Early Advocacy Made the Difference

By Sheri Larsen

As the mother of three young children, I figured I’d seen it all from ADHD, tonsillitis, surgeries, colds, and runny noses. I was wrong.

CJ was born on a crisp November day in 2003, two weeks earlier than expected, and with a true knot in his umbilical cord. He should not have survived.

Feeling tremendously blessed, we took CJ home and, for the next six months, went about the busy life of raising four children. The latter half of his first year was spent with picture books in his hands and puzzle pieces scattered on the floor. He was fanatical about pictures. So much so, that by twelve-months old he had mastered 60-piece puzzles with no aid at all, pointing out objects in the pictures. He figured out how to communicate his wants and needs. I used to joke, calling it our private language. He excelled in every area of growth, except for the normal sounds babies make.

His first birthday came and went, but did not take with it his inability to make sounds other than the grunts and groans we’d grown accustom to. With no improvement in articulating formidable sounds over the next months, I spoke to our pediatrician about my concerns. She set up an appointment for CJ, who was 22 months old at the time, to be evaluated by a speech therapist. Her trust in me as a parent would never be forgotten.

CJ was officially diagnosed with Apraxia of Speech.

Hearing CJ’s diagnosis being described as a neurological disorder could have crippled me. Instead, I collected research and questioned his two therapists on ways I could help him at home in addition to his therapy regiment. I searched magazines, the internet, and any other source to find pictures of everything under the sun. Shrinking the images and laminating them into a deck of cards made it easy to take to any ice rink or field my older kids were playing at. We would use car rides as therapy by flipping pictures to CJ and encouraging him to form the sounds. My older children helped, too. Slowly we saw improvement.

As a family, we dedicated ourselves to learning sign language and used amazing DVDs to do so. Once CJ was given his “Picture” book, he could hand us little images of his wants and needs. It was then that I finally understood what he had been telling me all along.

CJ had lots to say. He only needed help finding his voice.

My greatest joy was the first time I heard him say, “Mama.”

The next three years were spent in therapy, where CJ and his therapists developed a fond relationship, one that would unexpectedly follow him into elementary school. There, he entered special services for speech therapy. His original therapist took a job at the school and could keep an eye on CJ, one of her star little guys. We were so blessed.

But soon, it was evident that CJ had met and even surpassed the official state benchmarks to receive services any longer. It was then that an image of a chubby 22-month-old sitting at a lone table in his therapy room and swooning over the mini M&Ms, which had become his expected reward during speech, wafted across my mind. I knew how hard he had worked. I had educated myself enough about Apraxia to know that it could continue to affect him as his vocabulary and the demands on his system increased, especially around third and sixth grades. I could not let his hard work go to waste.

Through my advocacy, CJ was allowed to remain in speech therapy for the remainder of kindergarten, first grade, and the beginning of second grade. He is still in the second grade and was recently discharged from the program; however, I asked for a written agreement, stating that CJ will be allowed back into the program, with ease, if his speech skills backslide when entering third grade. Given that his original therapist is at the school, I am confident she, as his advocate, will insure CJ’s continued care.

The most important message I have through CJ’s story is parental advocacy. There is nothing wrong with standing up for your child’s well-being, as long as it is delivered in a positive manner. Parents can be their child’s voice, until he or she finds their own.

Every child deserves a voice.

More about Sheri Larsen



Sheri Larsen is a published freelance and short story writer, and KidLit author. Her current YA novel is with literary agents, and she’s preparing to sub one of her picture books to agents. Her website, Writers’ Ally (http://writersally.blogspot.com), is where she explores writing, children’s literature, and motherhood. She lives in Maine with her husband and four children.

Triathlete Luke Farrell Takes on World and Speech Dyspraxia

Written by: Roy Elmer, Luke’s Grandfather

Please Note: Terminology used throughout this story, such as Speech Dyspraxia, is the same as Childhood Apraxia of Speech.

Triathlete, Luke Farrell, has had Speech Dyspraxia, SLI 5-6, since birth. Now 18, Luke is in his final year of school at Immanuel Lutheran College at Buderim on the Sunshine Coast. He also just received advice of another selection in the Australian team to compete at the World Junior Championships in Beijing, China in September 2011. He is widely regarded as an outstanding young man and a rising talent in the junior elite level Triathlon in Australia and internationally.

