Students

Lilian can stay in school

A pup to ward off PTSD

For Lilian te Wierik, studying is a constant battle. That’s because she has PTSD. But as of last week, she has someone to help her: service dog in training Maia.
Door Christien Boomsma / Video Rianne Aalbers
17 September om 11:37 uur.
Laatst gewijzigd op 18 September 2024
om 16:28 uur.
September 17 at 11:37 AM.
Last modified on September 18, 2024
at 16:28 PM.

She may only weigh 7.5 kilos and only stand 40 centimetres tall, and jump around like a furry bouncy ball. When you greet her, she’ll do anything she can to get her little teeth around her fingers, all while furiously wagging her tail. But don’t underestimate her. 

Goldendoodle Maia may only be five months old, but she’s already made a huge difference in the life of European cultures and languages student Lilian te Wierik. She is a service dog in training, and has been accompanying Lilian to class since last week. There, she occupies a small, foldable crate next to her chair. Lilian doesn’t even really have to look at her to feel her comforting energy. ‘I already feel calmer’, she says.

Panic attacks

She needs it, too, because studying is hard for Lilian. She has PTSD, which hasn’t made her life easy. She doesn’t want to say what caused it. ‘That’s not important.’ 

What is important is the fact that it still affects her life significantly. It was especially intense a few years ago. ‘I had panic attacks, nightmares. I was easily startled and either withdrew from people entirely or got really angry.’

The dog can make someone feel better by licking them

Things are better now, but the issues can always resurface. When she gets too stressed out, she might get anxiety attacks or even start to disassociate. When that happens, she completely closes herself off to the outside world and retreats into her fears.

Her issues started in elementary school. ‘I was going through another development. I had trouble reading and couldn’t really make friends.’ She was bullied at no fewer than three different schools, and the pattern continued when she started high school. ‘People said mean things about the way I looked’, she says. Gym class eventually became so hard for her that the school excused her from attending them. ‘It was truly horrible.’

Lifeline

She fell into a deep depression. She tried various treatments, and was even admitted for a while. When she finally did go to university, it turned out to be much harder than she’d thought. Late last year, it was looking like she wouldn’t be able to finish her studies, since there are some things, such as giving a presentation in front of the rest of the class, she simply isn’t able to do.

She hopes Maia will be able to change this. ‘None of my previous treatments had the desired effect’, she says. ‘Does that mean I’m therapy resistant? Are there no more treatments for me? I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

When she found out about service dogs, she decided she wanted one. ‘A service dog can jump on your bed when you’re having a nightmare, for example, to calm you down. Or if someone is dissociating, she can touch or lick them to let them know she’s there. That can make someone feel better.’

The dog can prevent someone from dissociating all the way. The dog’s attention is like a lifeline for the person who’s locked into their own sense of panic. 

Not covered

Lilian thinks this could work for her as well, and that Maia can offer a way out of her panic if she becomes overwhelmed in class or somewhere else. 

Unfortunately, health insurance doesn’t cover these kinds of service dogs. ‘There supposedly isn’t enough scientific evidence that it works’, she says. 

There supposedly isn’t enough scientific evidence that a service dog works

The municipality also wasn’t willing to cough up the 25,000 euros a trained service dog normally costs. ‘Even if you go through unofficial channels, where you work with a trainer yourself, it still costs 10,000 euros. And, depending on the breed, the dog itself will cost at least 2,000.’ 

She didn’t have that kind of money. So, nearly a year ago, she started a crowdfunding campaign to get at least part of the money. 

She raised approximately 1,800 of the 6,000 she needed, but it was enough to get started. She found a breeder and made an appointment with a dog trainer. In May, she was finally able to pick up Maia. ‘She’s a really good fit. She’s really interested in people, and she’s curious and incredibly smart.’

No understanding

In the meantime, however, she was having trouble with her studies. Because of her anxiety attacks, it was impossible for her to do a presentation in front of the class. ‘I tried once or twice’, she says. ‘But I get really sweaty hands, my heart starts beating wildly… The same problems other people might have too, just really extreme.’ She completely freezes and wants to flee the situation. 

People weren’t particularly understanding about her situation. ‘Many lecturers think doing a presentation is something you can just learn’, she says. Students she did group projects with got annoyed, because her poor performance reflected on them.

I’m less afraid to speak up

She went to the exam committee to ask for an exemption, but they referred her back to her lecturers. The lecturers would have to decide if an exception could be made for their course and what kind of assignment she had to do to make up for it. And so she had to tell her whole story to every single lecturer, without knowing whether they would grant her request.

She went to the Board of Appeal for Examinations (CBE), which confirmed that the exam committee wasn’t allowed to refer her back to her lecturers. But an attempt to solve the issue together failed, after which the CBE sent the exam committee back to the drawing board. As a result, Lilian has to hand over a list of courses every semester, so the exam committee and the course coordinator could figure out if adjustments could be made for her.

She wasn’t particularly happy with the solution, because she still doesn’t know if there’s an alternative exam method available for her.

All the difference

But Maia has become the light of her life. She spent the summer training hard with her pup, under the guidance of the dog trainer that comes by every week. ‘She’s really good at touch’, says Lilian. At her command, Maia runs up and touches Lilian’s outstretched hand with her nose.

Later, when she’s older, she’ll be trained to anticipate Lilian’s behaviour. Maia will have to learn to recognise the signals of stress in Lilian and respond to them by either licking her or touching her with her nose.

Right now, she spends most of her time sleeping next to Lilian’s chair, since puppies need a lot of sleep. When she wakes up, she gets a treat to distract herself. ‘The first few times, the other students didn’t even notice she was there.’  

But the pup is already making a difference. ‘I have a hard time navigating crowded places, like train stations’, Lilian says. ‘Maia will unerringly lead me to a quieter spot.’ She’s also noticed that she’s calmer in class and has an easier time focusing. ‘I’m less afraid to speak up.’

All in all, Lilian says cautiously, because she doesn’t want to jump the gun, it’s a ‘hopeful start’. ‘I think it’s going to be okay’, she says. ‘I still don’t know if I’ll be able to graduate. But I do have more faith in what the future might bring.’

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