Showing posts with label ADHD Medication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ADHD Medication. Show all posts

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Sue Scheff: ADHD School Help: Working with the Teacher



A realistic game plan so parents can set up school help -- special services and ADHD classroom accommodations to help children with ADD and learning disabilities succeed.


From extra time on tests or a seat near the blackboard to a full-time aide, children with attention deficit disorder (ADD ADHD) are legally entitled to school help, with ADHD accommodations in the classroom. But even though students should receive academic accommodations, there’s no assurance that he or she will actually get them. This is especially true in our time of under-funded schools and overworked teachers.

What does it take to get your child the accommodations he or she needs? “You need to have an understanding of your child’s ADHD, and how it affects him,” says Robert Tudisco, of White Plains, New York, a lawyer who frequently advocates for special-needs children. “And you need to know exactly what you want the school to do to help.”

In addition, says Tudisco (who, like many of his clients, has ADHD), parents must know how to ask for these accommodations — and, when necessary, how to push for them without seeming pushy.

It’s essential to view teachers and school administrators as allies, rather than adversaries — and to mind your manners. If you come across as rude or impatient, says Tudisco, school officials may be slow to provide the accommodations you request — if they grant them at all. In some cases, officials withhold accommodations to “punish” parents they deem “difficult.”

“Administrators and teachers often tell me, ‘You should have heard the way that mother spoke to me,’” says Tudisco. “Or, they’ll say, ‘That father slammed his fist on the desk and walked out of the meeting!’ When getting kids with ADHD the services they need in school, 85 percent of what goes into it is diplomacy, pure and simple.”

Kristin Hill Callejas, a first-grade teacher in Shelley, Idaho, has had her share of run-ins with parents. She recalls one mother’s demands for special help for her son, who had experienced academic difficulties in kindergarten. “She stormed into the classroom, spewing fire from her nostrils and muttering things under her breath,” says Callejas. “Only after she calmed down, and we got to a level of mutual respect and civility, were we able to work together to come up with some effective strategies.”
Starting the conversation

If your child needs only minor accommodations -- a bit more time to complete tests, for example, or a sticker chart as an incentive to behave better in class -- you may be able to line them up simply by speaking with the teacher. Often, the best approach is to contact the school to schedule a meeting just before the school year begins.

During your initial conversation with the teacher, give her your phone number and e-mail address. Let her know that you are always available to talk about your child and the challenges he or she faces. Also, find out how much the teacher knows about ADHD. “It’s perfectly reasonable to ask, ‘Have you worked with students with ADHD before?’” says Callejas. “That can start a discussion about what strategies the teacher has used before and what might work best with your child, and give you a sense of whether the teacher is flexible and open to suggestions.”

No matter how the teacher treats you, treat her with courtesy and respect. Making accusations or being needlessly confrontational is likely to backfire. “Don’t go in with guns blazing, ready to attack,” says Callejas. “When you expect the worst, you set a negative tone from the beginning.”

Friday, July 17, 2009

Sue Scheff: ADHD and a Bad Reaction

Source: ADDitude Magazine

People with ADHD tend to run with negative thoughts and emotions. When I don't notice the present—and fixate on the past—there is a sense of desperation, and no one to share it with.

The vicious cycle continues. Ever since I've been taking Adderall for my adult attention deficit disorder, I've felt focused, and yet sadder and angry. There is an edge that is sharpened by this medication, and I'm not sure that I like it. I wonder if it is childhood trauma, a personality disorder, or the ADHD medication. There are extreme ups and downs, and little control over either.

The new guy's name is Mr. Put Together, clean, organized, on the heavy side, smart, and attentive. He has many friends (many of them female), is very social, and has given me the keys to his apartment. And yet I am hung up on the Chef, who has clearly told me that we're not dating. There is no interest, he's bored. I wonder if that is how I will be too. After the chase what else is there? I too will be bored.

Recently, the father, Mr. Put Together, and I met at a fund-raising benefits event that I helped put together. It was truly a New York moment. The event was held in an expansive loft with a grand terrace, and one of the finest views of Columbus Circle and Central Park.

The caterers served white sangria and all-you-could-drink red and white wine. We sat on the terrace, the sky above gray, the wind kicking up a notch, and talked. Mr. Put Together loves to talk. He's very ambitious and has grand plans—life after his government career includes a best-selling novel. And yet I felt extremely subdued. I wanted no part of the party and the conversation, I was not happy.

Later, when we had drinks at a restaurant not far from the event, I was equally as blue. In desperation I called up the Chef, who brusquely asked me what I wanted. I lied and said I had a crisis. There was a mouse under the sink. "Can I come over, I'll sleep on the couch," I said.
There was a long pause, and he said, "OK, but I have to get up at 4 a.m." I felt like a swimmer lost at sea who had stumbled upon an island at last. I did not want sex, I did not want a boyfriend, and I did not want to go back to the room in the sketchy neighborhood.

I wanted an oasis and a place to exhale. That much the Chef gave me. He buzzed me in and threw me a pillow and sheet. "Do what you want, Jane," he said. "I'm going to sleep."

I thought back to the night. Mr. Put Together had observed that I seemed stressed and jittery. I said that I'm really an introvert and I just need a bit of down time, time to work out and swim. There is truth in that, but at the same time I don't know what is going wrong, why the sadness and feeling of hopelessness. There is much that is wrong and much that is right, too. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is when we don't notice the present, and I fear that once again I am fixated on the past, on beating a dead horse. I wish that I were more carefree, more focused, that I lived up to my potential.

Will I tell Mr. Put Together about the meds, and what might be his reaction to them? Perhaps at some point, but right now it's too early. The result would be like aborting a flight that had not even taken off yet.
by Jane D.