Adrenalin

[ This is something I wrote back in early July, when the seeds of this whole journey were firmly planted. I thought I'd share it here so you can get a sense of why we're so motivated to do this. - Edson]

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I'm not an adrenalin junkie. Don't get me wrong, I like thrills up to a point - roller coasters, sporting events, the occasional suspenseful movie or life-changing decision... Heck, I even went white-water rafting once, and loved it. They put a photographer on top of some big nasty rock, and take a picture of your raft just before you smack into it. In the photo of our raft, everyone was either paddling like mad or hanging on for dear life, concentrating on that rock. Everyone except for me. I had one hand off my paddle and a big grin on my face.

But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. (I just used the word "thing" twice in one sentence. Somewhere a shudder runs up an English teacher's back.)

First, our daughter was playing on the front porch, which she loves to do. Between the porch swing, the sky chairs, the water that collects on top of the rain barrel and the shady fresh air, I can see why. But in order to let her play out there somewhat unsupervised, I had to build a gate to close it off.

I was going about my business inside, when I realized I didn't hear Amelia's singsong chatter. Probably a nap, I thought. No - they said she napped at school. I went out to check on her, but she wasn't there. I checked in all her favorite napping spots, and still no Amelia.

Then I went back out on the porch, and saw that the gate latch was popped. She'd pushed it hard enough to get it open despite the locking pin. The hinges swung it shut again, so I didn't notice right away.

How long had it been? Was she out in the barn? By the water bucket? In the shed? Near the dirt?

$#!+

Every parent's worst nightmare. And for context, Amelia is five years old, she's autistic or something like it, she has almost no language skills and no sense of danger.

I got in the truck and drove the length of the driveway. I looked up and down the two (50 mph) roads that border our property. I called Lori to find out how soon she'd be home (any minute) and keep an eye out for Amelia because I couldn't find her.

Lori went one way up the road and I went the other. How long had it been? How far could she have gone? Did I check everywhere inside the house? A flood of worst case scenarios were racing through my head as I tried not to crap my pants.

Then after what was probably a short while, but that seemed like an eternity... I saw her.

She had wandered across the road to a house that was under construction. It's a good quarter mile away at least. Thankfully, the workers had let her play and kept her out of danger.

And I felt like the worst parent on the face of the earth. And not like the "Bad Father" jokes we kick around from time to time. I felt like throwing up.

That experience motivated us to start filling out the paperwork for something we'd heard about not too long ago: Service dogs for special needs kids.

While we were filling out the forms, not two hours after Amelia's Bogus Journey, she started choking on a mouthful of pretzels. Her mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Her arms were flapping and she looked panicked. Lori did the Heimlich Maneuver, or something approximating it, several times until Amelia threw up her pretzels and started crying.

Everybody is ok, and Amelia is no worse for wear. I'm not sure about her parents.

Amelia prudently chose a different snack, and went back to her happy routines.

Meanwhile, as I implied above, I think I've had more than enough adrenalin for one day. I've probably had enough everything for one day. But sleep seems far off right now. I wasn't sure if I should write about this, or if I wanted to. I'm still not sure, and I don't know what purpose it serves except to get it out of my system. But here it is.

Not very fun emotions to revisit. I'm scared all over again, long after the fact. But it's over. Life can resume it's normal course.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go put on some clean underwear. Again.

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A Service Dog for Amelia

My name is Lori Freeman. Five-year-old Amelia Freeman, a Circleville resident and my only daughter, has a very special opportunity. We are seeking the support of our family, our friends, and our community, in order to achieve this potentially life-saving goal. You can help.

Amelia has developmental delays in all areas. She cannot speak, and seems to understand only a very few words. While she has not been diagnosed as autistic, she displays many of the characteristics of an autistic child — most significantly, she has no awareness of the danger of traffic, deep water, or the ill intentions of a stranger. She also has a fascination with water and a tendency to be an “escape artist,” and generally does not respond to her father’s or my calls. Combine these traits and you have a recipe for disaster!

4 Paws for Ability, a nonprofit organization located in Xenia, Ohio, has the answer. They have agreed to train and place a service dog, known as an autism assistance dog, in her home. This dog — which may well be a rescued dog that would otherwise be destroyed — will be trained specifically for Amelia. Besides being a loving and loyal companion to her, it will be a working dog. Unfortunately, it cannot be trained to clean up after our little agent of chaos. But its tasks will include, among others, tracking. On those occasions when Amelia defeats our latest safety measures and escapes the house, the dog will find her for us so that we can bring her home safely!

I mentioned before that you can help; allow me to explain. Training one of these dogs is a costly process. Amelia’s dog will cost $13,000 to train. Most service dog organizations would place Amelia on a waiting list, from 2 to 5 years, until they could raise the necessary funds. However, 4 Paws for Ability is special in that they allow parents to volunteer and raise the money in their own community. This will allow Amelia to have her dog much sooner, and in addition, it will help bring this wonderful opportunity for all persons with disabilities to the public awareness. As you may know, autism affects many thousands of people, not to mention other disabilities (for example, cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome, epilepsy, or spina bifida) that afflict thousands more.

Please consider making a donation to support our efforts! Donations are tax-deductible. If you are unable to donate online, please contact me and I will provide you with a donation form. Please do not send money to us! Moneys are to go directly to 4 Paws, so please make checks payable to 4 Paws for Ability, and be sure to write “In Honor of Amelia Freeman” on the memo line so that we are given credit for our volunteer work. If you are unable to donate funds, you may wish to consider donating goods or services (to be used in a fundraising auction or raffle to benefit 4 Paws).

Thank you so much for your time, consideration, and support!