LUKE’S EARLY LIFE—A ROUGH RIDE.
At the age of four years, while living in Brisbane, Australia, Luke had not begun to speak and was diagnosed by a government department psychologist as having autism spectrum disorder. At this departmental officer’s direction, he was transferred from his local kindergarten to a “special” preschool, attended by children with serious disabilities. Luke was surrounded by youngsters with serious developmental and behavioral problems and had some disturbing experiences. These experiences created great angst for his parents regarding the short and long term effects. His parents made several approaches to the Education Department to sanction withdrawal or transfer, but nothing was achieved.

Once Luke reached primary school age, he was sent to a “special education unit” at the Mt. Gravatt East primary school in Brisbane. This brought new challenges for Luke, struggling to separate the teacher’s voice from other sounds in his surrounding environment and unable to comprehend the lessons. In attempt to cover this, he began to imitate other student’s reactions and behaviors, only to mask further the true nature of his problem. As time progressed, his family became aware that the only appropriate intervention he was receiving was one half hour every fortnight of speech therapy. His tuition time was shared with six other students and other lessons/services provided to Luke were of no benefit. His parents saw him being prepared solely for a life of limited expectations as a disabled person.

A GLIMMER OF LIGHT.
Luke’s first signs of an improved prognosis appeared only after he had the good fortune of being referred to Jane Remington-Gurney for speech therapy. Jane runs a company called “Options” Communication and Speech Therapy, operating at the cutting edge of the science of her profession. Upon the first meeting and subsequent consultation processes with Luke, Jane diagnosed Luke's condition as Verbal Dyspraxia, a disability presented as a speech language impairment, SLI 5-6, and a hearing and comprehension difficulty. Following Jane's diagnosis, Luke was referred to Dr. Ross, a specialist in Autism disorder and president of the Autism Association in Australia. At this consultation, Dr. Ross agreed with Jane’s diagnosis in which Autism was eliminated and Verbal Dyspraxia, SLI 5-6, was confirmed.

PATHWAY FORWARD.
Luke's parents were determined to give him, for the rest of his school life, the opportunity to keep in touch with his own peer group by finding and establishing his own level in his future. Their hopes were pinned on the private school sector, combined with continual monitoring and guidance from his speech therapist, Jane. The next step was to find a private school willing and able to accept the challenge of providing Luke a place in one of their classrooms as well as a meaningful education. Finding it proved to be very difficult as their search extended beyond Brisbane. It was not resolved until the principal at Immanuel Lutheran College, Buderim, called a meeting of the staff members who would be involved in delivering Luke’s education program. They accepted the challenge and for the first time Luke enrolled at Grade 3 to a normal classroom. The very next day the family relocated to the Sunshine Coast. This was an enormous dislocation for Luke’s parents who were faced with many challenges, including selling the family home and managing their Brisbane based business from 100 kilometers away.

Although it was understood that given the delayed start to education proper, Luke would have significant hurdles to overcome to graduate from high school. Guidelines were put in place to ensure minimum targets were achieved for Luke to have the ability to interact with other members of mainstream society, to have a positive self-image, and sufficient life skills to make his way in life. Happily, this target has been surpassed with already several bonus outcomes. Luke’s easy going nature attracted friendships essential to peer group acceptance. His shy but honest modesty following his successes with his sporting endeavors reflected credit on his school and firmed up his friendships, all of which are fertile ground for the formation of a healthy self-image and self-esteem.

SPORT—THE KEY TOWARDS NORMAL LIFE.
The role that Luke’s participation in sport has played in his progress towards a normal lifestyle is impossible to ignore. At the age of thirteen, after watching a televised triathlon event, Luke announced he was going to become a triathlete. Although he had never owned a bike or displayed any particular talent for running, he did not regard this as an obstacle. His parent’s only reaction was by providing encouragement, support and opportunity. That year, Luke entered the Mooloolaba Triathlon in the "come and try" series. This proved to be the most enjoyable experience in which he competed successfully. In the next four years, Luke’s progress displayed a rise through district, regional, and Queensland representative levels as he participated in state teams that won the Australian team’s championship, and then the honor of representing Australia in a triathlon. Luke appeared to make a quick and smooth transition from a “nobody” to “a big time somebody.” Nothing could be further from the truth.

