It takes hours for me to decompress from my son's behavioral therapy sessions. He seems to recover quickly from screaming, crying and melting down at various points during the hour.
His torture is a small amount of mashed banana mixed into in smooth yogurt. He will struggle to touch the spoonful with his teeth, refuse to wrap his lips around it. When it enters his mouth he will put his fingers in there to remove the food, prevent himself from swallowing the poison. Then he will shake the offensive goo off his hand, spraying it around the room, or wipe the combination of spittle, yogurt and snot on his shirt in a panic. His voice a primal scream of pain and extreme discomfort.
The same horrors happen when a quarter of a miniature vanilla wafer is crumbled into a powder, then mixed in with some caramel cream pudding. His Mother got to witness this first hand today, distressing is an under statement.
The bases are foods that he likes. The mix ins, the solids, go into his system like daggers. We do not know where this profound aversion to food comes from, or started.
We try not to get angry, keep neutral when the negative behaviors occur, when food is thrown, when he pushes food or plates and makes them fly. We do cheer when a bite is taken, cheer louder at a second. Even the iPad is not very effective as a bribe, a positive reinforcement.
No one seems to know what it will take. He's going to be ten next month and does not weigh fifty pounds. We're not even sure if inpatient therapy would help. It's not available in Columbus, and we're not sure if it's anywhere near us. Cleveland, perhaps? Then there's the insurance issue. Hell, even if unlimited funds were available, I'm not sure this would be solved. He's getting good help, or I'd like to think that, and we're received some good advice from all over. The hardest work is up to him though.