Two editorials about that little girl...
May. 19th, 2006 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conuly
Written by the same person... interesting.
The first article
To me, Karen McCarron sounded like a great mom.
She told me about her family's sacrifice to help her 3-year-old autistic daughter. She described the frustration in trying to secure adequate help for the girl. And she talked about extensive preparations for the child's upcoming school year.
I wished her luck. And three weeks later, she'd suffocate her little girl with a plastic bag?
It makes no sense in any scenario, but particularly not here. Not in a nice neighborhood in Morton. Not in a family of privilege. Not with a mother who is a physician, a person sworn to protect life.
Until this month, young Katherine McCarron was safe in North Carolina, with her father. Too bad she didn't stay there. She might still be alive today.
Karen and Paul McCarron wed in 2001. She worked as a pathologist in Peoria; he is an engineer for Caterpillar Inc.
Three years ago, along came Katherine. A year later another child arrived.
Katherine has been a challenge: She had severe autism, her mother told me.
Her autism is what brought my acquaintance to the family's struggles three weeks ago. An activist-friend of Karen McCarron's told me about challenges the family was facing as they resettled in Morton. So I called Karen McCarron.
McCarron sounded like an enthusiastic, caring mother. It seemed as if her life's focus was on Katherine.
About 18 months ago, she and her husband decided Katherine needed better autism treatment than available in central Illinois. They found a clinic in Raleigh, N.C., that specialized in autism treatment.
The move would be easy for Paul McCarron, who could transfer to a Cat outpost in North Carolina. But Karen McCarron could not as easily find a pathologist's job there.
So they made the best of the situation. Paul McCarron moved with Katherine to North Carolina, where his own mother could help with child care. Karen McCarron would stay with the 2-year-old in Morton, where Karen McCarron's mother could help look after the tot.
On weekends, Karen McCarron often would fly to North Carolina to visit her husband and Katherine. Authorities have since confirmed that the couple's marriage showed no signs of trouble.
But, she told me, the separation became unbearable for the family. So, despite the specialized care Katherine was receiving in North Carolina, the couple decided she and the rest of the family would be better off reunited in Morton. Katherine would return in early May, while her father would transfer back later.
All told, I was impressed with Karen McCarron's dedication and drive to make her daughter's life as normal as possible.
Her friend told me I should consider doing a story to help the family. When I called Karen McCarron, she sounded measured and grounded, not at all exasperated.
She told me of some minor difficulties she'd had with Morton Community School District 709, which has had some public battles about its special-ed services. With Katherine coming into the school district, she (as per state law) would have to be evaluated to determine her need for services.
Karen McCarron, like any concerned parent, wanted the district to do the evaluation as soon as possible. That way, she told me, she could make sure service providers were made aware of Katherine's severe problems.
"You need to have some preparation," she told me.
The district, however, was a bit backlogged in its evaluations. So Katherine's evaluation would have to wait, possibly until late summer.
Karen McCarron was upset - but not fuming - about the wait. She told me she'd considered addressing the School Board, but had had second thoughts and decided to work things through.
It didn't seem like much of a story to me, at least not yet. Karen McCarron said she'd keep me apprised of the matter, just in case she needed help with Katherine's services. Further, she told me I might want to write a bigger piece about the troubles facing autistic children and their parents. I told her I'd think about it.
Now I wonder if we'll ever understand exactly what troubles she was talking about.
And the second.
Dr. Karen McCarron helped other parents of autistic children, but in the end couldn't help herself.
McCarron leaned on her medical training and research skills to seek ways to aid her autistic 3-year-old, Katherine. With an autism-support group, she gladly shared her knowledge and support with others. But she became consumed with her daughter's condition and care.
"With parents, your life is all about autism," says a friend of McCarron's. "The thing with Karen is, she didn't walk away. She never took a night off. She couldn't break away from the dark stuff."
Autistic children often bring overwhelming demands and stress to family life, say parents of autistic kids. But McCarron's desperation - and, a friend says, depression - pushed her to the extreme decision of snuffing out her daughter's life with a plastic bag.
"This is not just some crazy woman that killed her kid," the friend says. "There's more to the story."
