Costs of therapy

I found myself today, pen poised over a contract, with that uneasy, churning feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was about to embark on a new therapy program with my daughter Elizabeth, based on Dr Gutstein’s theory of dynamic intelligence called Relationship Development Intervention. A month ago when I tracked down a Consultant who was willing to work with us I was bubbling with enthusiasm. But now, as I read through all the paperwork and work out the financial cost (about $6000 per annum) I can’t help wonder whether I am doing the right thing. I have funding under the Helping Children with Autism Package for the first $6000, but after that it’ll be coming out of my own pocket, a cost of up to $25 000 over five years on top of her regular Speech and Occupational Therapy appointments. However, this is just a drop in the ocean in comparison to ABA which costs up to $45 000 per year.

Last night the local Kindy and Crèche rang to say that Elizabeth had been accepted into their two-day program next year. It had always been the intention that Elizabeth was to split these two days between the Special School and the Kindy so as to get the benefit of integrating into a mainstream setting whilst continuing with her therapy program at the Special School. The Kindy was all for this. However, as I found out last night, I was still up for the full attendance costs. I asked to have the weekend to think over it. Inside I was seething. Again I will be hit in the pocket. Let’s just say, she will not be attending the Kindy and Crèche next year.

At the beginning of the year a Speech Therapist attended my home for two hours every Thursday for six weeks. The total cost: $2500. That’s $200 an hour. At the moment Elizabeth is seeing a private therapist at $140 an hour. I would like to point out that I am a single, working Mother who receives zilch child support. But at least I am working. I could not imagine trying to survive on the pension with the never-ending costs of raising a special needs child. Just with rent and therapy, there’ll be nothing left over to eat, let alone affording everyday necessities such as running a car (and yes, when you have a child with disabilities a car is a necessity).

Yesterday I kept my friend company whilst she got her hair cut, dyed and straightened. The hairdressers were packed with other women getting similarly pampered. However, I did not feel jealous or resentful (I’ve left my own locks grow out natural and long to save money). I had just purchased some books for my daughter and thought the money better spent. Actually, the idea of spending three hours in a hair salon makes me itch with nervousness. This made me think to where I’ve come to in my life. Although I feel resentful at the high costs of my daughter’s therapy, I think I’ve grown more down-to-earth and appreciative of the simple things in life. My daughter has certainly taught me that as she delights in the feel of the wind caressing her face as she sways back and forth at this moment on the swing in the backyard. And yes, I miss travelling to Italy and buying expensive clothes, but I think I’m becoming a better person because of it.