Month: September 2020

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Autism and Two Very Different Doctor Visits

Autism and Two Very Different Doctor Visits

We waited several months for our appointment with a specialist for Casey. Somehow, in the days before the internet, my mom found a pediatric neurologist who specialized in autism. In 1992, there weren’t many doctors who had even heard of Autism. Before we went to this appointment, we strongly suspected autism, thanks to a TV show Mom saw and a book that show recommended.

It was a two hour drive. Casey always has been easy to travel with so the drive was no big deal. The waiting room was full of toys and she happily ran off to explore while I filled out paperwork. Then… The nurse called her name and all hell broke loose.

She refused to leave the toys. She kicked. She screamed. She tried to beat her head on the floor. I was due to have Rob in just a few weeks and couldn’t easily get a hold on her. The nurse told Casey she could take a toy with her and she calmed down enough to choose one. I was so embarassed (now, 28 years later, it wouldn’t faze me. πŸ™‚ ).

Casey refused to get weighed. She wouldn’t stand for her height. She turned away for a temp check. The nurse could have been a picture on the wall for all the attention Casey paid her. She was focused on the toy and that was that. Nothing else mattered.

When the doctor came in, she never looked up. He said her name. She ignored him. He got down on the floor with her. She turned her back. He reached around her to play with the toy. She moved to a corner with the toy. He asked her what color something was – anything to engage with her. Nope. Nothing. She knew he was there, but he had nothing she wanted so she didn’t care.

He asked me several questions and with each one, I knew for sure she had autism. When he asked what I thought was going on, I simply said, “Autism.” And he agreed. In all honesty, I didn’t think much about it. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t in pain. She was still my sweet little girl. I had no clue what our lives would become within the next year.

The meltdowns started in earnest. Almost every day. Nothing I could do would calm her down. Plus I had baby Robbie and toddler Mandy. Life was exhausting. I rarely thought farther in the future than the next day. She was in preschool all day with speech and OT. At that point, she had a few meltdowns at school – most were at home. (I think she held it together as long as she could and then just had to let go).

She had a few scripted sentences she used when she wanted something. Few words, except Mandy, Robbie, cookie, potty and drink, were spontaneous. She sang entire songs – always with perfect pitch… Knew her ABC’s, could count beyond 100, knew more colors than I did. But she couldn’t say Mommy when she looked at me.

Rob was 7 before he saw the neurologist officially. He went to one of Casey’s appointments. He said hi to the doctor. He said mommy when the doctor pointed to me. He sat quietly and shared his toy with the doctor. He looked out the window. But, he couldn’t answer simple questions. He had major sensory issues. He rarely talked. He liked his routine. He was completely opposite of her. He got the same diagnosis.

Fast forward to last week. I took them for their annual check up with their neurologist. Casey jumped on the scale, insisted the nurse check her height and held her arm out for BP check. While Rob wasn’t as excited as she was for all of that, he did everything they asked.

When the doctor came in, they both looked at him and said hi. They were both able to answer several of his questions on their own. Casey told him what crafts she liked to do and that we wouldn’t have a fair this year. Rob told him he went swimming and Bob is his friend. The doctor was so impressed with how well they are doing – especially with so many things changed this year! He said many of his patients were having a rough time, but I told him they have just accepted the changes. (Not always happily, but who has??? πŸ™‚ )

I thought of all of this driving home the other day. We can even stop for lunch and go shopping after their appointment. Even a few years ago, that wouldn’t have been easy to do without someone else with us. Casey did give me a scare in one store, but no meltdowns, no anxiety yelling. Just shopping for coloring books and blocks. Like a typical family.

I know some of you might be going through a terrible time right now. You may be living with things I never had to. But, please, never stop hoping and never stop believing your child will grow and change. People that knew Casey when she was in elementary school are shocked to see her now. Keep pushing. Keep believing. Keep your faith!

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Perceptions of My Life as an Autism Mom

I was at an event a while ago and two different people made comments about the life I live. I didn’t think much about it while I was there, but driving home, I wondered about their observations. One is a close friend, the other an acquaintance. I started thinking about the perceptions people have about me and my life.

One perception people have about my life is that it’s never quiet. Ok – I’ll give them that one. There are quiet times in my house, but only when the kids are not here or are asleep. If it’s too quiet when they are here, I go see what they are up to. But – doesn’t every parent do that? And how many homes are quiet when the kids are home? Why do people think my house would be any different than theirs?

They may hear kids talking in their home. I do, too. Often a little louder and not as understandable as most people, but talking just the same. They may hear toys. Yep, got that, too, since Elmo and Casey’s toy piano can be heard often. They may hear music or movies. Yep – the same movies over and over again. But Casey’s music changes, depending on her mood.