Yesterday's column discussed how just three weeks ago I spoke with McCarron, 37, regarding a possible story on local autism services. McCarron, who sounded measured and caring to me, said she'd been frustrated in finding medical and educational services for her child.
The exact cause of the autism is unknown, but it is believed to stem from a neurologic or chemical abnormality in the brain. Signs of autism include difficultly in communicating, diminished social interaction and resistance to change (see autism-society.org and ninds.nih.gov).
Autism is one of five Pervasive Developmental Disorders, which affect one in 166 births. Some need round-the-clock care for life, others go on to productive lives as adults. About 1.5 million Americans have some form of autism, and the number is on the rise.
But the research of autism is a relatively new field. Most of its biggest advances have occurred over the past decade and under constant flux still, says Sue Grimm of Groveland, who has two autistic boys.
Grimm, a nurse at Pekin Hospital, knew McCarron through the local support group ANSWERS (Autism Needs Support WherEveR it Strikes). Both women share the opinion that doctors have little knowledge of breaking autism science, and thus often do a poor job of diagnosing the disease early.
Even after diagnosis, parents face huge obstacles, many of them not seen in more common diseases:
- Education. Many schools have little or no resources to help autistic children. Grimm estimates only four states (not including Illinois) offer sufficient autism programs for students. Some parents hire outside help, such as pre-med college students - if they can afford it.
- Money. Some insurers take the old view of autism as a psychological disorder, and thus deny coverage of medical costs. Treatment often demands the interaction of a primary physician, neurologist, nutritionist and other specialists. Plus, there's the cost for drugs, which vary widely depending on the degree of autism.
- Stress. The coordination of treatment and education is exasperating to parents, especially those of severely autistic children. Grimm admits that hopelessness over the disease prompted her to entertain thoughts of suicide years ago, but she fought through the anguish to aid her sons, now teenagers.
Authorities have refused to divulge a motive for the murder of little Katherine. But a friend of Karen McCarron's (who asked not to be named) blames a combination of the three factors above - especially the stress of a trained physician desperate to help her daughter who suffered a severe inability to communicate.
Eighteen months ago, Karen McCarron and husband Paul McCarron took the extraordinary step of separating the family to seek topflight treatment for Katherine at a renowned autism clinic in North Carolina. Paul McCarron, an engineer for Caterpillar Inc., transferred to a Cat outpost in North Carolina, where he and his mother cared for Katherine.
Karen McCarron, tied to her medical practice in Peoria, stayed at the family's Morton home with the couple's 2-year-old, Emily, and frequently had the child-care assistance of Karen McCarron's mother. On weekends, Karen McCarron often would fly to visit in North Carolina.
But the absence became too hard to bear, and so the family reunited this month in Morton. Still, the separation had taken a huge toll on Karen McCarron, her friend says.
Meanwhile, Karen McCarron had busied herself in an effort to find clues to the puzzle of her daughter's autism
"She read every book. She was trying so hard, pursuing every lead," the friend says.
McCarron joined ANSWERS, where her expertise served others.
"She was helping other people," the friend says.
But McCarron became shaken of late when Katherine - despite the clinic treatment - began regressing.
"Her communications more dramatically decreased," the friend says.
The setback only exacerbated Karen McCarron's difficulty in accepting her daughter's condition, her friend says. Unlike coping parents of autistic children, McCarron did not go through a grieving process.
"It's like a death, because a child you had in mind has died," the friend says.
Lately, McCarron sounded increasingly desperate in frequent conversations with her friend.
"She was always crying," the friend says.
The friend asked McCarron if she might be suffering from depression. McCarron replied that she was taking anti-depressants, the friend says.
Still, the friend did not detect any hint of McCarron's doing something drastic.
"I don't condone what she did," the friend says. " ... (But) you have those moments. And at the last moment, she snapped."
The friend pauses, wondering why McCarron couldn't get as much out of the autism-support group as she gave.
"They helped me," the friend says. "Or I could've been another Karen McCarron."
According to these editorials, the girl's mom is a veritable saint. Well, we can wrap this one up. I'll post again about it when the verdict's in. Not like I can't see where it's all going.