In late 2008, Luke, who was only 15-years-old at the time, was producing impressive performances in the Gatorade age group events held in Queensland. As a result, he was contacted by the Triathlon Australia and with only one week’s notice to the first event, he was advised to compete in the South Australian, West Australian and ACT Triathlon State, under 19 age group, Sprint Championships. These races formed part of the selection trials for the Australian team to compete in the World Triathlon Sprint, under 19 age group, Championship. Luke finished first in Gleneg, South Australia; and second in both Rockingham, West Australia and Canberra. ACT. After returning home, Luke competed in the remaining events, winning the “Gatorade” series in his age group in Queensland, across six triathlons at different venues. These performances had been the reason for his gaining selection in the Australian team for his first time.

Following his results in special trials, he received advice from the Queensland Academy of Sport that he was an automatic selection in the Triathlon Queensland Junior Emerging Triathlon Squad (JETS). Shortly after, he also received advice from Triathlon Australia of his selection for their 2XU National Junior Development Camp. He was advised that his selection was based on his “Commitment, Attitude and Performance” and importantly, his “potential to become an elite athlete.” He would receive this invitation again in 2011.

In 2009, 16-year-old Luke was one of the youngest triathletes selected to represent Australia at his first ever World Junior, under 19 age group, Sprint Triathlon Championships on the Gold Coast. He finished in eleventh position in a field of 57, under 19 age group, competitors from around the world. After outstanding performances in 2010 state and national competitions and selection trials, he again achieved selection in the Australian Team for the 2010 World Junior Spring, under 19 age group, Triathlon Championships held in Budapest, Hungary. The domestic season finished in mid-March so Luke had only six months of training with no competition until the race itself in September. Despite these conditions, Luke finished in fourth place.

After resuming from his rest period after Budapest in late 2010, Luke competed and finished seventh place in his first elite Open Men’s triathlon event, the Queensland Triathlon Gatorade No. 1 race. From there he went on to achieve his third consecutive win, blitzing the field by a full two minutes, in the Queensland Triathlon “All Schools” 2010 championships. In 2011, he finished in second place at the Open Men’s event for the Gatorade No. 2 race at Robina on the Gold Coast, followed by a win in the Gatorade Bribie Island Junior, under 17 age group, Triathlon. Both proved to be just a warm-up for the Triathlon Australia, under 19 age group, championship held at Canberra in which he discovered his racing bike had a crack in its frame just before leaving. He still managed to finish second place at the 2011 Australian Championship event on a borrowed bike.

Over the next few months, Luke learned about the impact of illness on training and competition performance. He suffered a series of health challenges, including an ear infection, a virus and ultimately bronchial pneumonia, losing 5kg of body weight. Luke’s training load and competition schedule were reduced and he displayed great courage in persevering, especially with team events. Although the past few months have been a little quieter as a result of his ill-health, the exciting news is Luke’s selection again for the 2011 World Junior, under 19 age group, Triathlon Sprint Championship to be held in Beijing, China.

Luke’s support group is happy with his progress, despite the setback caused by his untimely illness. He is considered to be on track with his goal of life as a professional triathlete. After returning from a necessary rest period ordered by his coach, Luke entered the Hervey Bay “Olympic Distance” Triathlon to record a base time to qualify for future major events; Luke finished in fifth place in this Open Men’s competition. While there, Luke found himself competing against one of his idols, Courtney Atkinson. They talked after the event and instantly became friends. Today, their friendship continues by keeping in touch through Facebook. It is Luke’s sporting achievements that have opened doors to conversations like this, which were never dreamed of in those difficult early years.

TIME TO MAKE A DECISION ON A FUTURE LIFE.
After Luke finishes school in late October 2011, he will begin life as a semi-professional triathlete until he achieves his license as a professional. He will then be nearing the end of his third year of a four-year Operational and Strategic plan, put together by his family support group who were drawn together by Luke’s determination to succeed. He also aims to be a professional coach of these skills later in life, a remarkable ambition for a lad with Verbal Dyspraxia. Luke’s story reveals great strength of character, dedication and determination to succeed. His diagnosed medical condition is incurable, however Luke has used his sporting experience and successes to throw off its shackles and earn the admiration and respect of his peer group, both at school, in sport, and in the broader community. He has not cured himself of his condition, but has learned to “live with it.”

