My Son, Myself

This is a blog dedicated to exploring autism, what it means to experience it and how those who are on the spectrum are perceived and treated by our neurotypical fellows.

My eldest son was diagnosed as 'on the spectrum' (PDD-NOS) a couple of years ago (is it nearly three years already?!?).

At first we only thought he had a speech delay. This was picked up by his (ever vigilant) mother, not flagged by his pediatrician. We got him into speech therapy, this was pretty early on, he was not much older than two at the time.

It was his therapist who dropped the 'A-bomb' on us, casually mentioning to my wife (as she was picking up our son from his weekly appointment) that he was autistic... 'oh but I have to run, I have another appointment.'

That night my wife cried.

I was frankly incredulous.

We were bewildered and worried. How could this very loving, affectionate little boy, who is very bright and quite aware of his surroundings, be autistic?

So began our (largely self)-education. As we were to learn, none of those wonderful qualities noted above are incompatible with being on the spectrum.

We scheduled a screening exam with a pediatrician who specialized in autism. We would get this settled and teach his therapist to not toss off a diagnosis so lightly! Or so I was thinking in preparing for the exam.

I can still hear one of the pediatrician's first questions (paraphrasing): 'does he like spinning objects?'
And my thought: OMFG does he ever! Ceiling fans in particular... and so our education was broadened. We learned a lot during that screening and the truth of the matter started to sink in for me.

A referral was set up for Children's Hospital in Denver (fortunately for our family, one of the leading children's hospitals in the US and only a few hours drive away).

Our son met with some of the most caring and wonderful professionals we have had the privilege to work with. They were very thorough and thoughtful. He has been back yearly and is always treated with warmth, dignity and compassion.

None of that changed the diagnosis, however, but it did change his the care he was eligible to receive. Preschool was now a possibility (we could not afford it otherwise). And what a difference preschool has made!

Our son was fortunate to have a dedicated, smart and truly caring preschool teacher (for two years in a row, ages 3 and 4).

When he began we had doubts as to whether he would be ready to attend kindergarten with his age cohort. Now, due to the hard work of his teachers, himself (and yes, the parents too, whew) our son not only scores age appropriate on his use of language he is also attending kindergarten with his age group.

None of this is to say that he is 'normal' or 'cured.' He is not and never will be. But like his peers he can function appropriately given his age. How he manages to do so may involve different techniques depending on what skill we may be discussing. Learning about what my son's strengths and limitations are so that we can best support him (as we would any child) has been a process. It is through that process that I have also discovered some things about myself.