Always kiss your children goodnight - even if they're already asleep. ~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
That is all I can say. Wow.
I am blown away.
Today, we took our Little Man to Children’s Hospital for a consult with their Biochemical Genetics-Metabolic Disease Section. Long story short, it seems we are simply ruling out any type of metabolic disorder that contributes to, or exacerbates the effects of Autism. They really do not expect that is the case with our son, but, that is not the point of this post. This post is about the Little Man himself.
We spent two hours cooped up in a small examination room, armed only with an iPod touch, a 3DS, and a pencil and paper. Did I ever mention that one of the effects of Autism in this Little Man is that, when he is awake, he is in almost constant motion? He usually eats, reads, draws, watches TV and uses the computer all while standing and moving back and forth, or jumping, or spinning – and always gabbing away. Not necessarily an ideal demeanor for a 14 foot by 8 foot exam room crowded with medical instruments.
We followed those two hours with a couple of urine samples, a longer period of waiting, and then the coup de grace – Blood work! Not one, or two, or three, or four vials of blood – but five vials of blood. Add to that a problem with the syringe and you have all the makings of a cataclysmic Meltdown o’ Rama. Imagine the confusion he must have felt, as I put him on my lap and held him in a hug a bear would have had trouble achieving as two strangers begin going at the arm - one holding the arm firm, the other poking at it with a sharp object. I really can not imagine how he felt and I really wish his condition allowed me to talk him through it.
He was obviously upset at the process. But I held his cheek to mine and soothed him the best way I knew how -- singing the Alphabet Song, and, when they said they were almost done, I counted down from 10 to 1 a few times. In those moments today, I felt a bond with him. I do not know what to call it. The best I can say is that I felt that although he may not have understood what was being done to him, he understood that his mother and I were trying to help him. And that he was comforted by that fact.
Under circumstances that could have led to a catastrophic distrust of us, and of doctors and hospitals, under circumstances that could have sent him into an uncontrollable meltdown, he rolled down his sleeves and skipped happily away – hand in hand with mom and dad.
I truly do not know if he understands or can appreciate what pride is, or how proud I am of him. But he doesn’t need to know. I AM extremely proud of him.