A little over a year ago, I began to have some serious concerns about my, then, 9 year old son. I butted heads with his teachers and eventually removed him from his conventional brick and mortar school. He was not thriving in any way. My gifted little boy, who could read just about anything you put in front of him, was failing every subject. He couldn't make a friend to save his life. He was as blunt as a 2 x 4 to the back of the head. He was drowning and it was the only thing I could think of to help him.
Within months of attending an online school, his teacher made a very difficult phone call to me. She was concerned that there was something much deeper going on. She offered to help me get him on the right track and suggested we consult his physician. His doctor is the most amazing woman, so easy to talk to. She reminded me of a similar conversation that we'd had about 2 years ago. He has issues with effective social skills. She asked me to follow up with her if that didn't remedy itself. At this point, she asked me to complete an assessment and return it to her. His teacher filled one out also. Rather than scheduling a follow up appointment, his doctor called me to refer us to the local Children's Hospital to help pinpoint what was going on. She immediately dismissed ADD or ADHD.
A few weeks went by before I heard from the referral nurse. And when I did, she proffered up a word that I wasn't anticipating: "Autism". But, he can talk and function. Isn't Autism where they are low functioning? I've met a few Autistics here and there and The Middle Son is really nothing like them. Not that he's "better" or anything. Just not what *I* thought of when I thought of Autism. She explained to me, very lightly, what "Asperger's Syndrome" is. High functioning Autism. She recommended we get to a therapist quickly. The earlier the diagnosis, the better. He's NINE. How is this just now on the table? He's worked with a therapist before, shouldn't this have been caught by now? Surely, he is not Autistic. I have to say, I was reeling. Confused, scared, shocked, worried, speechless, curious. I think I even laughed a little. But, we got appointments scheduled. Then we hung up. 15 minutes ago, life was totally different.
I began to research. And research some more. And then, there was some more. The more I read, the more I cried. Pretty sure that I sat here, for hours, with tears streaming down my face. Not tears of sadness. Relief. Realizations. MY KID ISN'T AN ASSHOLE! (Every Aspie parent has that initial fear that their child is just a jerk, at some point in the diagnostic process) Suddenly, 9 years all made perfect sense. These signs have been there for so long. But they got buried. Divorce, moving, anxiety about schools, 2 more siblings. We just kind of thought he was having adjustment issues. Well, no shit.
He has a wonderful therapist. She's fun, sharp as a tack, and relates to him. She doesn't dilute his therapy. Initially, we didn't mention the "A" word. Then, he hacked Disney's gaming site. Here he is, at 10, developing and creating video games. Learning some programming code. Taking to it like a duck to water. But ask the kid to tie his shoes. He can give you a detailed history of Godzilla. When I say "detailed" I mean EVERYTHING. A few weeks ago, I filled out another set of forms. If I had doubts about his diagnosis - I didn't after that. 28/30 spaces checked in the affirmative. Absurdly high vocabulary. Has anxiety walking down certain types of stairs. Can't stand denim jeans. Has no understanding whatsoever of the concept of other people's feelings. There's no filter on what comes out of his mouth. He can smell what neighbors 2 streets over are cooking. Things taste very strong. Sounds are really loud. Lights can be very bright. When that all gets to be too much - the punching ensues. Not directed at me or anyone else. Just himself.
So, just before Christmas, we got the official Welcome Kit to the world of Autism Spectrum Disorder. What a difference a year can make. All of a sudden, I want to make this place more understanding for him. But there's a balance I haven't quite figured out yet. He can't go through life thinking that he can just drift without consequence. Armed with an official diagnosis, I placed him back in a public school. We will see how it goes.
One day, my son was an average boy, on an average street, doing average things. The next day, he's Autistic. It knocks you back a few ticks. Thinking back to all the things you punished him for that were his condition breaking the surface. This is probably where having a schizophrenic biological mother comes in handy. She can't ever shut off her hallucinations, her eccentricities, or her symptoms. She is no more responsible for her conversations with the Planter's Peanut Guy than I am. That's something I learned a loooooooooooong time ago. Maybe it was a way to prepare me for raising an Aspie. I don't get offended anymore when he looks through me when I'm being emotional. I'm a lot more patient when he needs a few extra minutes to make it down the steps. He has taught me a lot about life in the last year. Slightly scared/nervous/excited/proud to see where it goes from here.
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