Autism Watch: 2007

Posts Tagged ‘clonidine

Did you just hear that high-pitched scream? The kind that makes you wish you were only hearing nails on a chalkboard? The kind that makes dogs howl and cower under a bed? The kind that you think “wow, my kid’s tantrums don’t look so bad now.” That’s what just occurred here. We haven’t seen them this bad in a few weeks, and I didn’t miss them. Nope, not a bit. In fact, for a second, I was thinking “how did I ever deal with this all day every day?” Then he sat up with monstrous strength unknown to small children, and I remembered that this is why we decided to put him on medication. I couldn’t deal with it all day, every day, and neither could he.

I don’t know what is wrong that caused this. Well, I do know what caused his anger, but for it to get to that level? Who knows. On a ‘normal’ day anymore, finding his Gameboy case on a shelf other than where he put it would cause some annoyance and yelling, but not the “Curse you, Bubba, curse you!” that it caused today. This week, he’s out of school, had some Easter candy (though none since Tuesday) and there’s been a few dietary infractions…but this seems extreme for that. Then again, who knows. Maybe the dyes are still in his system from the Easter candy he ate on Saturday/Sunday. Yep, who am I kidding, I helped bring this on.

Right now, he’s calm…after he exploded, the extreme sadness and sobbing kicked in. The heartwrenching, saddening sobs that make you wish for anything that could stop your little one from feeling that sad. That out of control. That much hate. (And hate it was, based on what he was yelling.) There’s gotta be more that can be done, but we’ve tried behavioral therapy…a lot of it. At one point, we were told that without medication, he may never truly get a grip on it. Now that scares me, though I have hope.

During Autism Awareness month, I truly hope not just the non-verbal, handflapping children are in the spotlight. Not that they shouldn’t be, don’t get me wrong, but people need to see ALL types of autism. They need to see the aggression of little kids with strength of someone twice their size, hear the venom coming out of their mouths, and hear a list of what little is available to help. We can’t let the public think that there’s two kinds of autism: non-verbal, and Asperger’s. They need to realize that there’s a spectrum, and this population of kids like mine exist, in big numbers. They aren’t spoiled. They aren’t products of bad parenting. They aren’t lacking self-control..well, they are, but not of their own or anyone’s choosing.

So now he sits eating a milk-free brownie. My older ds is astounded by his brother’s complete and utter lack of an attention span anymore, and I am in a way, too. He’s never had a long one, but this week, he’s bounced from watching Wonder Pets, spreading Pokemon all over my bedroom, spreading stuffed animals (his friends) all over his room, starting to make a book, playing a round of Guitar Hero, and back to Wonder Pets…all in about 8.4 minutes. How is he not exhausted, but everyone in his wake is?

Life with autism is unpredictable. As the saying goes, “If you’ve seen one person with autism, you’ve seen one person with autism.” They’re all so different. Yet, ironically, they’re each predictable in their ‘issues,’ if you will. I know my son will get up and want his pancakes heated on a plate, stacked, then cut in two directions, then slathered in syrup. He wants his ‘coffee’ (chocolate almond milk) in his white cup with the blue lid, and placed at his chair. From there, on a non-school day, all bets are off, but I know it’ll be a whirlwind of activities, many odd, in a short period of time. I know if we talk quietly so as not to interrupt him, he’ll accuse us of talking about him. I know that if a show he’s Tivo’d is deleted, he’ll scream and yell that he’s going to beat up the stupidhead that did it. I know that when his sister gets a phonecall and he doesn’t, he’ll flip out that he has no friends, and we’ll have to limit his talking about no friends to three minutes, or we could fall asleep to that same discussion ten hours later and he’d barely notice, only to have to start the conversation over, verbatim, if our snoring disrupts. And I know that when he falls asleep at night, finally, and only after his clonidine helps, I’ll cuddle him and hug him and tell him he’s the sweetest boy in the world.

Advertisements

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 34 other followers

Twitter Updates


Advertisements