His appointment as captain of the Sunshine Coast Secondary schools regional team in 2011 indicates the respect he has earned from the regional team’s management. The team members and other competitors accept him into the peer group unconditionally and as a teenager living with Verbal Dyspraxia, Luke is immensely proud of his achievement in making his first public speech on accepting the trophy on behalf of his team.

In his short eighteen years to date, Luke Farrell has trodden over more obstacles, overcome more fears and moved further beyond his comfort zone than many people are asked to do in a lifetime. The simple act of mixing with his peers and fellow athletes who enjoy fluent communication skills has tapped his reserves of intestinal fortitude, and his peers’ lives have in turn been enriched as they have come to grips with communicating with Luke. Luke hopes his story, which basically comes down to accepting his situation, learning to cope with it as best he can, looking to his strengths, and getting on with life, will offer hope and support to individuals, parents or families facing similar challenges.

For more information go to Luke’s Website: http://www.lukefarrell.com.au/

E-mail: roy@lukefarrell.com.au

Truth or Misleading? “Children with Apraxia of Speech Make Very Slow Progress”

The Childhood Apraxia of Speech Association of North America (CASANA), along with members of its Professional Advisory Board, has engaged in discussion about the misleading impression that children with apraxia of speech make very slow progress in speech therapy. Some children are diagnosed with Childhood Apraxia of Speech (CAS) by speech-language pathologists who are using “slow progress” as the differential characteristic of the disorder. Is it true that children with CAS make very slow progress in therapy? Here is what we think:

• Children with apraxia of speech often make slower progress than children with other types of speech sound disorders. (Note: slower than other types of disorders; not slow in and of itself)
• Children suspected to have CAS but who make very rapid progress in speech therapy that generalizes easily to new contexts, both in and outside of the therapy room, most likely have a phonological disorder and NOT CAS..
• With appropriate goals, informed by detailed assessment – AND – appropriate, well executed speech therapy that incorporates principles of motor learning, children with apraxia of speech can be expected to make good, steady progress in therapy, especially those with age appropriate or near age appropriate cognitive and language skills.
• Both parents and SLPs should not blindly accept that, “progress will be or is slow because the child has apraxia.”

Discussion:

Speech progress may be very slow, even with appropriate planning and therapy, when other co-existing problems add to the challenges, including delayed cognition and/or receptive language, poor attention or behavior, and other significant speech diagnoses such as dysarthria. Additionally, children with CAS who are in poor health and not able to take full advantage of the learning and practice opportunities available to them, may demonstrate very slow progress in speech production skills.

With appropriate goals and intervention, parents of children with apraxia as the primary diagnosis should expect progress in their child’s use of intelligible words within a three-month period. (Children with apraxia plus other complex challenges likely will have more limited progress.)  If this progress does not occur for a child whose primary diagnosis is CAS, an SLP should consider the following questions:

• Is the diagnosis correct?
• Are the goals and stimuli appropriate?
• Are there additional diagnoses that should be considered, in addition to CAS?
• If there are other diagnoses, is one of them really the bigger challenge to the child’s speech production skills?
• Is the intensity of speech practice, both in therapy and at home, sufficient?
• Is the frequency of direct speech intervention sufficient?

Remember that although speech progress can be slower for children with apraxia than it is for children with other speech problems, there should be noticeable and ongoing progress in the child’s ability to independently produce intelligible words. While their words may not be “perfect”, one can observe increased movement toward intelligibility. Parents will want to be in contact with their SLP to discuss expectations and what modifications the SLP will make if progress is not being made.

Every Child Deserves A Voice

by Megan Steinke (originally on Hippymom.com; posted with permission of the author)

Childhood Apraxia of Speech is a motor speech disorder, a neurological disorder where the child cannot plan and coordinate speech movements. Ever have that feeling of a word on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite say it? Or slip over a word you knew and could say in your head? Imagine every word you ever tried to say coming out like that – even though you know what they should sound like, the sounds never quite make it from your brain to your mouth the way you want to say them.

