tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365638472012-01-25T12:02:27.475+10:00S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.comBlogger471100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-66539093051415508822012-01-07T19:34:00.000+10:002012-01-07T19:34:25.475+10:00

I cannot believe we are almost into the second week of January. Frankly, I’m glad to see the end of 2011. For the first half of the year my five year old daughter was plagued with illness and then just as things were looking up I found myself in the emergency department in excruciating pain. Three months and three surgical procedures later I can finally start focusing again on my writing.

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-20760345654774485582011-10-09T12:12:00.000+10:002011-10-09T12:12:35.571+10:00

It is a truly beautiful Sunday morning. I am in shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops, bathing in the soft Spring sunshine on a swing seat in the backyard. The smell of sun warmed grass and crushed eucalyptus leaves permeate the air. What a difference to last week when I was shivering in jumper and jeans. My parents are looking after my daughter for the weekend while I come down from my pain

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-14645708977443048022011-10-06T10:36:00.000+10:002011-10-08T06:07:14.928+10:00

It is well into October and I am sitting at my computer in a jumper and jeans, looking out into dreary, grey skies, my hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea.  With a lot of my short stories set in a desert scape it is difficult to get inspired with rain lashing against the windows.  I guess that is why I love the dry heat of a typical summer in south-east Queensland.   All I have to do is burn

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-12373564483861595652011-09-27T02:04:00.000+10:002011-09-27T02:04:29.218+10:00

Well just as my daughters health finally starts improving, my own health takes a slide. After a couple of trips to the emergency ward, a CT Scan and MRI, I have been diagnosed as having Obstructive Uropathy (an obstructed kidney or PUJ obstruction) that left unchecked can cause renal failure. It was something I was supposedly born with but did not present itself until now. I am booked in for

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-83562405731920742912011-07-30T08:20:00.001+10:002011-07-30T08:20:53.546+10:00

As well as an Occupational and Speech Therapist, Elizabeth has been seeing a Physiotherapist over the last two years to try to tackle her toe walking. She literally walks, runs and jumps on the very tips of toes that’ll put a professional ballerina to shame. Despite regular exercises, the physio has recently noticed a stiffening of Elizabeth’s hips and a slight change in posture, as well as, a

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-45296848427381448542011-07-30T07:59:00.000+10:002011-07-30T07:59:32.634+10:00

I cannot believe how long it has been since I posted on this blog. A lot has happened since March. First, the grommets were not successful, in fact the ear infections worsened (despite following the instructions from the ENT to the letter). My daughter was put on five lots of oral antibiotics and two lots of antibiotic ear drops immediately after the op before her Doctor threw up her hands and

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-87130934115479241042011-03-19T06:59:00.000+10:002011-07-29T17:40:24.339+10:00

After eight courses of antibiotics over the last six months, my daughter finally had her adenoids removed and grommets inserted yesterday. Although I have no health insurance I still opted to go private as I could not imagine letting my daughter going through another two years of hell just to save a few bucks. Even though it was only day surgery we were admitted to a private room with plenty of

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-24260946507341502542010-12-16T18:36:00.001+10:002011-01-22T07:26:53.558+10:00

Each year I write about how for me Christmas is a time reflect on all the things I am thankful for. I then set upon writing down new resolutions for the New Year, filled with hope and prosperity for the year to come. This year, however, I just can’t seem to get into the holiday spirit and just want the year to end as quickly as possible. It has been a terrible year for illnesses, and my

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-10566954053465866882010-09-04T08:11:00.001+10:002010-09-21T11:35:11.420+10:00

It’s going onto two am. My daughter is restless, she won’t sleep. Giving up trying to get her to bed I’ve made her a warm drink and put on a soothing DVD, thankful I don’t have to work today. I don’t know how I’m going to go in a few weeks though when my night shifts swing to five am starts. At least at the moment I can usually get in an extra hours sleep before she starts demanding breakfast (

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-67896187789093891682010-08-06T06:49:00.002+10:002010-10-02T12:47:16.689+10:00

Yesterday my daughter had her first appointment with her new Occupational Therapist, Priya. Unlike previous therapists who were usually straight out of university, Priya has fifteen years experience working with Autistic children. She employs Floortime, which is a specific technique to follow both the child’s natural emotional interests (lead) and at the same time challenge the child towards

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-42410269628244025492010-08-01T07:46:00.000+10:002011-01-22T07:27:07.394+10:00

Every year around July, the endless, dreary days of winter bring on a melancholy of spirit that is hard to shake. It is not the cold. It is the greyness, the lack of light that affects me. But just as I thought I could not stand yet another rainy, overcast day I woke up this morning to sun streaming through my bedroom blinds. Making the most of it I threw open all the windows, letting sunshine