The first article
To me, Karen McCarron sounded like a great mom.
She told me about her family's sacrifice to help her 3-year-old autistic daughter. She described the frustration in trying to secure adequate help for the girl. And she talked about extensive preparations for the child's upcoming school year.
I wished her luck. And three weeks later, she'd suffocate her little girl with a plastic bag?
It makes no sense in any scenario, but particularly not here. Not in a nice neighborhood in Morton. Not in a family of privilege. Not with a mother who is a physician, a person sworn to protect life.
Until this month, young Katherine McCarron was safe in North Carolina, with her father. Too bad she didn't stay there. She might still be alive today.
Karen and Paul McCarron wed in 2001. She worked as a pathologist in Peoria; he is an engineer for Caterpillar Inc.
Three years ago, along came Katherine. A year later another child arrived.
Katherine has been a challenge: She had severe autism, her mother told me.
Her autism is what brought my acquaintance to the family's struggles three weeks ago. An activist-friend of Karen McCarron's told me about challenges the family was facing as they resettled in Morton. So I called Karen McCarron.
McCarron sounded like an enthusiastic, caring mother. It seemed as if her life's focus was on Katherine.
About 18 months ago, she and her husband decided Katherine needed better autism treatment than available in central Illinois. They found a clinic in Raleigh, N.C., that specialized in autism treatment.
The move would be easy for Paul McCarron, who could transfer to a Cat outpost in North Carolina. But Karen McCarron could not as easily find a pathologist's job there.
So they made the best of the situation. Paul McCarron moved with Katherine to North Carolina, where his own mother could help with child care. Karen McCarron would stay with the 2-year-old in Morton, where Karen McCarron's mother could help look after the tot.
On weekends, Karen McCarron often would fly to North Carolina to visit her husband and Katherine. Authorities have since confirmed that the couple's marriage showed no signs of trouble.
But, she told me, the separation became unbearable for the family. So, despite the specialized care Katherine was receiving in North Carolina, the couple decided she and the rest of the family would be better off reunited in Morton. Katherine would return in early May, while her father would transfer back later.
All told, I was impressed with Karen McCarron's dedication and drive to make her daughter's life as normal as possible.
Her friend told me I should consider doing a story to help the family. When I called Karen McCarron, she sounded measured and grounded, not at all exasperated.
She told me of some minor difficulties she'd had with Morton Community School District 709, which has had some public battles about its special-ed services. With Katherine coming into the school district, she (as per state law) would have to be evaluated to determine her need for services.
Karen McCarron, like any concerned parent, wanted the district to do the evaluation as soon as possible. That way, she told me, she could make sure service providers were made aware of Katherine's severe problems.
"You need to have some preparation," she told me.
The district, however, was a bit backlogged in its evaluations. So Katherine's evaluation would have to wait, possibly until late summer.
Karen McCarron was upset - but not fuming - about the wait. She told me she'd considered addressing the School Board, but had had second thoughts and decided to work things through.
It didn't seem like much of a story to me, at least not yet. Karen McCarron said she'd keep me apprised of the matter, just in case she needed help with Katherine's services. Further, she told me I might want to write a bigger piece about the troubles facing autistic children and their parents. I told her I'd think about it.
Now I wonder if we'll ever understand exactly what troubles she was talking about.
And the second.
Dr. Karen McCarron helped other parents of autistic children, but in the end couldn't help herself.
McCarron leaned on her medical training and research skills to seek ways to aid her autistic 3-year-old, Katherine. With an autism-support group, she gladly shared her knowledge and support with others. But she became consumed with her daughter's condition and care.
"With parents, your life is all about autism," says a friend of McCarron's. "The thing with Karen is, she didn't walk away. She never took a night off. She couldn't break away from the dark stuff."
Autistic children often bring overwhelming demands and stress to family life, say parents of autistic kids. But McCarron's desperation - and, a friend says, depression - pushed her to the extreme decision of snuffing out her daughter's life with a plastic bag.
"This is not just some crazy woman that killed her kid," the friend says. "There's more to the story."