CAS isn’t a very well-understood disorder. It’s also not a very common one, which is why resources on it for parents are pretty scarce. If your child is autistic or ADHD, dyslexic, any of the “common” special needs, you will find a wealth of information. If your child is apraxic, you might think he’s ceased to exist in the literary sphere. There are papers written by speech therapy professionals for speech therapy professionals, but to a layman they’re difficult to understand. Even books devoted to speech disorders don’t really cover it. If it weren’t for the Apraxia Kids Network website, I would have feared I was the only one. The website has been a lifesaver, both in terms of scholarly articles as resources, and as relief from the feeling of isolation that this diagnosis can bring.

Getting a diagnosis of CAS is very scary, but my children had been in speech therapy for two and a half years by the time we got it, and though I was terrified for their future, it was at least preferable to not knowing why they weren’t talking. We had been to countless speech therapists, and finally got in to see the pediatric developmental neurologist, who immediately diagnosed both boys as nearly identical cases of apraxia. He thought they were quite textbook and was surprised no one had diagnosed them before. He was fascinated by how alike their apraxia is. Since the causes of CAS are unknown, a set of identical twins with identical apraxia seems to make speech pathologists’ research senses tingle.

It’s a long and arduous process of speech therapies to bring language out of children with apraxia, and it’s emotionally exhausting for the parents. Support groups are invaluable. It’s a relatively rare disorder, however, so the only support you get may be online. There is a local CAS network in my area – in a group of seven cities with a population in the millions, home to the largest naval base in the world, there are nine children diagnosed with CAS. Two of them are mine. It is very isolating to deal with that kind of number.

I am continually having to explain apraxia to people, because it is so unusual and so unknown – even to their teachers. I spend a lot of time fighting for them, to get them the help they need. The cost of speech therapy for two children in the amount needed for CAS would bankrupt us if we went through a private firm, or worse, through the local children’s hospital. When we saw that the cost would be nearly $600 a week per child (and would go up if insurance decided to stop covering it), we knew we had to find other means to get what we needed. The local university has been invaluable to us, as they have a speech therapy program and need clinical patients for their students. My boys have received excellent therapy there, from some truly wonderful young women who put their whole hearts into my children’s care.

“Will my child ever speak normally?”

I stopped filling in my boys’ baby books as they got older and older and that “first word” slot was staring me in the face. One year old. Two years. Three. I wanted to write something down, anything. But their only noise was a monotone “mmmmm”. I wanted that word. I wanted it very badly. My children were three years old before they called me “Ma” for the first time, and for a very long time that was their only word, and I hugged it close to my heart every time they said it. On their fourth birthday, they had three words: Ma, Da, and buh (brother). They were four and a half when they told me – in words, not sign language – that they loved me.

When they were younger, we would watch the Signing Time DVDs, because the handful of signs that they had learned in speech therapy were their only means of communicating. I would listen to the song at the end – “Show Me A Sign” – and cry because the lyrics that Rachel de Azavedo wrote so touched me. They were exactly what I wanted to know from my children, exactly how I felt. I didn’t feel like I knew them sometimes. I just wanted to know that they were in there. They seemed so distant sometimes, though they were always affectionate, and no one ever saw signs of autism in them, something I feared. I always felt uncertain that I knew anything about who they were.

Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you’re thinking of me
Tell me all about the things you’re thinking
Tell me that you’re happy and you love it when we’re laughing
Tell me more, show me a sign.

I know I’m not alone in that feeling. An SLP presenting at the 2004 Apraxia-KIDS conference wrote a poem of sorts to describe it that is broadly similar, particularly emotionally, to the song. And I know the CAS children feel it too.

While visiting a friend recently who has girl twins a year younger than my boys, they played with the girls’ dolls. Dominic put a baby doll in a stroller, wheeled it up to his brother, and said, “I be the mama, you be the doctor, and this is my baby.” Chris agreed, so Dom in his high-pitched ‘mama’ voice said, “Doctor, something wrong with my baby, he don’t talk. Why don’t my baby talk?” It was absolutely heartbreaking, and I still cry to recount it.

It’s been very hard on us over the past four years since we first began to realize that – as Dominic so succinctly put it – something was wrong with my babies, but we are finally starting to see improvement in huge leaps and bounds. They’ve come from a handful of single-word utterances to long and complex sentences with a vocabulary nearly on par for their age level in only a year, though they still have a lot of articulation errors and strangers find them difficult or impossible to understand. I’m at about 60% understanding what they say. It’s a wonderful thing to hear my children talking to each other, or to have one run past and say “I love you so much, Mama!” I had worried I would never hear it. I hope someday I’ll hear it without distortion.