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-52709010431882058682010-07-02T07:32:00.003+10:002011-01-22T07:24:39.578+10:00

I feel the closest to my daughter when I’m reading to her. I love watching the look of utter delight on her face, the way she shakes her little hands when she is excited, the way she hits the page signalling ‘more’. Being non-verbal, the ability to read is very important, so I have tried, since she was very little, to read aloud to her six to eight books a day (sometimes more on a particularly

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-40171400444079777442010-06-13T09:53:00.007+10:002010-06-21T16:25:06.741+10:00

It has almost been a month since I last posted. Gee, doesn’t time fly. At the moment I’m sitting in the backyard in the early afternoon sun, watching my daughter as she flits from the garden to the swing to the clothesline. She never stays still. It is delightful to watch. At fours years of age the world is still a wonder to her. It has been six months since I took over her therapy and she is

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-48311777823718821742010-04-11T09:08:00.003+10:002011-01-22T07:27:23.977+10:00

These photos were taken at 0700 this morning, as you can see a thick fog blankets everything. This type of fog is a rarity in the outer Northern suburbs, hence the reason I took the photos. It was quite a pleasant way to wake up, with mist clinging to the screens and the drizzly greyness making it necessary to turn on the lamps. It was quite cosy really. Yesterday I had some friends and

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-53682023614636144642010-04-03T07:51:00.001+10:002011-01-22T07:27:50.578+10:00

Many modern Wiccans and Pagans celebrate Easter as a time of renewal and rebirth. Derived from the word Eostre (also known as Ostara), an ancient Anglo-Saxon Goddess, she symbolized the rebirth of the day at dawn and the rebirth of life in the spring. Not particularly religious, the Pagan celebration of Easter has a certain appeal to my romantic sensibilities. This has become even more poignant

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-14926296821306659512010-03-28T07:57:00.003+10:002010-04-03T08:56:37.400+10:00

This year I’ve taken upon my daughter’s therapy after a very disappointing (and expensive) year last year. Through the Autism initiative I attended the PECS workshop in February and have since implemented Phase I. Elizabeth’s grasp of it is coming along slowly but I think that has got to do with stubbornness then anything else. Sometimes she will hand a card over to me to request something, but

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-79579808039277280922010-03-20T07:57:00.001+10:002010-04-03T08:58:07.032+10:00

Being such a beautiful day yesterday, I threw the curtains wide and opened the blinds to let in the warm sunlight into the living room. After a short bout of illness, Elizabeth seemed to her old self again, content to play with her toys whilst I updated her PECS folder and downloaded some educational software off the internet. The pace was a nice change to last week. That is, until someone walked

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-89230175450735721832010-03-13T04:02:00.001+10:002010-04-03T09:00:21.975+10:00

I often wonder why I achieve very little in the way of writing some days, and then I sit down and reflect on my week and wonder how I managed to achieve anything at all. This week is one of those weeks. As per usual, it is the middle of the night once again as I write this. My daughter woke up at 01:30am this time. Feeling a little nausea from lack of sleep I took her downstairs, made her a warm

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-61917028870683035852010-03-11T10:29:00.001+10:002010-04-03T09:01:32.837+10:00

One of my daughters' favourite past-times is exploring the complex in which we live. Her favourite haunts being the pool and a little alcove, filled with pebbles and ringed with large stones, nestled between two houses. Every other afternoon my Father pops over and calls for Elizabeth through the screen door. Her face lights up and she immediately stops whatever she was doing and takes my hand to

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-34739171117556929292010-03-01T06:23:00.003+10:002011-01-22T07:23:09.476+10:00

It is another three am wakening and I'm glad for the dampening effect of the heavy rain outside as my daughter runs around the house squealing. I actually don’t mind these early mornings as it gives me guilt free time to read or write for, as far as I’m concerned, the clock doesn’t start until six am. I also love sitting at my desk at this time of night, watching the first blush of morning creep

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-28918835126040121062010-02-14T04:18:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:03:47.089+10:00

It’s three am in the morning and my daughter has decided that she has slept enough for the night. She runs around upstairs squealing at the top of her lungs, every now and again collasping in fits of giggles. I try to hush her and bring her back to bed but she is too excitable. She wakes up like this at least once a week, and usually on the morning before I go back to work so I’m always bleary

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-10109557190669983622010-02-12T11:01:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:04:24.198+10:00

This morning for a change I woke up before my daughter. As it was still so early I laid quietly beside her and just watched her little face. She seemed so at peace. As the minutes ticked by a sweet smile tugged at her lips. I would have loved to know what she was dreaming about. All too soon she began to stir. Opening her beautiful blue eyes, she spied me lying beside her. With a yell of delight

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-7722537246757910552010-01-29T12:14:00.004+10:002010-04-03T09:11:00.820+10:00

My daughter, Elizabeth, returned back to school today. Although she only attends Kindy once a week, I still looked toward this day with a deep sense of apprehension. I was especially worried about the composition of her classroom. Last year she was blessed to be in a class with four other little girls. Would she be so lucky this year? Some of the boys at the school are quite loud and boisterous

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-80261038839764338692010-01-24T08:43:00.006+10:002010-04-03T09:11:33.618+10:00

I just love this photo. After an adventurous day at the beach, Elizabeth kicks up in front of the telly.

