This terrific therapy needs a new name

To be perfectly clear, even in my wildest fantasies I don't see C. acquiring any sort of occupation. 

But, misnomer aside, we finally re-introduced Occupational Therapy to C.'s regimen this week. She hasn't had it for years. Even while still in school, she rarely received any and never with positive results to show. 

We've been accepted into a pilot project sponsored by a local organization which provides participants with a personal basket of therapies selected by their parents and funded by the sponsor.

The therapist we selected was the only one we could locate in this city who gives receipts and was willing to work in our house. 

I was initially disappointed when she entered on Monday evening for the first session: Young, bubbly, her mouth emblazoned with dark red lipstick, she didn't appear up to the challenge. But that impression dissipated seconds later when she warmly approached and addressed C. 

She first spoke the local language. But when I pointed out that C. hears English almost exclusively, she switched to that with ease - though she is far from fluent in it. 

She took a history, examined C.'s arms and hands, noting what she termed their "surprisingly good condition". Then asked me what C. is capable of doing with her hands. I showed her C.'s pointing for "yes" and putting a spoonful of food to mouth. She gave the performance rave reviews. Despite my engrained cynicism, I really believe her praise was genuine. 

Oh, and while I prepared C.'s food for the eating demo, the woman grabbed the opportunity to have C. pop some balls into a cup.

Finally, she laid out her goals for C. Four very modest, realistic skills she plans to try and impart. She warned me that they will take time and perhaps only half will be achieved. I think she was amazed by my enthusiastic response.