I'm sure as time goes by, I'll go into more details about "the journey".....some memories are still too painful to put into words, so for now they will remain locked away in the corners of my heart. Looking back, it's as if I'm watching a movie in my mind.....watching as someone else goes through the hell and heartache that we did. Then I have to mentally "pinch" myself and say -- yes, that was our life...we really went through all of that. It seems like it was so long ago....the day we began this journey.
It's hard to put into words what it was like for those who've never experienced something like this.....it's sort of like driving on black ice.....no matter how careful you are, how many precautions you take....your vehicle still hits the ice and begins to spin out of control. No matter how tightly you grip the wheel -- you continue to spin.....helpless and scared until you crash. But in this case, with Autism.....you hit the ice and just continue to spin.....and spin...and spin....
Watching our son regress after the duplicate immunizations was sort of like spinning out on black ice.....I was helpless and scared.....no matter what I did, I couldn't stop this -- and I was angry at the doctor for ignoring our concerns -- I knew that something was wrong, but he wouldn't listen. I used to wonder -- what if he would have listened -- would it have made any difference? Yes, I was angry at the doctor for his "error"...I wanted him to pay for his "mistake", but I knew in my heart that nothing would change this -- nothing would fix it -- there was no cure. Trust me, that was a bitter pill to swallow. I was also angry at myself -- for being a new parent and trusting that the doctor knew more than I did -- perhaps if I would have stopped the nurse from taking him into the other room, this might not have happened. For a long time I blamed myself -- the guilt crushed my soul.
The first year was nothing short of a nightmare.....our son went from being the sweet playful child we knew, to this wild out of control arm-flapping little creature. He no longer spoke, instead he just grunted and screamed.....and when he was really frustrated, he would hit, kick, bite and throw things. The sparkle in his eyes was gone -- instead there was a blank stare. I used to look at him and wonder "where did my little boy go?" We used to call him "Taz"....because he was like the Tasmanian Devil in those old cartoons.....just wildly spinning from room to room, leaving a path of destruction wherever he went.
Shortly after diagnosis, we received what I now consider a huge blessing.....I can't imagine where we would be now if things wouldn't have happened the way they did. There is a school in our area for special needs children. LTC has a long waiting list, but one therapist pulled a few strings and helped to get our son enrolled in their "Head Start" program. What happened after that is nothing short of a miracle. The staff at LTC were wonderful -- they taught our son sign language, used PEC cards as visual cues to help with re-developing his verbal skills, created schedules and all sorts of other things. They took me under their wings and taught me things that I could do and use at home to help our son. I made my own PEC cards and schedules.....I taught myself sign language....and we converted our den into a classroom.
There were still meltdowns (several times a day)....he would still hit, kick, bite, etc but at least we had a way to attempt to communicate.....and we were headed in the right direction. We had a support network through LTC, and we didn't feel quite so lost and alone.
More to follow.....
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