On November 25, 2019, Lennon had his very first speech therapy session (outside of early intervention). There was only one place in town that took our insurance and I was ecstatic to have an appointment.
I was optimistic too. Maybe the lady he was assigned would discover just what Lennon needed to make things click. She seemed knowledgeable and Lennon didn’t shy away from her like he does with many. I really liked her.
That is I really liked her until early January. She was requesting skills from Lennon that were so far advanced (for him) he had no idea what she wanted. He was frustrated. But she was persistent.
He mastered certain activities with her, struggled with others, but I could tell he was trying.
Then earlier this week she told us that she would no longer be seeing Lennon as a client. That he wasn’t ready for speech therapy.
I drove home crying. This wasn’t the first time he had gotten the boot from a program. A program that was designed to help kids like him. The other place that discontinued service for him claimed they didn’t have the supports needed for Lennon. Which also made no sense as we were there thanks to a grant program in which they knew his entire situation.
I guess everyone only wants to work with kids they know will be success stories. And that might not be my Lennon. But that doesn’t mean we stop trying.
Anyhow, this place, AKA the only speech therapy center in my town that takes my insurance, would not see him. They said we can come back in a few months to re-evaluate. Which I will, because even though I’m upset with them, I do believe that speech therapy will greatly benefit my lil man.