ADD

Let me tell you the saga of our family and ADD. 

First, where did it come from?  My best guess is my dad's side of the family, and that's because of some rather telling information that's been passed down about a few members.  My mom's side of the family appears to be quite blameless, since no one had any particular problems in school or otherwise.

When I was in elementary school, I dreaded teacher conferences.  My mom and sister would always give me the report that, "Karen daydreams."  I knew that.  I'd be sitting in class and minding my own business, when all of the sudden I'd look up and everyone was getting a book out of their desk and turning to a specific page.  If I asked for help from someone, there was always the risk of getting in trouble.  So I did the best I could to try and catch up.  As time went by, I quit answering in class and simply tried to be invisible.  The assessment I had of myself was something like this:  dumber than a box of rocks.  A lot of stress and effort went into keeping my stupidity a secret from my family, all of whom seemed to excel.  When we were asked to choose teams at school, my heart literally dropped an inch or two, because I knew my name would be called last or second to last.  The kids knew I was dumb as a box of rocks too.  And I was apparently alone in this in my family.

That is, except for my older sister, but since I was born 15 years after she was, I didn't hear about all of the stories until years later.  Like how she would spell her name, "NAOJ," in school -- a sure signal for dyslexia which I did not have.  How she struggled in school and somehow by an almost miracle she made it through nurse's training and received the coveted RN.

College sure seemed far fetched for someone like me, but in a strange twist of events, the Dean of Girls at my high school met with my sister (my mother by this time was deceased).  She told her that I had scored high on IQ tests and should go to college if at all possible.  So I did indeed go.  At first it was really tough.  I didn't know how to study whatsoever.  Finally, I came up with my own individual style of studying.  I'd sit on the bed in my room and look at the lecture notes.  I'd recreate the lecture that I'd heard in class, and go over and over it until I could recite the lecture by looking only at the top line of each page.  My grades shot up; I graduated!!!  Apparently, only 40% of those with ADD make it through college.

Then in another twist of fate, I ended up working at The University of Akron.  I loved the academic atmosphere, and worked at that time in the Department of Accounting.  My boys were older and one of them was trying to figure out algebra.  Finally, I brought the problems into work one day and the department chair worked on them for a while and tried to show me how he got the answers.  I remarked to no one in particular, "I think maybe I have some kind of brain dysfunction."

When my older son went to college, he also struggled.  He liked playing volleyball just as much as studying, in fact much more, so he sometimes neglected the work he should have been doing.  He was now 23 years old.  I wondered if he would ever graduate.

My sweet, dear friend, Kathy Rhodes, had died some time before I picked up the Akron Beacon Journal one day and read a prominent article -- about adult ADD.  I don't know why she came to mind, but to this day, I know that Kathy had something to do with me seeing that story.  Because when I read it, the hair on my neck rose and I got the chills.  It not only described me to a tee; it described my son to a tee.  He had gotten by in school, but even his second grade teacher knew there was something not quite right. 

I prayed for just the right time to mention what I had read to my son.  The time came, and he was very open to the information.  I found a doctor in Akron who treated adult ADD and my son went in for an examination.  He went to Kent, Ohio for a special test that the doctor liked to give adults.  Then we went in for the results.  My own ADD was self-diagnosed, but my son's wasn't.  He was clearly ADD; the tests showed it.  But the doctor's wonderful explanation and summary were what stuck in my mind.  He told my son, "You have a wonderful, fast brain.  You should be getting all A's in school.  I've given this test to a lot of people and you scored the second highest of anyone.  I scored the highest and that's because I knew what was coming."

We all turned a corner that day.  Now I knew the real reason for my struggles in school that I'd always blamed on my mother's illness and father's drinking.  Now I knew the reason for my son's problems.  Now we could do something about it.

Nope, it's not about medicine, at least not for us.  It's about learning to use your brain so that you compensate for the difference.  It's about embracing what an ADD brain can do.  It's about accepting yourself as a person who happens to have ADD.  It's about learning to organize.  It's about knowing that there may be some things you can never really figure out.

One day a student came into my office at UA.  It was summer, and she was trying to figure out a schedule problem.  I guess she felt like talking and I felt like listening, since she described some of her problems in school.  "I can make it through to about the 10th week and then it starts going downhill."  Sounded kind of familiar to me and I hesitated -- should I suggest to a complete stranger that she might have ADD?  I did talk to her about it.  I felt like God really wanted me to.  A year or so later, one of the professors from Accounting sought me out to tell me that she had graduated, and "it's because of you." 

So if you know someone with ADD or suspect as much, don't be afraid to talk about it.  Believe me -- knowing is so much better than not knowing.

And those twists of fate in my life -- their are no twists of fate.  God, God, God.  And thank you, God.