Naked

Getting services for a child with a disability is a lot like walking around naked in front of strangers. Some people may not mind this. I do.

Let me explain.

Zane needs assistance with mobility, communication, and the functional use of his hands (you know, like feeding himself and maybe perhaps eventually writing?). All this requires the help of therapists and therapies. In order to get those outside of school, the state enters the picture…unless, of course, you want to pay for private therapists. But that’s a little like having a private nurse or doctor (i.e., only for the well-off). And I’ll tell you, that ain’t happenin’ until I meet my long-term writing goals. And even then…

Anyway, in order for Zane to receive PT, Speech, and OT outside of school and IDEA, the state does a lot of poking around. They want medical records and financials and details about your life since before you can even remember. They come out to your house (a place I used to consider sacred) and sit on your couch, glimpse your pictures on the wall, and maybe drink from your water glasses. They leave their shoes on when you just cleaned the floor. They take a little something away when they go: A feeling of privacy and any remaining notion that my house is my own. And it’s not just one person. It’s multiple people. Strangers.

You see, some people don’t mind being naked. They don’t mind sharing water glasses or financials. I do. I feel exposed. But I want the best for my son. I want to give him every opportunity. In order to do that, I have to take off my proverbial clothes.