Small Seeds Watered with Tears

[Written and delivered at the 2009 Pittsburgh Walk for Children with Apraxia of Speech]

by Sue Freiburger

When I look at Sean, it is hard to believe how far we have come in the past six years. He has grown in so many ways and achieved so much more than we had ever hoped for.

I want to share our story with the parents here with young children with apraxia. Sean’s apraxia was so severe that after a year of speech therapy thru early intervention, the only sound we had was “eh”. We discovered CASANA when Sean was around two and a half years old and began really aggressively pursuing intensive specialized therapy. We came to Pittsburgh to have Dave Hammer evaluate Sean and confirm the diagnosis of apraxia. My expectation was that we would leave with a treatment plan and a new direction. I was very hopeful that this would be our turning point.

After a two day evaluation, Dave sat down with us to review his results. The results were not good. Dave said that he was unable to stimulate any speech production from Sean and that at best, he could confirm a suspected severe case of childhood apraxia of speech, with a suspected underlying genetic condition. His prognosis of Sean every becoming a verbal communicator was poor. I held back my tears as I felt my world collapse beneath me. If an expert like Dave didn’t think that Sean was likely to ever be able to talk, where would we go from here?

As we got into out car, the tears started to flow. I knew that I had to pull myself together before we got back to the hotel room where my mom waited with our other two children. Eric had spotted a garden center across from the speech therapy center and thought that could be a diversion for both me and my mother. He suggested I pick out a special plant for her to thank her for coming to Pittsburgh and helping us out during Sean’s evaluation. I was drawn to a small lily plant that was very fragrant. I could explain my red eyes away by saying the flowers had aggravated my allergies...

My mother took the plant home to NY and planted it in a special spot in her front garden. We took Sean back to VA and began our search for a speech therapist who could offer us the intensive specialized therapy that Sean needed. We also began to investigate augmentive communication devices.

It was a long year, with many visits to specialists, long battles with the school system, and about nine hours of private therapies a week, but the following summer, Sean was successfully communicating using his Dynavox Augmentive Communicative Device. That June got a call from my mother telling me that the “Mr. Hammer” lily was in full bloom and it was spectacular.

Due my husband’s job transfer, we ended up moving to Pittsburgh that summer. Unfortunately, there was a long waiting list to get into speech therapy with Dave Hammer, but we kept plugging away. Sean slowly began to find his voice, starting with "Polamalu" when he was around four and half years old and is now quite the talker (and still a huge Steelers fan!)! After almost a year, Sean was able to start therapy with Dave Hammer and Dave couldn’t believe that this was the same little boy he had evaluated almost two years ago. We worked together as a team with Mr. Hammer and Sean continued to thrive. The “Mr. Hammer” lily is around eight feet tall and continues to remind us how far we have come from the day when we felt that all hope was gone.

Over the years, I have spent many hours in my garden, using it as my therapy to work out my frustrations with the long slow process of helping Sean to find his voice. Many of my plants have been watered with tears, but each year, they come back stronger and bigger than ever. Dave Hammer sometimes wonders if he should have given us such a grim prognosis at the evaluation, but we both know that it was a fair evaluation. Without his honest assessment, we never would have know just how hard we would have to work to help Sean find his voice. We would have accepted the school systems assessment that a three year old couldn’t use a high-tech augmentative communication device. We would have waited and waited for the words to come. The path we had to take was a difficult one, the work was hard, but Dave has given us a gift that we can never repay. Sean now has a voice and I have an enormous garden! We dug up a piece of that “Mr. Hammer” lily and split it – a piece of it to grow in my garden and a piece for Mr. Hammer to plant in his yard.

I collected seeds from the flowers in my garden to share with the other parents today. Scatter these in your garden to remind you that from small seeds, beautiful and wonderful things can grow. Let your tears flow on the days when things are tough, but hold on to hope.

Will "Autistic" Like Symptoms Go Away Once A Child's Speech Improves?

