Luke's Story: Part 1

Why Chiropractic for Kids?

It has taken me 10 years to write out and “share” this story.  Why now?  Quite honestly, it’s time to be the loudest voice.  Far too many kids and families are suffering needlessly, and it is because they do not know, or have been misinformed about the help that is within reach.  Why not share this 5 years ago you might ask?  Well, that’s a great question!  The honest answer…fear.  I feared people would think I was trying to leverage our “limp” for personal gain.  I feared the backlash I may receive from the medical establishment (whoever they are) for stepping out of the “box” they try so hard to keep.  I was embarrassed that as a Chiropractor I needed another Chiropractor to tell me what Chiropractic is, so that I can help my own kid.  I was afraid I didn’t or wouldn’t have the answers to the inevitable questions of “how” and “why.”  And ultimately, I was afraid of the scars it might lift to actually put this on paper and make it public.  The truth is, it hurts some to write this, but it also wells up so much joy and hope for what I know God is going to do through it in the months and years to come.  There is a piece of my heart and soul, as well as tears on my keyboard, in this letter, but if it helps just one family or child experience what we have, or casts hope that there is help, I would do it a thousand times over.

Sandy and I thought we had the “easiest kid” imaginable.  From Luke’s natural, quick, and uncomplicated entry into this world, to his sleeping through the night at just 6 days old, we told everyone “he is SO easy!”  Uninterested in being coddled or held, we figured he was just independent and that we were among the fortunate few parents to have a baby that was highly self-soothing and content.  It couldn’t be this easy, right? 

It really was easy, at first.  Then, it wasn’t long until we began to notice specific characteristics that seemed odd and were alarming.  In actuality, I saw some concerns, but they were much more unsettling to Sandy, who holds a Degree in Psychology and Child Development (but also, never underestimate mama’s intuition!).  I am not sure where to begin with these traits we saw, but for starters, Luke wasn’t much of a talker, and what he tried to say seemed foreign.  He became obsessed with certain toys (“spot” and “plain”, his mini plastic “horsies”), and foods (eating as many Key Lime yogurts as we would allow…so many in fact, that the grocery store employees at multiple stores would go into the back refrigerators to grab us a case when they saw us coming).  Anything he found with a pattern or similarity he would organize and “line up.”  His cars, blocks, horsies, army men…all lined up and color coordinated!  Maybe he is just a Type-A personality, right?

His obsessiveness didn’t end on toys or objects.  Luke’s insistence on a schedule became increasingly more rigid, as we quickly learned that the order in which we begin and would proceed throughout our morning routine would completely dictate the course of that day, and maybe even that week.  So much of this time is a blur, yet so many items are etched into our minds.  For instance, I cannot recall his exact age, but we had decided to stay a couple nights at the beach, in a hotel, only to find myself on the road back home at 1:00am with a young SCREAMING, inconsolable boy.  Remember I said he slept through the night since he was 6 days old? Yeah, well, only in his own bed in his own room.  I remember every second of that drive, even the tears that welled in my own eyes and I felt so helpless.  It was about that time that I determined, “there has got to be SOMETHING we can do!”  At that time and in that moment, I had no idea there was/is “something” that could/can be done (more on that later).  What happened when we got home?  Well, Luke continued to scream throughout the house as I carried him down the hallway and up the stairs, until we got to his room, and then his crib, where he instantly fell asleep.  It was like he found all he had ever wanted in the safe-haven of his crib.  It was bitter-sweet.  I was so relieved he was calm and resting, but deep down, I was aching and longing to help him…weren’t Sandy and I supposed to be that safe place?

Speaking of driving, when Luke was about 1 year old or so, we found that sometimes he would “FREAK OUT” on our way home from wherever we might have been coming from.  Usually this happened when we were within a couple miles of our house.  Through some investigation and trial, we discovered it was the route we were taking.  There were a couple options on streets we could drive down toward our house, and 90% of the time we selected the same one.  Every once and a while we would mix it up; and mixing it up and Luke did not play well with each other…like fire and gasoline; an explosion waiting to happen.  Honestly, this continued for a long time, and even when he did start talking much later and in a very delayed, choppy, and poorly articulating manner, I can still his sweet, but incredibly stressed voice yelling “WONG-WAY, WONG-WAY MAMA!”  I’m telling you, that boy was crazy about schedule and routine.

