The Good Test
Sometimes we feel as if we are being tested. Often, it is a
challenge to our current reality that makes us uncomfortable, or uneasy. At
times, we may be "tested" by something that is a recurrent theme in
our lives. Perhaps it is a situation with a loved one, or another instance with
a team member at work, or even the local green grocer in one's neighborhood.
The test often is similar, but the end result is usually the same: Will I make
the same mistake I always do? Or, will I challenge myself to rise above the
challenge and conquer the demon that awaits me.
My youngest daughter is suffering in school with a reading
disability that the school has convinced itself is ADD. I had been summoned by
the school administration to a forum meeting between the psychologist, the
social worker, the teachers, and the principal on the last day of the school
year regarding her needs. Yes, the LAST
day of the school year. Already that, in
itself, is so wrong on so many levels, but I digress.
At this meeting, it was clear that the staff was convinced
my child was ADD and needed ritalin...and pronto. So, I stopped their yammering about her, and
I said "Look, I see where you are all coming from. I disagree that she is
ADD, but I will bring her to a neurologist to see what he thinks, are we done
here?" After they discussed amongst
themselves, the principal chimed in "That sounds like a great idea, and
while you are at it, get her a T.O.V.A. test!" I said "O.K." and left. I had no idea what that test was, but I
figured that we would go to the neurologist first. I did know that it was a play on words because the word "Tova" in Hebrew means "Good."
So, off we went to the neurologist. A lovely British fellow,
who was not convinced that my daughter had ADD at all. He thought the T.O.V.A. (Test
of Variables of Attention) test may be a good idea, but he was sure that the
results would be the same as he had noted. This child's needs are not for ADD,
there is something else that is preventing her reading acquisition needs.
I made an appointment for the test, and two days ago, I
received a phone call from the psychologist administering the test.
The conversation proceeded as follows:
Psychologist: Hi, Ariel, this is Shira. Your daughter has a
T.O.V.A. test tomorrow with me at 11:30.
Me: Yes, thank you for the reminder, I will be there.
Psychologist: Please remember that she needs to bring her Ritalin
for the test.
Me: But, I am coming to
you to see if she needs Ritalin!
Psychologist: Well, this test is administered in two parts.
The first part is without the Ritalin, the second part is with the Ritaliin.
So, we can see what happens when the child is titrating the drug.
Me: But, again, my daughter has never taken Ritalin. How
will this really show anything?
Psychologist: Go to your doctor, and get one dose, just for
the test.
Me:(unconvinced) OK, I will do so.
Psychologist: Great! See you tomorrow.
I hung
up the phone, and I felt terrible. I am an English teacher, and a licensed
Social Worker, and I have never felt so dirty and deceptive in my life. This was not my client I was dealing
with....it was my daughter. And, I was being told to actively push a medication
upon a child who had never taken it before.
It felt so wrong...but I was desperate. I needed to have her take the
test. I had already twisted the arm of my office to allow me to take her to the
test during office hours. I felt like I
was about to sell our souls to the devil. But, if this was the only way to help
my dear daughter, I would bite the bullet.
So, I
went to my best friend, and asked her for one pill of Ritalin. I knew that her
son takes the medication. And, I knew that one less pill would not affect his
care. In truth, she told me that her son was changing his medication anyway,
and the Ritalin was irrelevant. There
was a newer drug he needed, something that is longer lasting, with fewer side effects.
I
walked out of my friend's house, with the Ritalin in my pocket, and I felt like
I had done a drug deal. It felt so
dirty, and wrong. Taking a drug for my
little girl's test....it felt like the classic Ethical Dilemma by Konigsberg
that I had learnt in college many years ago. There is a classic story of a man
who knows his child needs a medication that he cannot afford. He knows that the
pharmacist has it, and that if he steals it from the pharmacist, he can save
his child's life. But, if he does not steal it, his child will suffer a very
painful death. The father must make a judgment call that will affect his son's
life, and his own within minutes. The ethical dilemma is debated amongst
college students of what shall this father do? Shall he save his son, and end
up in jail for life? Or, shall he go home to watch his son die the most painful
death of all.
Although
my child is not dying, my child is suffering a "death" of sorts in
school. She cannot read or write at grade level. And, she feels as if she is
stuck in a quagmire of meaningless nonsense at school. Her speaking ability is
way beyond her years. So, she makes sure that her opinions are heard loud and
clear. She can debate my oldest children until they are blue with envy. But,
she cannot properly read or write.
And so,
I decided to take the Ritalin, place it in my pocket, and hoped that her taking
one single dose would not break her spirit for the day. It was a tough call, but Konigsberg may have
been proud of my volition to do so!
My
daughter entered the test with curiosity and alacrity. As I sat outside, she played a computer game
that monitered her attention and impulsivity issues on the screen. Then, the
door opened and the psychologist told me that she has done well for the first
half of the test and we need to give her the Ritalin, wait an hour, and return for
the second half. So, we gave her the
pill, and went off for lunch. I decided
to treat her for pancakes at a local restaurant. God knows, that little peanut deserved it!
We
returned to the testing site, and my daughter returned to the test. She completed
the tasks set on the screen, and the psychologist invited me back into the room
for a discussion of the results. It had appeared that my daughter did not have
ADD, and that the Ritalin actually made her MORE impulsive on the test.
I began
to secretly smile to myself. "Yes," I thought," Mother always
knows best!" My child did not have
ADD. The school wanted to prescribe the
medication just to make her disappear into the walls, and to quiet her in the
classroom. Ritalin, they thought, is the
magic elixir. Alas, it is not the elixir for this child.
After
the test, I talked to my child about what the drug felt like. She replied "Mommy, I felt like I was
floating on the side of the chair, like it was in mid-air." "Oh, God," I thought, "I have given my daughter the
equivalent of L.S.D. for her little brain!" She was tripping as if she was a character in
Alice In Wonderland! A nine year old, floating in an alternate reality just
for her to pay attention in school.
"Well,
honey" I said, "You will never have to feel that way again! You will
never have to take that pill. The test
shows that you do not need it!"
"Good!"
my daughter replied, with her bright dimpled smile, and her cheery
attitude. "Now, can we just go
home?" she begged.
"Yes,
honey, the GOOD TEST is now over!" I replied. And, I flipped on the radio and listened to
the following Gloria Gaynor song on the radio:
Oh no, not I, I will survive,
As long as I know how to live
I know I will survive
I've got all my life to live, I've got all my life to
give,
And, I'll survive
I will survive
I will survive
Yes, sweet child. Your strength is greater than any Good
Test can grasp. You are a fighter. Keep
fighting that good fight. Because, I will be there for you always. You will always show me the strength of how
to live and how to survive.
