Adar Institute... a whole world!

So, as I wrote… we arrived at the Adar Institute through a recommendation, and once we realized this was the direction we were heading, we visited the Adar Institute’s website and discovered a whole world of articles, video lectures, and a wealth of information that we, as parents encountering this issue for the first time, were missing. Needless to say, I spent hours in front of the computer reading the articles, trying to understand, even just a little, what my son was going through. Additionally, the website offers self-assessment questionnaires to provide an initial indication for diagnosis (of course, this does not replace a professional diagnosis). Then, I filled out the adult questionnaire about myself and… of course, the result was ADD—Attention Deficit Disorder (without the H). And anyone who knows me knows that hyperactivity is not part of who I am.

When the long-awaited appointment arrived, we spoke with Noam and explained to him (as much as we understood what we were explaining…) about the difficulties he was experiencing and that we were going to see a doctor who would examine it and help make things easier for him. We were advised not to bring siblings and, of course, to come with a lot of patience, as the meeting, along with the diagnosis, would take about four hours.

So, we enlisted Grandma from Be’er Sheva to watch the siblings and drove to the institute. The institute is located in a villa neighborhood (Ramat) in Be’er Sheva, and from the moment you enter the yard, you can already see how special it is. A fish pond at the entrance, a porch entirely made of brown wood, giving off a sense of homeliness and warmth. It feels like a romantic cabin in the north.

When we entered, we were amazed to see a giant saltwater aquarium in the waiting area—you can only imagine the stunning fish in there. Additionally, the waiting room has a computer corner, a PlayStation station, a craft table for kids, and, of course, a seating area for parents who spend hours there.

After a brief check-in and settling the financial matters, one of the staff members took Noam and accompanied him to a back room where the first part of the TOVA test was conducted. The TOVA (Test of Variables of Attention) is a computerized test designed to neurologically assess behavioral characteristics of attention deficit, concentration, and hyperactivity. The test measures variable attention ability in the form of a simple computer game that evaluates responses to visual stimuli. It is one of the most commonly used tests among neurologists for diagnosing ADHD.

The first part was completed, and at the same time, we realized that the entire institute is under surveillance, and the doctor (Dr. Adi Adar), who sits in his office on the second floor, observes everything happening and watches the children who come to the institute. After the test, we went upstairs to meet the doctor. During the meeting, Dr. Adar reviewed the questionnaires we had sent to the institute (a parent questionnaire and a teacher questionnaire) and occasionally asked Noam to perform a task (worksheets). Noam completed the tasks, and most of the time, there was silence in the room—we didn’t talk. Time passed, and Noam completed all the tasks Dr. Adar asked him to do excellently. Then, suddenly, Dr. Adar started talking to us about current events, creating a "classroom" atmosphere for Noam—background noise. We were talking, and Noam was asked to continue with the tasks. Slowly, before our eyes, Noam began to "squirm" in his chair, holding his head as if trying to keep it in one place—trying not to move—and struggled greatly to complete the task. After much effort, Noam finished the requested task. From that moment, Dr. Adar seemed to "ignore him." Very quickly, Noam left the chair and started jumping around the room. Then he noticed some fossils, shells, and similar items on the floor and began playing with them. At that point, Dr. Adar said loudly to us during the conversation: "And now I’m going to give Noam a shot with a very big needle." He continued, "Look at him… he’s not with us at all—he didn’t hear what I said, so he didn’t react." And I felt like I had discovered America—I suddenly understood what was happening to him in class. This is exactly how he disconnects from what’s happening. The noise in the classroom "drives him crazy," and he copes with it by these disconnections. It was a groundbreaking and emotional discovery. Only when we touched him and spoke to him did we manage to "wake" him from this disconnection.

To this day, I am grateful to Dr. Adi Adar for showing me, with my own eyes, what happens to Noam—because, after all, I’m not in the classroom.

After all this, Dr. Adar conducted a neurological examination and, of course, weighed and measured Noam’s height.

Then he asked Noam to compete with him in eating Bamba (inside which the doctor had placed the Ritalin pill). Noam, of course, took the bait (literally…) and won the competition.

After about an hour of waiting, Noam was asked to repeat the TOVA test—this time under the influence of the pill.

Then we returned to another conversation with the doctor, who informed us that the diagnosis was unequivocal: Noam has ADHD, and it is recommended to treat it with Ritalin. He also recommended emotional therapy, at our discretion.

He asked us to wait outside while they printed the diagnosis and recommendations for us.

When we finished, we received a bound and printed "book" with a picture of Noam on the cover… Surprised? So were we.

Only when I read it carefully did I realize that what I had received was actually just a preface. The book talks about Noam, the observations the doctor made about him, the questionnaires we submitted, the diagnosis, the treatment methods, and it also includes recommendations for the professionals working with Noam and, of course, recommendations for parents. The first words written there are: Patience, patience, patience!!!!!!

To be continued…

Have a wonderful day,

Ilana