The Massachusetts Department of Health has an Early Intervention program to assist children with developmental problems. My nephew went through the program from around one-and-a-half through to age four, and it changed his life and the lives of our immediate family.
My nephew cried all the time as a baby. I'm not talking normal baby fussing or crabby baby fussing, or even sick baby fussing, I'm talking full-on, red-in-the-face, top of his lungs screaming until he lost his voice. Constantly. My sister had to carry him at all times, as he would totally flip out if he was put down for an instant. He wouldn't consent to let anyone else hold him. She had to wear him on her back in a sling sticking out of the shower curtain while she showered. She was, essentially, a marsupial for a year. Bathing him was difficult, as water seemed to cause him physical pain. Even in a warm bath on a warm day his lips and nails would turn blue, his fingers and toes would turn icy, and his teeth would chatter. But the worst was what we called his "baby OCD" -- he'd twist his hair until it fell out, leaving round sores on his soft little scalp, and chew on his fingers until they bled. This behavior was very upsetting to watch, because it obviously simultaneously pained and comforted him, and we all felt at a loss as to how to help him. We really couldn't take him anywhere, as his behavior elicited complaints and sometimes insults from strangers.
On one outing, however, a woman approached my sister and said that she thought my nephew might have Sensory Integrative Dysfunction, and that my sister should contact Early Intervention. The EI people evaluated and diagnosed him with sensory issues, and enrolled him in a program in which he was exposed to the stuff that bothered him and taught to cope with it. They also trained us to help him. It was extremely cool. We learned, for example, that he cried when he wasn't being carried because he was experiencing severe vertigo, and by holding him tightly and spinning him in the air we could "reset" his brain. He was very sensitive to sounds, so we bought him a hat and earmuffs, and were able to take him to restaurants. If he became overwhelmed, we could brush his arms and the soles of his feet with those soft, plastic brushes surgeons use to wash their hands, and it would instantly calm him. A lot of stuff we learned to do with him was really fun, like swinging him in a blanket or squishing him between cushions, and he enjoyed his EI therapy and considered it play.
The change in him was immediate and remarkable -- in just a few weeks he went from being that kid you see screaming and beating his fists on the floor (when you turn to your friend and say "no kid of mine would ever...") to being an adorable little laughing guy who yelled "HUGS!" when you walked into the room, and smothered you in love. With his sensory distractions removed, he was able to learn songs and poems, and showed a natural talent for sports and skating (he began skating on his own -- that is, without a cone, not without instruction! -- at about two, and now competes professionally at the national level). He's now nine, achieves perfect marks in every class, and is enrolled in his school's Gifted & Talented program. He plays soccer, hockey, and baseball, and is an enthusiastic skateboarder. He just enrolled in guitar lessons, and is forming a band with his sister and friends. Most importantly, he's the most decent, pleasant kid you could ever hope to meet. He actually enjoys hanging out with us old folks, but is also one of the most popular kids in his class. His teachers say he's a joy, and they wish they had an entire class like him. They say that he brings peace to the playground, because he's friends with both the bullies and the picked-on kids, and negotiates between them. He never complains or whines or asks for presents or demands anything, and he still gives and receives hugs freely, even in front of his peers. People who meet him marvel at what a great little dude he is, and always end saying darkly, "well, we'll see how long THAT lasts." But they've been saying it for years, and he just keeps getting better. I think he might even turn into that rare breed of non-hideous teenager. All signs point to "yes."
I've heard many, many times in many, many forums and articles and what-have-you that Sensory Integrative Dysfunction is a myth, that it's a product of an overly concerned culture, that the symptoms are normal childhood behavior that should be disciplined, not indulged, and so on, and I have no scientific rebuttal to these claims. However, having witnessed my nephew's remarkable transformation firsthand, I can attest to the success of his treatment, and I hope that other kids like him have access to the same resources. When we first sat down with the therapist she explained that SI is a product of strange "wiring" in the brain, and if caught early enough, that wiring could be reset. She likened it to that experiment we all enjoyed as kids when you grab a cold pipe and a warm pipe at the same time, and your brain tells you you're being burned. In my nephew's case, this sort of informational misfire was more widespread and had greater physical and psychological manifestations. And as intensive as the Intervention program was, it was no doubt less expensive in the long run than years of special ed classes, followed by therapy for emotional problems incurred through years of frustration, followed by a stint in juvenile detention, followed by jail, followed by unemployment, and so on. I think it's possible that there are fewer bad kids and brats than we'd previously thought, and more kids that need a kind of help we adults aren't trained to give. And surely that's a good thing, because all we have to do is learn. And if the kids can learn to think and react differently, than so can we, right?
