Let me tell you about my friend, Brice.
I first remember seeing Brice within the early weeks of my freshman year in college. Out of more than 20,000 students, I saw him often. He lived in the dorm across from mine. He was always chatting with someone, and seemed very popular. Even though we didn't hang within the same social circles, we shared a few classes. We talked in the quad or cafeteria, etc. Brice was the kind of guy who always made you smile. He had this laid back, positive persona and his hugs... oh my... Brice hugs were the best hugs around. He always acted like you were the most important person in the world and he would give you a huge hug to make you believe it. He had no idea how those hugs made some of my glummest days more bearable. Fights with my boyfriend? Blech. Running into Brice in the Quad and getting a "hello hug"? Much better. Even though we were quite possibly on opposite ends of the spectrum of
politics/religion, there was always something to connect you to Brice.
You'd have to meet him. You'd love him.
During my senior year, his dad died and my heart hurt for him. I didn't know what to do or say. I knew he liked snow boarding so I got him a few magazines, even though it seemed so little. But, Brice was the greeting guy with the hugs. We weren't that close. There were no deep talks... or phone conversations. He was Brice... the guy that everyone seemed to know. And, after college, his love of snowboarding led him to Colorado. Since I also lived in Denver, we started hanging out often. He was a great swing dance partner, a laid back ear at the pub, and someone with whom I adored spending time.
So, when I was planning a trip to Denver, I contacted him through Facebook to see if we could link up. We hadn't seen each other in 11 or so years, since I had lived there. But, if you know Brice, he's the kind of friend you just pick right up with. We decided to meet at Wahoo's for dinner.
{{Here's where my night gets crazy. In college, Brice's greeting hugs (his 6'4" self hugging my 5'9" self and swinging me around and around like it was nothing) made the weight of my day lighter. And, here he is, nearly 20 years later, making the weight of my day... and year...lighter.}}
Jared was being his awkward self at the beginning of dinner so I explained to Brice that he has APD. I didn't even describe what it was before Brice said, "Oh yeah. I have that. Auditory Discrimination." (check the right panel of this blog to see the definition.) Of course, in my head I was thinking, "No. You don't understand. I don't think you get what it is. There's no way you have this." Of course, Brice - in his casual way - told me that he never even knew he had it when he was a kid. His mom told him he had this learning disorder when he was an adult. When he was a kid, he just remembered being in therapy at a very early age and doing phonics therapy when the other kids were in PE class, etc.
What? Was I hearing this correctly? I think my jaw actually dropped as the wheels in my head started spinning so fast I couldn't even articulate all the questions I had for him.
"Did it just disappear?" "How are you so 'normal'?" "How did I never know your brain jumbled words around?" "How were you such a good student?" "How did you get through college professor's lectures?" "Don't you have a Masters Degree?" "How do you have this great job? "How do you have so many friends?" When I explained to him all the negative things I've researched and how, as a mom, I feel like this APD brings a life sentence of heartache and pain (like this YouTube video from
last year's blog entry), he couldn't believe it.
I still couldn't believe that he was talking about the same thing Jared has. I never thought he had bad spelling or writing skills. He never looked puzzled during our conversations. It's definitely not to the extent of what Jared has right now. He may have been more extreme as a child, and his proactive mom putting him in therapy at an early age helped.
He shared how he still doesn't "hear" a bunch of what people say. He believes that's why he has a mumbling issue. (Again, I never thought of him as a mumbler, but all these years of memories were flashing through my head as I tried to find some time when I felt he was "different". I couldn't.) At dinner, he would stumble over some words and then point it out, like "See that? That's it right there."
Whoa. I was sitting across the booth from 2 really great guys with APD.
Some experts believe that 1 in 5 kids have APD. In America, I've seen the number as 1 in 10. Yet, I've never met anyone my age... let alone, had a 20 year friendship with someone who has this invisible learning disability. And if you didn't get the gist from this blog entry... if you met him, you'd never even know that he had it. It's truly invisible.
After a tough APD weekend with my child, God knew I needed this success story! It's better than the best hug I could imagine.
I pray that the God who gives hope will fill you with much joy and peace
while you trust in him. Then your hope will overflow by the power of
the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13 (NCV)
