Dyspraxia

We've wondered for a while now whether Sam had dyspraxia; he's as bright as a button, but anything requiring co-ordination and focus can be a challenge.  He's an absolute whizz on his scooter because he only needs to push it along with one foot and steering on a micro-scooter just requires pressure on the handlebars - but put him on a bike and the combination of balancing, moving the pedals *and* moving the handlebars to steer is too much for him.  Likewise, learning to swim is proving to be a very slow process - some days when he's in the zone with concentration and focus, he does really well, but on a day when he's tired or his hay fever is playing up, it looks like he's got lead weights on his legs as he ploughs across the pool.

As parents, we had observed this without too much concern and a certain amount of amusement - Sam is totally adorable in his clumsy endeavours.  However, last March his teacher raised concerns about his handwriting and his inability to hold his pencil in the requisite pincer grip, and I decided that perhaps we should be more proactive about the whole situation.  I read an article on teaching dyspraxic children and it rang so many bells, it was as if a group of campanologists had taken up residence in the house.

Sam doesn't have all the symptoms listed in the article by any means, and as he's in the gifted group at school for literacy and numeracy, there are no worries educationally.  But if there's one thing I've learned from getting his verbal dyspraxic diagnosed and treated, it's that you have to be the prime mover in getting things done, that you can't expect anyone else to do it for you.  His teacher and the SNC at school seemed a little taken aback that I was going to get a medical opinion, but I see no advantage in dealing with this any other way.

And so, last week, to the Paediatrics Consultants at the hospital.  Who were brilliant.  Sam did the whole series of tests that he did as a 3 year old when his speech problems were diagnosed, and he did them perfectly with a sly sense of humour that obviously delighted and amused the medical staff.  Developmentally, he's fine (which we knew) and there's no neurological problems that they could discover, but they watched him write his name and examined how he held a pencil.  They agreed with the teacher that this is going to prove a problem, that he won't be able to write quickly, neatly or form smaller letters if he continues to hold then pencil in that way.  The fact that his hand hurts when he holds it with a pincer grip for longer than a few seconds is also a problem.

The next steps are for observation - both on our part and on the part of Sam's new teacher in Year 2.  There is then a questionnaire for us both to complete and send off to the Occupational Therapy department for evaluation.  The best outcome for us would be for him to receive OT help with his handwriting whilst in school - I'm perfectly happy to do work with him at home, but having this done by a proper professional in the school setting would be ideal.

This is all very positive stuff.  We haven't been sent away with nothing or dismissed as worriers (which I think the school were inclined to do, to be honest), and any help we can get will be a massive bonus.  In situations like this, the NHS comes into its own, without a shadow of a doubt  - can you imagine trying to do this in a country where you need health insurance just to see a GP?