Thursday we meet with a Vocational Rehabilition counselor.
  Max wants to work.  He NEEDS to work.  While i was putting paperwork together today, he went through six two liters of caffree diet pop and a week's supply of cheese sandwiches.  (and bear in mind that he neither needs Mom's constant companionship, nor wants it.)
  i am having a hard time figuring the paperwork out.  "Did someone else help you with this?"  Well, more like, i helped him, but yes, in two hours, over two sessions, i guided him to fill out the parts he could. 
  Then i tackled the hard part.
  Some of it was just tracking stuff down in my mess that only appears organized:  how much did he make at VSA?  Names and addresses of his doctors?  Some is more complicated:  How do you identify the work he did at school?  What grade did he complete, with 3rd grade skills but having put in 15 years?  And when/how did he acquire his disability?  i know he wasn't born with autism, nor is it from accident or illness.
Numbers and organization are not my strong points, but the whole thing really feels beyond me.  And i kinda like to think i am a reasonably intelligent woman in full possession of my faculties yet.

No comments:

Post a Comment

i look forward to your comments! Thank you for sharing them.