Have you ever said bad things after calling an automated customer service line? Swearing, maybe? Throwing objects, maybe? It is like being in an M.C. Esher painting, isn’t it? Who knows if you’re going forward or back, up or down.
I felt like that after we found out about my son’s Down syndrome. In the Pit of Google, I found simultaneously too much and not enough information. Medical risks, inclusion, therapy, advocacy, there was so much, yet it felt like trying to use an automated customer service line. I’d go to one website, get bounced to another, and half a dozen clicks later, I’d somehow be in the same place I’d started, confused as ever. All the while, I could yell and I could cry, but nothing changed. Websites don’t have social skills.
Then there were things well beyond the factual aspects of raising a child with…
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