Response from Dr. Kathy Jakielski:
"Autism and Childhood Apraxia of Speech are different disorders, although some children may have both. For this question it would be so dependent on which "autistic-like symptoms" are present. For example, if a child clearly wants/enjoys interpersonal interaction but is reticent to interact because of a lack of success getting others to understand due to a speech motor disorder like CAS, that is one thing. In that instance, it is likely that they will interact more successfully and willingly as intelligibility improves. However, if a child actually does have autism or significant "autistic-like symptoms" and apraxia, then EACH part of the child's diagnosis truly needs worked on it and of itself. There is no guarantee that symptoms of autism will be eliminated solely with improved speech intelligibility. It is likely therapy will also involve more than speech therapy and work on things such as social relatedness, language, sensory defensiveness, possibly behavior, etc."

Diagnosis Brings Relief, And Yet So Many Questions About The Future

[by Karen Buescher, an essay for CASANA's Parent Scholarship Application for the 2009 National Conference on Childhood Apraxia of Speech]

Zack is 3 years old and was just recently diagnosed with mild oral apraxia and moderate CAS. Zack was born healthy with no complications at birth. All developmental milestones were met at the appropriate age except for speech and language. Zack was always a quiet baby and would easily entertain himself with play. At 15 months of age, he said his first word, "duck". However, he only said that for a few months and still to this day cannot say "duck". I did not realize that he was not developing speech like he should. See, not only am I Zack's mom, but I am also a speech therapist. One thing that I have learned from Zack having speech delay is that it is sure hard to separate being a mom and being a speech therapist. Don't get me wrong, knowledge is good; however, that knowledge can lead you to over diagnose your child so many times.

As I stated earlier, I am a speech therapist; a speech therapist who has limited knowledge about CAS. Many people take for granted that since I am a speech therapist, I should have known what to do to make my own son talk better. In response, I try to compare speech therapists to a doctor that specializes in one certain area. For example, if you are having chest pains, your family doctor may refer to a cardiologist. In the same token, if your child has apraxia of speech, you look for a speech therapist who has knowledge about apraxia of speech. Zack's dad, my husband has less knowledge than me. I try my best to explain speech terms to him but he has the look of deer in the headlights. The fact that we have little knowledge is going to change since we will be advocating for and assisting Zack to receive the services that he needs to improve his speech.

Zack is affected by CAS by not having his speech understood and he gives up easily. I am sure that Zack would love to speak to anyone and have his message understood without having to repeat himself numerous times. Zack becomes frustrated with talking and many times will stop trying to convey his thought or message. Fortunately for Zack, I can usually understand what he is trying to say. However, I cannot always be with him so I have to give Zack credit because he has learned other ways to communicate. He will use gestures or take you to what he is talking about. Also recently I have noticed that Zack is saying, "I can't do that." Of course he says it as "I ant U dat." This response is given frequently when we are practicing sounds or words. It absolutely breaks my heart to hear my little boy give up so easily. The one positive that I keep holding onto is that Zack has a great personality that makes him so fun to be around. I am hopeful that his personality will help others overlook his speech problems.

Zack has not only figured out how to get his message across, but also has figured out that if he plays alone, he will not have to talk to others. Many times when around other children, Zack will go and play by himself. Again, it breaks my heart to see my little boy playing by himself when other children are around. Hopefully, with time, his speech will improve and so will his desire to play with others.

As for the affect for us, his parents, we are relieved to have a diagnosis. Yes, it was hard at first to accept the diagnosis of CAS. one of the many hopes and dreams that all parents have for their children is to experience healthy, normal development. Then when we realized that our child was not developing speech sounds and talking like he should, we thought finding a diagnosis would explain why. Well, the diagnosis did help explain why; however, now we have many more questions and concerns. Many of these questions are about his future since he will be starting preschool in the fall. Will the other kids understand him? Will he be made fun of because he does not talk like the other children? Will he lose his happy go lucky personality that makes him so much fun to be around? So many unanswered questions that only time will answer.

As human beings, we take so many things for granted. The one thing that we will never take for granted is being able to have a conversation with Zack. We look forward to the day when we can sit down as a family and talk about our day. Currently, we can ask Zack about his day by asking him simple yes/no questions so that he does not get frustrated with his response. We will completely cherish the day when Zack can tell us what he did hopefully without having to repeat himself in order to be understood.