Yesterday's column discussed how just three weeks ago I spoke with McCarron, 37, regarding a possible story on local autism services. McCarron, who sounded measured and caring to me, said she'd been frustrated in finding medical and educational services for her child.
The exact cause of the autism is unknown, but it is believed to stem from a neurologic or chemical abnormality in the brain. Signs of autism include difficultly in communicating, diminished social interaction and resistance to change (see autism-society.org and ninds.nih.gov).
Autism is one of five Pervasive Developmental Disorders, which affect one in 166 births. Some need round-the-clock care for life, others go on to productive lives as adults. About 1.5 million Americans have some form of autism, and the number is on the rise.
But the research of autism is a relatively new field. Most of its biggest advances have occurred over the past decade and under constant flux still, says Sue Grimm of Groveland, who has two autistic boys.
Grimm, a nurse at Pekin Hospital, knew McCarron through the local support group ANSWERS (Autism Needs Support WherEveR it Strikes). Both women share the opinion that doctors have little knowledge of breaking autism science, and thus often do a poor job of diagnosing the disease early.
Even after diagnosis, parents face huge obstacles, many of them not seen in more common diseases:
- Education. Many schools have little or no resources to help autistic children. Grimm estimates only four states (not including Illinois) offer sufficient autism programs for students. Some parents hire outside help, such as pre-med college students - if they can afford it.
- Money. Some insurers take the old view of autism as a psychological disorder, and thus deny coverage of medical costs. Treatment often demands the interaction of a primary physician, neurologist, nutritionist and other specialists. Plus, there's the cost for drugs, which vary widely depending on the degree of autism.
- Stress. The coordination of treatment and education is exasperating to parents, especially those of severely autistic children. Grimm admits that hopelessness over the disease prompted her to entertain thoughts of suicide years ago, but she fought through the anguish to aid her sons, now teenagers.
Authorities have refused to divulge a motive for the murder of little Katherine. But a friend of Karen McCarron's (who asked not to be named) blames a combination of the three factors above - especially the stress of a trained physician desperate to help her daughter who suffered a severe inability to communicate.
Eighteen months ago, Karen McCarron and husband Paul McCarron took the extraordinary step of separating the family to seek topflight treatment for Katherine at a renowned autism clinic in North Carolina. Paul McCarron, an engineer for Caterpillar Inc., transferred to a Cat outpost in North Carolina, where he and his mother cared for Katherine.
Karen McCarron, tied to her medical practice in Peoria, stayed at the family's Morton home with the couple's 2-year-old, Emily, and frequently had the child-care assistance of Karen McCarron's mother. On weekends, Karen McCarron often would fly to visit in North Carolina.
But the absence became too hard to bear, and so the family reunited this month in Morton. Still, the separation had taken a huge toll on Karen McCarron, her friend says.
Meanwhile, Karen McCarron had busied herself in an effort to find clues to the puzzle of her daughter's autism
"She read every book. She was trying so hard, pursuing every lead," the friend says.
McCarron joined ANSWERS, where her expertise served others.
"She was helping other people," the friend says.
But McCarron became shaken of late when Katherine - despite the clinic treatment - began regressing.
"Her communications more dramatically decreased," the friend says.
The setback only exacerbated Karen McCarron's difficulty in accepting her daughter's condition, her friend says. Unlike coping parents of autistic children, McCarron did not go through a grieving process.
"It's like a death, because a child you had in mind has died," the friend says.
Lately, McCarron sounded increasingly desperate in frequent conversations with her friend.
"She was always crying," the friend says.
The friend asked McCarron if she might be suffering from depression. McCarron replied that she was taking anti-depressants, the friend says.
Still, the friend did not detect any hint of McCarron's doing something drastic.
"I don't condone what she did," the friend says. " ... (But) you have those moments. And at the last moment, she snapped."
The friend pauses, wondering why McCarron couldn't get as much out of the autism-support group as she gave.
"They helped me," the friend says. "Or I could've been another Karen McCarron."
According to these editorials, the girl's mom is a veritable saint. Well, we can wrap this one up. I'll post again about it when the verdict's in. Not like I can't see where it's all going.