Another perception is that I never get any sleep. When the kids were younger, this was true and, at times, we still have rough nights around here. (crazy weather and full moons are not my friends!) I finally found the right combination of meds for Rob to help him sleep, so most of the time, we all sleep well. (Knock on wood! 😊)

Here’s a good one.Β  Β People think I’ve got the patience of a saint.Β  πŸ™‚Β  πŸ™‚Β  And I do – with my kids, with people who have special needs.Β  But – if you are rude or obnoxious…Β  hmm… nope.Β  My patience stays with those who need it.Β  πŸ™‚Β  I will be nice as long as I can, then all bets are off!

Honestly, the perception that bothers me the most is that we need pity. I get why people might think this, but really, it just irritates me to no end.

Why would anyone feel sorry for us? Casey and Rob are happy. They have everything they need and most things they want. (I say that because right now, they want to ride rides at our county fair, which has been canceled. Thank you, covid… Now go away!) They love going for walks, buying coloring books and socks, playing cards and construction paper.

Do they have struggles? Sure – but we don’t need anyone’s pity. We need compassion and understanding. Every family has struggles – some are just really well hidden and ours are loud and more obvious at times. 😊

Yes, my life is different than most people. It’s different than my autism mom friends. But that’s ok. Being different keeps life interesting and fun. Yes, I do feel lonely at times and, yes, I definitely get tired of helping with baths. Yep – get tired of worrying about the future. Yep – get tired of always needing someone to be with Casey and Rob.

But – I also get to spend evenings on the patio with them, listening to giggles. I still get to believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny. I get to celebrate every… single… holiday. I get to have supper with them every night and tuck them in bed. (Usually more than once! 😊)

Instead of just assuming what my life is like, ask questions. I don’t mind and would much rather someone ask than not. The only way to make the world more accepting of Autism is to get information out and spread it around! That’s why we go places. Some times, our days out don’t go as well as I would like, but that’s okay. I can have a good cry (either on sadness or anger) and move on.

Our lives are different than yours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 😊

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Autism and Constant Supervision

Autism and Constant Supervision

Since I went back to school a few weeks ago, I’ve needed help with Casey and Rob for about an hour in the morning before they can go to Hopewell. My parents, Mandy and Bob (Rob’s favorite staff person) are all helping. This week, a conflict has come up and I have no one to help one day. I stressed about it and asked who I could think of if they could help, but finally came to the conclusion that I would just have to go into school late. I am lucky and grateful that I can do that, but it just reminds me again that I still need a “babysitter” for my adult children.

Never being able to leave them alone is not something you think about when they are little – no one leaves little children alone. And you are too busy to think about the future. Then, suddenly, they are teenagers or adults…. and you still need someone to be with them all the time. Forever.

Before anyone misunderstands, I do know how lucky I am. Casey and Rob don’t play with knives or matches or the stove. They don’t eat or drink things they shouldn’t. They don’t bother medicines. They don’t leave the yard or wander away at night. I am able to take a shower without worrying. Or go outside for a few minutes. Many, many autism families can’t do any of this. They have to keep an eye on their child all of the time – no breaks for the bathroom or a shower. I feel for them. It’s a tough life – you love this person so much, but at the same times, you desperately need two minutes to yourself.

But – sometimes…. I want to be able to go with my friends without worrying about who will stay with them. I want to sit by a campfire without needing to go check on them every few minutes. I want to be able to get groceries or run errands without their “help.” πŸ™‚ They have come so far since they were little and it was nearly impossible to take them to the store by myself. (Casey had meltdowns and Rob had sensory overload – and they both liked to dart off.) We go places all the time now and I love it, but …. I just never thought I would need a babysitter for my adult children.

I never dreamed that I would be stressing over an hour on a weekday morning when they were adults. Sometimes, the reality of our situation slaps me in the face. As amazing as they are and the amazing things they learn to do every day still doesn’t make it safe for them to be alone. I doubt either would leave the house in the event of a fire (we have talked about it – many times – that they are to go to the garage when the smoke detectors go off, but they don’t even acknowledge that it is beeping). They count on someone else to keep them safe. Neither will use the phone to call for help.

I always laugh when someone tells me to just “find someone” to stay with them. Really? Like I’m going to leave my communication- challenged children with strangers? I don’t trust easily and have been burnt by some people I did trust. So, until I know someone really well, they don’t spend time alone with my kids. Period. I even have a hard time when new staff starts at Hopewell. I can’t see them interact with Casey and Rob and I can’t see what they think of the new person. So – I just don’t trust. I hate being like this, but I don’t plan on stopping.

I’ll admit – there are times I’d like to go some place and I just choose not to go instead of asking someone to stay with the kids. I know they need to learn to be with other people and I know I need time away, but I hate asking for help for “fun” things when I need help for important things, like work. I just get tired of needing help. It’s just not something I ever thought I would have to do when my kids were adults. Even when they were both diagnosed with autism, adulthood wasn’t something I had time to think about much. The here and now was always more important than the future.

But, see – the scariest part of them always needing supervision is the future. The future when I can’t take care of them anymore. The future where I have to trust someone else to watch them constantly. Mandy and Cory always tell me not to worry – that Casey and Rob will always have them and I love them for that, but they need their own lives, too. I don’t let myself dwell on the future much as, sometimes, those thoughts are guaranteed to bring on a crying fit.

