on your way.”
So I find the hospital, wander around, and land in an audiologist’s office. They were clearly expecting me, which I was glad about, since this appointment was supposed to be an hour long, and we had already burned up half that time in logistics. I was glad to be seen at all, although I was fully prepared to pitch a momma bear fit if they rescheduled.
“So, why are you here? Did he pass his newborn hearing screen?”
I launch into the CAPD spiel. Yes, he’s passed all hearing screenings, including the 2 he’s had in the last month.
“This is a CAPD appointment? I can’t do those here. The equipment for that is in the other building. Did you tell us this was supposed to be a CAPD appointment?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud, along with a serious eyeroll, because really….what? The Loud Building has the equipment? And hey, the pediatrician made the call, and if he didn’t say CAPD, I don’t know what to tell you, because he knew full well that’s what I wanted.
“I don’t do CAPD screenings. There is a specific test for that, and I don’t do it. Have you contacted the University? Now, do you know if he passed his newborn hearing screen?”
Why would I have contacted the University? Yes, he can hear. He passed the newborn hearing, no problem.
So, what do you think happened? After all this anticipation, all this waiting, all this readiness to finally get an official diagnosis so I can get an education plan put into place because kindergarten is not that far away, my son gets ANOTHER FREAKIN’ HEARING SCREEN, because, you know, he might not have passed his newborn hearing test. I fully think she did the screen just so she could do something. Guess what? He can hear.
She then calls the other audiologist, talks for a while, turns around and drops a bomb.
“We can’t accurately diagnose CAPD until age 7. He’s not cognitively ready to take the test until then.”
??????????? Have any of you heard that before? Because I would really like to know.
“And, you know, there’s no real therapy for it. But, I asked if she could call you tomorrow when she comes in, and she’s willing to do so.”
Now, isn’t that special?
I can just hear the other audiologist on the line saying “I’m not going to screen a 4 year old, and why should I, since there’s no developed therapy specifically for it, and why is she there?”
So, basically, the other audiologist gets to call me tomorrow to talk to me, as a way to smooth mum’s feathers, I’m sure, and let me tell you, I am not looking forward to that phone call anymore than she is, and I highly doubt she’ll call me. Anyone want to place bets on that one?
So, I fired questions at this poor woman who does hearing screens all day long, and basically knows nothing.
“If this can’t be diagnosed until age 7, don’t you think somebody, from the speech therapist to the pediatrician, could have mentioned that? It might have saved us all some time here.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t really know.”
Yeah, well, you didn’t either, since you said nothing about it until you chatted up your colleague there, and you were hoping to send me to the University for this test, but why, I don’t have any idea.
“He’s a high functioning kid, he sat and did everything he was supposed to, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Yeah, I’m sure he will, since he’s raised red flags to everyone who spends any serious amount of time with him. But yes, he sat in your little booth and did your screen. He’s an expert at hearing screens by now. Too bad that’s not what they do all day in kindergarten.
I was out of there within 15 minutes. Why did they give me an hour block of time for that waste of resources? They just thought I would magically have trouble parking? Methinks the left hand knoweth not what the right hand doeth over there, and now I am left with….what? Waiting for him to turn seven so they can screen him and then tell me there’s no therapy?
But tomorrow I get a nice courtesy phone call from somebody, and I am solely convinced the only reason for that is because I was in the room while the first audiologist made the phone call, and she was grasping for something to tell me.
Seriously, this poor woman, she was truly set up to fail here. I don’t blame her, she was told nothing about what I needed beforehand. I didn’t want a hearing screen, I didn’t need a hearing screen, but that was all she could do, that and beg people to call me. I’m sure it was a blast for her as well.
Then on the way home, I stopped at Pier 1 to return a drapery panel that I thought might work in my house (it didn’t, hence the return) and the receipt blew out of my hands and now I am out 50 bucks for a drapery panel that I don’t need. I love throwing money into the wind like that. It makes for excellent karma.
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