Thus it begins.

On Friday of last week, I received a letter in the post that sparked hope and joy.  Dude had been referred for ADHD assessment back in September, and we'd been waiting for an appointment since then.  The letter, the glorious letter, was that appointment.  The time frame?  Today.

!!!

Yes, three days notice.  I rearranged work and volunteering commitments, because let's face it, we weren't going to miss it after waiting three months.  I grabbed Dude from the school at the appropriate time and we trundled off to Hayes to the address we'd been given.

From the minute I sat down, I knew this wasn't going to be the first step in the right direction to getting the man child some help.  There were two women in the room, one an ADHD nurse and one a consultant psychiatrist.  The latter took the reins, and it all went downhill from there.

I was asked why there was any suspicion that Dude has ADHD.  I answered with "three years of documentation from the school, the chiropractor, and ourselves, including a brush with Children and Family Services".  Over the course of the conversation, I was handed these gems:

• "You don't need a diagnosis to get him a one on one support worker, the school just says that so they get more funding."  (You do need a diagnosis to get a one on one, the school can't afford to hire someone without the money to pay them.)

• "I've been watching him the whole time we've been speaking, he plays constructively, he looks at you, he takes direction, he's a normal six year old boy."  (For half an hour, during which he interrupted me roughly twenty times, built/crashed/rebuilt a rocket out of magnets, and ended up raising and lowering the roller blind for the last five minutes.  Did she expect him to drop his trousers and crap on the carpet or throw a chair?)

• "You need to take a parenting course, here's a leaflet with details."  (I can't even touch this one.)

• "We only have two options, you take the course or we write him a prescription."  (Are you effing kidding me?)

• "We wouldn't diagnose this early, thirteen or fourteen is more common."  (Absolute nonsense.  Not to mention the fact that apparently she'd rather him wait to get support until after he's been labelled a problem child and his grades are permanent.)

• "We're not here to support the school."  (This in response to me saying fine, if I take the course they suggest that would be support for at home, but what would they do to support him at school? Blew my mind, I'm not asking them to support the school, I'm asking them what support I can expect for MY SON at school.  Do they want the teachers to go on the same parenting course?  Asinine.)

And my personal favourite...

• "Why would they give you medication for ADHD?  You're a grown woman with children, you obviously have coping mechanisms that work fine."  (!!!!!!!!!!)

This is just a fraction of the dismissive, insensitive, frankly insulting interaction.  The ADHD nurse was taking notes of our conversation, and originally seemed more likely to interact on a sensible level, but she was completely shouted down by this ignorant woman who had already decided  before we even entered the room that we were wasting her time.  There was nothing I could say or do to shake her total conviction. 

So, my boy is still dangling in the wind.  He has come home more times that I'm comfortable with crying because he thinks he's a bad kid.  He says he tries to be good, he just can't.  He's getting a complex, and all I can do is reiterate that he's not a bad kid, he just occasionally makes silly choices like all of us do at times.  It sucks.

It doesn't end here.  I've reported the entire shambles to the SEN lead at the school, who has given me a couple of other avenues to try.  I've already got a call in on one of them.  I'll be making a complaint about the unbelievable waste of my time today was, and I'm thanking my lucky stars that I'm not in my early twenties and easily bullied.  I can't imagine how many children get hung out to dry by a system that contradicts itself so frequently.  When they say you have to advocate for your children, they mean it.

I'm rolling up my sleeves.  Bring it on.