Sensations Magnified, Fears Amplified
How could a parent ensure a child’s safety when his own body wouldn’t raise an alarm?
In the hallowed halls of Bliss Base, nestled between the familiar cadences of daily life, a less spoken about challenge began to emerge. It started with tiny observations, barely noticeable quirks, until the patterns became too pronounced to ignore. My son, with his sparkling intelligence and endearing quirks associated with Asperger’s, presented another layer to his unique tapestry — Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).
With each passing day, I began to see that his world was not just different in its perception, but it was overwhelmingly magnified. Sounds that were mere whispers to us were booming symphonies to him. The softest fabric felt coarse, the dimmest light seemed glaring. Every sensation dialed up to its maximum, except, paradoxically, his sense of pain.
This incongruity was both baffling and terrifying. Little accidents, which would have had any other child wailing in pain, were met with a shrug from him. A deep cut, a bruise, even a burn, evoked no reaction. The mother in me trembled at the implications. How many injuries had gone unnoticed? How could I ensure he was safe when his own body wouldn’t raise an alarm?
The fear of discovering too late that something was amiss with him became my constant shadow. The playground, a place of joy for many, became a landmine of potential dangers for me. I had to strike a delicate balance between being vigilant and not being overly protective, allowing him the freedom to explore while ensuring his safety.
But, as with every challenge we’d faced, I took this head-on:
Embracing the Challenge:
Open Conversations: We started discussing bodily sensations, trying to build his vocabulary around pain and discomfort. I hoped, with time, he might be able to articulate even the faintest whispers of pain.
Visual Aids: Using charts and illustrations, we began identifying different levels of injuries, aiming to help him visually recognize signs even if he couldn’t physically feel them.
Safety First: Regular safety drills became part of our routine. Practicing reactions to potential harm, like touching something hot, helped instil reflexive responses.
Medical Awareness: Wearing a medical ID bracelet and informing his teachers and close friends about his unique condition ensured more eyes were looking out for him.
Therapy & Guidance: Consulting with professionals, we learned various techniques and exercises to help him become more attuned to his body.
As days melted into nights and seasons changed at Bliss Base, our journey with SPD evolved. My son’s condition taught me the power of adaptability, the importance of understanding, and the unwavering spirit of a mother’s love. It wasn’t easy, but with patience, persistence, and a heart full of hope, we tread on, believing in brighter tomorrows and a world where my son’s unique perspective is both understood and celebrated.
