Safe

Nick was able to spend a few days with our family. As you can imagine, it's been a wonderful visit, and we are all sad that he has to leave in a few short hours.

Nights are not comfortable here. Ian experiences stimuli you and I cannot even imagine, and the evening hours are usually restless ones. He needs constant noise when he's in his bedroom, and he has a minimum of 3 lights on once darkness finds its way into his room. After bedtime is declared, he's up and down the stairs constantly, and he never gets many hours of deep sleep. This results in (as I'm sure you can imagine) a decreased attention span, irritability, and a short temper, and he usually has dark circles under his eyes because he's exhausted. It's frustrating for him and for us, and we struggle constantly with different approaches toward helping him achieve some sort of restful sleep.

Not surprisingly, when Nick is here, Ian sleeps. Nick makes himself comfortable in Ian's bed, and there have been times I've gone into a room devoid of lights and noise to find him stretched out on top of Ian, a great big doggy smile on his face. When Nick is here, Ian never moves when I open his bedroom door, and amazingly I find that I am able to stand in this doorway and watch as his eyelids dance with whatever dreams he's having. I haven't been able to do that since he was a small child, because whenever I'd try to step foot into his room, he'd jump up in a panic and look around wildly. For years I have not been able to watch him sleep and wonder what he was dreaming about, and I had all but forgotten how peaceful he looks when his defenses are down and he feels safe.

Safe. Now, there's a word that we don't use lightly around here. Safe to us means something different than it might to you, because for us, safe means that Ian is having a good day, he's in control, or he's positively adjusting to changes in his treatment regime. Safe implies that our day has gone by without a hospital visit, outburst, or a major disruption to our life. We don't use that word often for fear we might jinx ourselves, but in all honesty, it's one of my favorite words. Ironically, today Ian used the word safe to describe his feelings about Nick, and it made my mommy heart almost weep when he said it. Knowing my son feels safe is so very important to me, because I know that most of the time he's living inside a turbulent world where not a whole heck of a lot makes sense to him.

We were able to bring Nick to Ian's therapy appointment today, and his occupational therapist commented on how his whole demeanor was different. She was absolutely right too, because for the past 3 days, Ian has been relaxed and content. He's slept. He's laughed. He's played with his sister without getting frustrated and losing control. He's been able to be in public without getting overwhelmed. He has experienced life the way I have hoped and prayed he would, and as I write this, all I can think is how amazing this dog is. When I first contacted Kids and Canines to ask for more information, I never ever thought I would be getting the answer we needed to help my son live life rather than just exist in it. I had hoped, of course, but I am still in shock. Every time I see Nick in action, I am moved to tears that this sweet soul has entered our lives, and I am forever grateful for everyone who has helped put him here.

Love,
Our Family