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-2651094342088567842010-01-24T08:29:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:12:37.510+10:00

Three years of age, Elizabeth just loves looking through Mum's books. Perhaps another budding writer?

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-11690287482340600632010-01-17T09:20:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:13:50.893+10:00

It has been four weeks since my daughter’s therapy finished for ‘09’ and Elizabeth seems to be becoming ahead in leaps in bounds. She is much more relaxed and happy and is making much more eye contact which makes me want to completely reassess her therapy program for this year. Last year was quite disappointing. William Stillman once quoted that Autism is a billion dollar industry. I can see his

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-39304101324088567642009-12-16T08:20:00.006+10:002010-04-03T09:14:51.520+10:00

It is the time of year when we sit back and reflect on all the things we are thankful for. Whilst I often feel frustrated and discouraged about life in general there are many things I'm thankful for as well, including good health. Below are some of the things that top my list. First of all I’m thankful for my daughter for choosing me to be her Mum. Despite all the challenges I feel blessed to be

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-15905057489222182702009-12-13T09:39:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:15:33.827+10:00

 At the moment I’m reading ‘Empowered Autism Parenting’ by William Stillman. It is a very uplifting book and reinforces my own convictions about my daughter and her unique place in the world. I’ve read so many disheartening books on Autism of late that it was quite enlightening to read a positive one for a change (one book ‘Challenged Parents, Challenged Kids’ still makes me cringe). Stillman

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-285013748325213222009-12-12T12:05:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:16:39.104+10:00

These last few days I have been sitting down and devising a therapy plan for Elizabeth for next year. This year was rather disappointing. We had three different Speech Therapists and each one started off rearing to go but by the sixth week, when there was no obvious results, started getting the look of dejection about them. When the third therapist said, “we just don’t want to waste your money” I

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-26827872794695599412009-12-09T17:57:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:17:15.806+10:00

My daughter's Paediatrician rang this afternoon to speak about concerns raised by the Senior Therapist at the clinic Elizabeth attends. They both wish for Elizabeth to be tested for Rett's Syndrome, a complex neurobiological disorder of development in which an infant seems to grow and develop normally at first, but then stops developing and even loses skills and abilities with onset motor

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-77274158894688065822009-11-26T19:17:00.002+10:002010-04-03T09:18:58.287+10:00

Today at Elizabeth’s Speech and Occupational Therapy appointment the Senior Therapist at the centre was asked to sit in as they were at a lost of how to continue with Elizabeth. At first I thought because they were both young they were just seeking the opinion of a more experienced therapist. That is until the Senior Therapist asked whether she could speak with me in another room. She had the

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-38092413219007083282009-10-31T17:49:00.001+10:002010-04-03T09:19:31.189+10:00

This week was highlighted in red bold on my calender, it is the week that Elizabeth was to start a more intensive therapy program with her Speech and Occupational therapist and the first official appointment with the RDI (relationship development intervention) Consultant to begin a highly anticipated new therapy program. It was to be a busy but exciting week. It was not to be however. Over the

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-73159441113308290552009-10-17T17:21:00.004+10:002010-04-03T09:20:09.054+10:00

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

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-68155278279991456582009-09-07T18:54:00.007+10:002010-04-03T09:21:23.348+10:00

Despite the progress my daughter has made, let alone the countless appointments with therapists, I learned last Friday that Elizabeth is classed as being on the severe end of the spectrum and that she would mostly likely being attending the Special School full-time when she begins Prep (and here was me tossing up between two local Catholic Schools a few months ago). When I look at my daughter I

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-21070674245066076462009-08-27T07:51:00.006+10:002010-04-03T09:24:31.752+10:00

Yesterday I attended a MyTime playgroup at my daughters’ school. It is a government-sponsored playgroup for parents of children with special needs. A morning tea is provided for the parents (to be politically correct, although it is usually just mothers that turn up) whilst the kids are herded off to the playground. Each fortnight a new presenter takes the floor to discuss issues such as toilet

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-61335800500184658412009-06-03T08:04:00.004+10:002010-04-03T09:25:56.076+10:00

It has been five, very busy, weeks now since my daughter started Kindy at the special school. She seems to be settling in well despite the teacher being sick one week and the teacher's aide the next. While she is still reluctant to participate fully during arts and crafts time, she has a ball in the playground, having it over the older and bigger kids when it comes to the climbing gym, and she