And there was the head banging.  I had almost forgotten about this (probably more mental suppression than forgetfulness), but Sandy reminded me of it as we were discussing and reflecting on the details of this story recently, along with our desire to finally and fully share it with the world.  Luke would sprawl out, or sometimes just sit, on the floor and begin banging his head on it…the tile floor.  Usually it would be his forehead, and generally not associated with any form of tantrum.  It was like his brain was telling him to do it…and it even seemed soothing for him.  Of course, we wouldn’t allow him to do it, but occasionally we would hear what sounded like a head of lettuce falling off the counter, rapidly and repeated, only to find our little head-banger “rocking out” without any music.  It was not constant, and he wasn’t out of our direct sight very often, but there was a time where it was happening very frequently.

We were able to manage and limit the head-banging for the most part, but a certain noise Luke was beginning to make quickly picked up speed, gained momentum and was getting out of control.  I have thought long and hard how to describe that noise…and I don’t think typing or spelling it will do justice.  How do I even spell this?  I would never make light of it, and it was not nearly as obnoxious as the example I am bout to share, but every time I think about it, or even on very rare occasions still hear it, my mind goes to the scene in “Dumb and Dumber” where Harry and Lloyd make the “most annoying sound in the world.”  Think of a sustained moderately loud nasally “n” sound… “nnnnnnnn…”  We eventually learned that this is referred to as an “overflow noise”, characteristic of what Luke was dealing with.  It served to help his brain focus.  We called it his “concentration noise,” as it was much more prevalent, actually at one point in his life it was ALWAYS present when concentrating or focusing.  When lining up and organizing his toys, the noise would continue for hours, seemingly without him ever stopping for air.  Still, every so often, we hear the noise briefly when Luke is honing in his attention on something.

A bit more subtly, for as long and we can remember, Luke’s little fists were clenched.  It was like he was ready to “throw down” at any moment.  However, it was not the normal brawl-type fist.  His thumbs were tucked in as his other fingers wrapped around them.  This, we would come to find, revealed a lot of what was going on with him.  It is a classically identified as a sensory defensive posture.  The thumbs being clenched within the closed hand was and is not defensive in the sense of fighting or punching, but self-defense for sure…or perhaps better labelled self-preservation.  You see, this posture and positioning of the thumbs within the hands limits the stimulation or potential of sensory input from the environment (more on this soon, but let’s not get too far ahead of the discussion just yet).

In the midst of, and along with, of all this, we began to noticed social changes.  Luke spent a majority of his first birthday in his room, by himself, playing in his crib, perfectly content and happy.  All the social stimulation brought uncontrollable tears and screams from deep within him.  Friends and family all gather to celebrate him, and he wanted nothing to do with it.  Actually, he had one thing he wanted to do with it…avoid it completely!

As time advanced, so did some of Luke’s socially awkward traits, but not his vocabulary.  At his 18-month check-up with his pediatrician, we decided it was time to ask for a referral to have him evaluated.  Sandy even asked the pediatrician if Luke was mentally retarded.  Our pediatrician’s reply was essentially, time will tell.  His pediatrician denied our request as she did not seem nearly as concerned as us (remember that “mama’s intuition” thing).  She told us we were over-reacting and cannot compare “apples and oranges,” referring to Addisyn, Luke’s older sister who was a verbal phenom.   So, without the support of our pediatrician or medical group, we “self-referred” to IRC (Inland Regional Center) for the evaluation we knew Luke needed, unaware of the reality that it was going to ROCK our World!.  The assessments seemed to go pretty well, as the multiple psychologists and counselors we saw had Luke play with various items… something he was great at, as long as he was left alone and could find symmetry and pattern.

The reports we received from Luke’s evaluations, and the several to follow, by multiple different pediatric psychologists, all drew the same conclusion.   We sought out and deeply wanted help for Luke, but I’m not sure we really wanted answers?  We definitely were not prepared for the “answers”, at least not the ones we received…