So we’ll go on, as we have been. Doing things together and taking an extra person when I may need more than one set of eyes. (Don’t let their size fool you – Casey and Rob are fast!!) Even going to the bathroom when we are out is hard – I can’t assume they will stand and wait for me. Some days, they would. The next time – that’s a big no! See? Unless you have a child with autism, you wouldn’t think about not being able to go to the bathroom if you are not at home. It’s something we all live with.

I hope each of you has someone you can trust to be with your kids when you need a break. Take breaks and take care of yourself or you will burn out. Then who will take care of your child with autism? Just like when you are on a plane – put your oxygen mask on first, so you can help others. πŸ™‚

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30+ Years of Autism and I’m Still Learning

30 + Years of Autism & I’m Still Learning

For more than 30 years, autism has been front and center in our lives. I find it hilarious that some people believe that makes me an “expert.” For one, neither of my kids are alike and another… No one is an autism expert. There are many people with a vast knowledge of autism – and you are the best expert about your child! Never doubt that!

A few weeks ago, the kids and I went on a boat with friends. Casey was scared to get on the inflatable that is pulled behind the boat, but with encouragement, she finally tried. Rob wouldn’t even attempt it and I was so surprised, as I thought he would be the one to jump on without a thought. After Casey rode, I tried and tried to get him to at least walk back and look at it, but he wouldn’t. Finally, I said, “Just take your shoes off and try, buddy!” and he kicked his shoes off, stuffed his socks in his shoes and was ready to get on!

What the heck? Then it dawned on me – he never, ever gets his shoes wet. When we go kayaking, he steps into the kayak without getting in the water. When we go wading, he always takes his shoes off. And he wasn’t able to tell me that’s why he didn’t want to do it – he didn’t realize he could take his shoes off. Casey and I were barefoot, but we were wearing flip flops – he didn’t understand that it was okay for him to take his shoes off and he wasn’t able to tell me that’s why he wouldn’t get on. I simply never thought about it.

Last week, I went into Casey’s room to pull her sheets off of her bed and stepped in water! Her AC had been leaking, but she didn’t see any reason to tell me. Her carpet was soaked and she had to have stepped in it to turn the AC on and off. But, thanks to autism, she didn’t even think about telling me. I forget so often that things that are important to me (like water in the carpet!) mean nothing to them. She wasn’t able to tell me or even think that it was something that I might need to know. Thankfully, the carpet dried faster than I thought and I reminded her several times that she needed to tell me when things weren’t right. (She can certainly let me know when her iPad isn’t working!)

Rob had a problem the other day and he was acting completely out of character. If I was an autism expert, I would have stopped and tried longer to find out what was going on, but as a frustrated parent, I didn’t handle it as well as I should have. When I finally had all of the facts from the situation, I apologized to him several times. I’ll admit – as much as I try to think about every possible trigger when things happen, some times, I’m tired and that doesn’t happen.

Every day, Casey and Rob prove to me that as well as I know them, autism is an ever-changing disability that will never be fully understood by me – maybe even not by them. I don’t think they always know why they do the things they do, but only that they need to do it. Their OCD causes both of them to have rituals to feel safer – she needs to jump into doors and tap things three times. He has to have all of the windows open – except the one in the craft room always has to be closed – or all of them closed and locked. I don’t understand why, but it’s really not a big deal and helps him feel better.

I don’t know why both of them are hypo-sensitive to touch, but he can’t wear certain clothes. To my way of thinking, if your skin isn’t sensitive enough to notice a cut or burn, why can it feel the differences in shirts? He will burn himself in the shower if he turns the water on himself because he doesn’t notice the how hot the water is – but he can’t wear long sleeves because they hurt? I just don’t get it.

I don’t know why some nights, he can go to sleep easily and other nights, he is up most of the night. Usually, if she has a sleepless night, I can pinpoint why, but not him. Water is soothing to him while she barely notices it. Just like everyone else, they have their own preferences and we have to learn to separate what is “autism” related and what is just their personalities. It’s not always easy, either. Every day, I learn more about Casey and Rob.

We have rough days – days that I think autism just plain sucks. Days that I’m so tired I can’t think straight, let alone try to figure out why they do things they do. There are days that I let chores slip and that I don’t think about the future. Let yourself have those days, too. You can’t be “on” all of the time. You will exhaust yourself – and who will take care of your child, then?

Never doubt you are the expert on your child. Doctors and others may know a lot about autism, but no one knows your child like you do. Just remember – while you are your child’s expert, you will never stop learning about autism. That’s the thing about autism – it seems as soon as you solve one mystery, another one will pop up. It keeps life exciting! (I choose to look at it that way so it doesn’t drive me crazy! πŸ™‚ )

Please, though – share your knowledge and experiences with other autism families. What worked for you may not work for them, but you never know. And maybe only part of your solution will help, but often, just knowing other families have gone through the same things, will help. We will all keep learning together to make the best lives for our families. πŸ™‚