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-26962800929177865142009-05-01T06:53:00.001+10:002010-04-03T09:27:22.249+10:00

When the Special School first told me that my daughter would be starting Kindy in the second term I began dreaming about all the things I would do with my spare time, but as we got closer and closer to the big day I started feeling quite anxious. Will anyone be there to assist her with lunch? Would they understand her quirky little ways of communicating? Would they be kind to her? When she had

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-15707082083384930602009-04-12T10:00:00.004+10:002010-04-03T09:28:17.230+10:00

It is another wonderfully drizzly Easter morning. My daughter is snuggled on the couch watching the Night Garden while I sit at my desk, cradling a cup of tea in my hands. I have opened the window wide, letting in the crisp morning air. I love these autumn mornings with the first delicious hint of winter in the air. Yesterday I had all the relatives over for my daughter’s third birthday, so I

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-90994703441320557442009-03-12T15:00:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:30:17.282+10:00

After cancelling last week’s speech therapy appointment due to illness, I was a little apprehensive about today’s session as Elizabeth was still quite grisly, which usually translated into teary tantrums. But I need not have worried. Kate, her Speech Therapist, along with Natalie, her Occupational Therapist, had set the room up with all sorts of interesting toys to try to get Elizabeth to engage

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-91592391274356651182009-03-09T10:42:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:31:03.998+10:00

I take my daughters hand into mine, her face flushed with fever she lies sprawled on the sofa watching the television through half-lidded eyes. I try everything to keep illnesses and infections at bay; a diet of good organic foods, exercise and sunlight. Yet despite every effort, you simply cannot prevent your child from getting sick. Hypersensitive, I must administer Panadol suppositories as

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-53184999531161947382009-02-25T08:33:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:31:39.362+10:00

“Geez, you must have a lot of patience.’’ This line was uttered to me twice within a space of twenty-four hours. The first time was after calmly sorting out Visa issues with a group of travellers who barely spoke a word of English between them, by an Australian businessman who was stuck in line behind the group. I sighed in weary resignation to the Businessman, giving him a ‘what can you do’

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-69158753742959223882009-02-20T23:02:00.002+10:002010-04-03T09:32:44.097+10:00

My life has been a chaotic mess of late which is only going to escalate with an impending job change (I finally got my rotation notice, six years overdue), so after another sleepless night and hot, muggy day I packed up my daughter and headed towards the local shopping centre to enjoy the cool air-conditioning and just unwind. Elizabeth fell asleep quite quickly so I was able to enjoy a Latte and

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-87612398110284089752009-02-14T14:08:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:34:02.189+10:00

After watching the news about the devastating fires down South and the terrible lose of life I began thinking how awful it must be knowing that your family was about to perish and not being able to do anything about it. Sensing my distress, Elizabeth cuddled into me on the lounge and stayed there until I had wiped the last tears away, giving me a kiss on the lips before going back to her toys.

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-41400026333178294262009-02-09T19:28:00.005+10:002010-04-03T09:34:50.646+10:00

After a disastrous day at the Special School last week I was a little nervous driving back there today, although I was somewhat buoyed by the successful session we had with Elizabeth’s Speech Therapist on Thursday, and the tear free day we had at the local Playgroup the day before. When we arrived the teacher was playing gentle classical music, which set a relaxing tone to the start of the

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-54678864584583347272009-02-05T16:48:00.004+10:002010-04-03T09:36:36.200+10:00

We had an appointment today with Elizabeth’s new Speech Therapist, Kate. As last week was more of a consultation, today was going to be the first one-on-one session and the test to see how well Elizabeth responded to Kate. When we went into the therapy room Kate had already set up a PECS board (Picture Exchange and Communication System) with a card for bubbles and a card for a wooden toy with

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-64389315833502011192009-02-04T17:37:00.006+10:002010-04-03T09:37:29.530+10:00

After a very upsetting day at the playgroup at the special school in which the too loud music was just too much for Elizabeth’s sensitive ears, I decided to take her to the playgroup at the local church. I use to take Elizabeth there up until her diagnoses at age two. I don’t know why I stopped going, perhaps everything else just got in the way. But I remembered the lovely, elderly lady who took

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36563847.post-29834211030318371472009-01-31T15:55:00.003+10:002010-04-03T09:39:40.649+10:00

I had my daughter’s first Speech Therapy appointment for the year this week. I was a little apprehensive as the Therapist was new, and after last year I had my doubts. Any reservations I had, however, began to dissipate the moment I meet Kate. Whilst young, she was also enthusiastic and had not yet been jaded by the whole public health system like our previous therapist had been (which as a

S R Gurtnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14442172875915392842noreply@blogger.com1