Autism Therapy: chiropractor

My almost four year-old son Thomas is a delightful child in so many ways. He can sing the alphabet song. He can recite entire scenes from movies he likes. He's got a great throwing arm. He shows lots of affection with hugs and kisses. He tries to ride our dog as if she were a horse. He does all of these things and so much more, despite being autistic.

He was diagnosed with autism at the age of three-and-a-half years with the help of both the staff at his developmental preschool and a neurologist. After I completed the Childhood Autism Rating Scale (CARS) with his neurologist, Thomas was placed at the moderate to severe end of the spectrum.

The journey to diagnosis was a long and frustrating one. Every time my husband (not me; I was in some degree of denial about Thomas' behavior) mentioned autism to any of Thomas' three therapists (speech, developmental, and occupational), they always replied that they were not qualified to make that kind of diagnosis, but they didn't think he was autistic. We got very tired of hearing that nobody was qualified to make a diagnosis, and since none of his therapists "thought" that he was autistic, we didn't see the need to seek the advice of a neurologist. I still wish that somebody would have had the guts to tell us that they suspected we were up against something very serious.

We had many concerns about his behavior. He crashed into me and my husband all the time, on purpose. He spent the winter of 2004 - 2005 rocking and bouncing his head on our couch cushions. He repeated everything that he heard, word for word, including identical intonation and inflection. He didn't seem very interested in playing with other kids, and when he did, he went about social interaction the wrong way. He would approach another child, a complete stranger, and either hit the child or hug them instead of saying "Hi." Transitions were also very difficult. Leaving the park must have been quite a spectacle as I strapped Thomas' neurologically typical and easy-going little sister into the back seat of the double stroller and then attempted to force Thomas into the front seat while he struggled as best he could to land a well-placed foot or fist in my face. It was enough to make me not want to take him out of the house anymore. I kept at it though, and it seems to be paying off.

Thomas left the Early Intervention program of therapies at the age of three and began school in January of 2006. He was only attending on Tuesdays and Thursdays for two-and-a-half hours in the morning. He was in a class of ten with all of the children displaying some degree of developmental disability or delay. He had good days and bad days, and because of the difficulty his teacher was having getting him to accept the school routine, she suggested that we switch Thomas to a five-day per week schedule. We'd talk more about that at his Individual Education Plan (IEP) meeting in May, she said.

I will never forget that meeting. It was on Tuesday, May 9^th. Somehow I knew going in that it was not destined to be a "happy" meeting. My instinct was more right than I could have realized as I sat at the end of a long table filled with stacks of papers and Thomas' entire educational staff. Everyone took turns talking about Thomas' behavior, and very little of it seemed good. By the time the school social worker was talking (she was maybe the fourth person out of ten) I was in tears, my mind was in a haze and I could think of nothing but going home and crying for a long time. Unfortunately, the worst was still to come as everyone had finished talking and the social worker said, "All of this suggests autism to me. We'd like you to take him to a neurologist for a diagnosis." There was a quiet nod of assent from the other people at the table, and Thomas' teacher looked at her hands in her lap. Weeks later, I realized that it must be just as difficult for educators to go through those tough meetings as it is for the parents.

I did take Thomas to see his neurologist the very next week. His diagnosis was confirmed and he was allegedly moderate to severely autistic. I don't really agree with where Thomas' neurologist placed him on the spectrum, because he is at his absolute worst at the doctor's office, like most children.

After a long summer, Thomas started going to school five days every week on September 5^th. He takes the bus each day and is doing a great job, so far. We're still working on transitions, and he has actually gotten a lot better recently with that. He seems to do better transitioning for everyone but me. (I still have a long, scabby scratch-mark on my face from a particularly nasty incident while leaving Chuck E. Cheese last Friday.) Thomas continues to have a lot of echolalic speech, but he seems to have good days and bad days with it. Of course, social interaction is a problem, but even that's been improving. Probably the most troublesome aspect of Thomas' behavior is that he is constantly seeking sensory input. He really hurts me and my husband sometimes by jumping on us and crashing into us when we're unprepared for it. The chiropractor bills are staggering. (Luckily, he abstains from jumping on his little sister.) If he's not getting enough auditory input, he makes the most irritating noises, like banging toys into walls or slamming doors. It's hard for me to try to redirect him instead of just taking toys away or taking doors off their hinges, so I try to remind myself that he's not making noise just to be obnoxious, he needs the input.

Parenting Thomas continues to be a struggle with small rewards throughout our day. Just this evening, I was whining to my husband because he got home very late from work and I was frazzled after a long day with the kids. Thomas didn't even look up from where he was playing at the sink to say to my husband, "Mommy is getting very sad, Daddy." Of course, I immediately stopped my moaning and started laughing. Through all of this, there are many small, bright moments of clarity in Thomas' behavior that make us laugh or smile. We treasure them all.

My husband and I are going to attend our first Autism Support Group meeting on Wednesday night. I'm not really sure what to expect, but I'm looking forward to exchanging information with other parents in our same situation. We're also about to hit potty training hard, after attending a workshop on the subject at the school last week, so I'm sure I'll have plenty to write about in the coming weeks.