Suspending Disbelief
We first suspected, well I say we but really I mean my wife. She first suspected there might be something wrong with Zac when he was almost a year old. Tania kept saying how she thought he had “regressed” and I kept saying “some kids don’t talk until they’re almost 2 dear.” We played it by ear for a while waiting for Zac to start talking but that day never seemed to come. One day my wife asks me if I could go to a meeting at a school with Zac until she gets there. Some people are going to assess Zac to see if he’s autistic.
I was furious. “What the hell? There’s nothing wrong with my son. He’s just taking his own time.” Though I was pissed-off deep inside I knew it was the right thing to do. So, about a week later, I picked my son up from my in-laws and drove him to a local school. We went inside one of the resource buildings and met with a special education instructor, a school nurse and a representative from an advocacy agency. We talked. I answered some questions and they played with Zac with different toys. After a bit my wife came in and sat down with us while they continued to play with my son. After about another 20 minutes of playing the 3 began to compare notes and write down scores then before they even told us he was autistic they started discussing treatment options with us. I listened politely just buying my time until we got out of there.
“These people are quacks,” I thought. “Not one degree among them and they’re passing judgement on my beautiful little boy. Dooming him to a life as an outcast?” I wasn’t buying it and I told my wife so. “No way. They’re full of crap. I want someone who knows what they’re doing to take a look not a teacher and a school nurse.”
So a couple days later my wife called the advocacy group and they gave us the information for the University of California Davis Mind Institute in Sacramento. Early one morning in November we drove the 100 miles to Sacramento with my 2 year old son to the UC Davis Medical Center and the Mind Institute. Like normal we arrived early. We waited in the parking lot eating crackers and trying to nap until the time of our appointment. Eventually we went in and waited in the play area until they were ready for us. We went into the room and were only in there about 15 minutes when the doctors left. A few minutes later they came back and began going over the report. Another clinician had been watching on CCTV and through a one way mirror. Zac was indeed autistic. The clinicians spent some time going over what autism was and the new ways it was being treated. I sat there in the chair numb from head to toe. I’d heard but I hadn’t heard. I was denying everything to myself.
After we left we drove home in relative silence until just a few miles from our house. The whole way I’d been thinking about the days ordeal. I knew I had to do what was best for my little boy and that would require me to suspend my disbelief and accept what I couldn’t to be the truth. As we neared home we began to talk about our options. My wife called the advocacy group and scheduled a meeting to get Zac into a school and get us into their program.
It’s hard to accept the truth sometimes. If you suspect your child is autistic, if they have had a perceived “regression” in social and functional skills, take your child in to be tested. It was really hard for me to accept the diagnosis at first; building a wall of denial to protect me from getting hurt. Sometimes though, it’s only by putting it all on the line we can help our children. Don’t be afraid to ask for a second opinion but know that what you’re hearing might be the truth that you’ll have to accept.
Right now I have 3 cousins in my immediate family who have 3 children that are possibly autistic. Only one of the kids has been diagnosed. The parents of the other 2 (seperate moms and dads) continue to deny there is anything wrong though their kids show every sign of autism. I hope they’ll read this an understand that although it’s hard to do the right thing, you know you have to do it for you baby.
Zac sits playing with toys at the UC Davis Mind Institute. Photo by Daddy.
