Liam

Week 3-Autism Pride Day *HeartRate1* 1073 Words

Liam


I love my last born grandson, Liam, who was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old. He will be twelve on the last day of this month. He is my most favorite grandchild. Yes, Grammy is not supposed to have a favorite. However, through the years I have whispered 'you are my favorite' to each one of the ten, three girls and seven boys. I had my daughter test my theory that each child felt they were my favorite. When asked in private, each one made the same nod and confession that he or she was the anointed one. Heretofore, my favorite one was my first-born grandchild. She is a college graduate with a master’s degree from the University of Arizona, a highly respected university. She is a broadcast engineer for Fox Sports Network located in Chandler Arizona. It is a position almost one hundred percent made up of males. There is one other woman on the broadcast team. She received an individual Daytime Emmy award for producing the World Cup Championship soccer game last year.



She was conceived from a date rape. Her grandfather dared to suggest she be aborted despite knowing and having contact with the biological father. A divorce between Grammy and Grandpa occurred for that reason. I am digressing, yet pointing out how severely those surrounding the autistic person can be negatively affected.



I will call my grandson Robbie. He was diagnosed at three years of age. His mother, my daughter, suspected something was different about him from infancy. He was quick to learn hundreds of facts by age three. He never looked anyone directly in the eye. At first he rarely blinked his eyes. He had a few not-so-severe temper tantrums which would develop into meltdowns after age four.



Robbie attended preschool for four days. In that time, he attempted to escape the classroom at least half a dozen times. He seemed happy to socialize with the other kids, but his way of communicating was to hug and pat them on the back. He learned that at home from all who love him. Patting and hugging were against the rules. On the third and fourth days, they called in a substitute assigned exclusively to Robbie who was sequestered from the other kids and a bit vocal about the segregation.



For four consecutive days his mom was contacted at her job with a well know national insurance and travel company. Anyone working in telephone customer service knows how poorly leaving early and unexpectedly was frowned upon. She eventually lost her job over it because she had left early on that many consecutive days for a family member. She was at her job less than a year, without the required number of hours worked, to qualify for family medical leave (FMLA) protection.



Fast forward to the start of kindergarten. The school is overcrowded. One oddity is principal and other offices, including the nurse’s office sit directly on the grounds. The classrooms were built about fifteen feet below ground. To reach the classrooms, the students need to climb down steep steps made of cement and brick. Robbie had a difficult time going down and upstairs. His mom did a large bit of worrying over this. The kindergarten teacher, aware of Robbie’s condition, promised her that she would meet him where he was dropped of at the parking lot and lead him by her hand to the classroom.



That did not happen.



During that first week of school, Robbie spent most hours of his day in the school nurse’s office. One thing that regresses is toilet training. He had little control over his bowels and would go to the nurse to be taken care of. He would be told to leave the classroom, walk alone to the stairs, then climb up and find the nurse’s office. This was a huge and dangerous feat for him. Spending hundreds of dollars getting him ready for school including nice school clothes, supplies, a tablet for electronic instruction, a calculator, and various notebooks, etc. was all for naught. His fifth day of kindergarten was his last.



I have observed the tremendous responsibility it is to care for an autistic child. As different as people are, so are people with autism. The spectrum is an expression you often hear for people are under the umbrella called autism. They are said to be ‘on the spectrum.’ The severity of symptoms dictates where a person falls on it.



Some ‘auties,’ which is what many parents call their autistic offspring, are incredibly adept at memorizing numbers, dates, and figures, like Robbie. Others have a difficult, sometimes impossible time interacting appropriately. Their brains are “wired” differently. Robbie has trouble relating behavior to consequences. He will tell the truth about someone pointing out inconsistencies. He does not understand the nuances of social interaction, therefore he can be a source of social faux pas. You can’t fool him.



Once it was helpful, and still is to a certain extent, to use distraction to keep him calm. I played for hours in a sandbox long after most children abandoned that childhood rite of passage. I help homeschool him. The internet has done a lot of work for me. His vocabulary at eleven years old is that of a high school sophomore. He loves to write plays and videotape them filling the jobs as the writer, the actor, and the producer. He is a computer genius. When I am stuck, I call on him to fix my computer problem. He is of what is named Generation Alpha, those born after 2010. They are immersed in a technological world from birth. He had his first “toy” computer at two years old.



Some ‘auties,’ which is what many parents call their autistic offspring, are incredibly adept at memorizing numbers, dates, and figures, like Robbie. Others have a difficult, sometimes impossible time interacting appropriately. Their brains are “wired” differently. Robbie has trouble relating behavior to consequences. He will tell the truth about someone pointing out inconsistencies. He does not understand the nuances of social interaction, therefore he can be a source of social faux pas. You can’t fool him.



Once it was helpful, and still is to a certain extent, to use distraction to keep him calm. I played for hours in a sandbox long after most children abandoned that childhood rite of passage. I help homeschool him. The internet has done a lot of work for me. His vocabulary at eleven years old is that of a high school sophomore. He loves to write plays and videotape them filling the jobs as the writer, the actor, and the producer. He is a computer genius. When I am stuck, I call on him to fix my computer problem. He is of what is named Generation Alpha, those born after 2010. They are immersed in a technological world from birth. He had his first “toy” computer at two years old.



Technology, however, is here during an age of huge uncertainty. Barring a major war or other natural disaster, cyber theft, or other events to sabotage our nation, they have a bright future. They can circumvent life’s complexities.



This brings me back to Robbie. He will be twelve in ten days. It is said it gets easier as a child transitions to adolescence. I live with Robbie and his mom and dad. I see firsthand the difficulties and the rewards of having an autistic child. I am happy they have a National Autistic Awareness Day. More diagnoses of autism are showing up because there is an increased awareness of the symptoms and mannerisms of children and young people. It can be diagnosed beginning in adulthood as well. Another reason there is an increased number of people reported to have autism is a once separately named Asperger’s Syndrome is included with autism. There is currently no cure, only a guess of the cause. I hope a cure is found, maybe for doing something for those already growing up or as adults. I take pride in my grandson, Robbie. To save another child from experiencing autism and relieve the exhaustion a parent experiences will be my wish, a miracle come true.