A trip to a child therapist gave us our guiding arrow towards diagnosis for Denver and myself. She noted key points in his behavior; eye contact, lack of responsiveness to questions, strange organization rituals, and lack of understanding for social boundaries. Yes, I know small children aren't renound for their social understanding, however, they still have an age appropriate level of behavior. She suggested the name of a specialist, the only one in the area we lived in.
Testing for autism is not a quick process. It's a series of tests and questionaires. The questions are many and are about things that we notice in his behavior and reactions to the world around him. Asperger's Syndrome, what was this condition? I had never heard of it before and I started investigating it myself. I can already tell you that I saw myself in my son in many ways and I started to wonder if this condition could be hereditary?
I asked the doctor we were seeing and she said Asperger's can be very hereditary. I asked if I could be tested and we began my learning journey that would redefine everything I ever thought I knew about myself. Two months after my diagnosis, my mother contacted me to tell me that she had been diagnosed with the condition herself. She didn't know I was even being tested on the matter. So far, all of my nephews show strong traits towards this condition.
At home, Denver continued to surprise us and we feared for his safety overnight. We were met with a serious dilemna. We tried baby gates. With just one, he climbed over it. With two, we had the same result. Three worked to keep him in until he learned how to dismantle the baby gates. I already mentioned in the last part that child proof doorknobs were useless too. Authorities said that locking a child in a room is a fire hazard and considered child abuse.
So, what do you do when your toddler is so smart it's a hazard to his health? What ever you have to and you just don't tell anyone else. Yes, that means I put a latch on his door and once he was asleep, he would be shut in until morning. The fact of the matter is that, if there were a fire, an autistic child wouldn't be capable of escaping on his own anyway. If you take sensory overload into consideration, they would retreat or shut down. Denver would have hidden in his blankets if we couldn't get to him. Do you think he would be easily found? There are a lot of reports out there that say otherwise.
In case of a fire, our mission was to get Denver and get out either via the window or a front or back door. Then we would head for the street. So we had a plan and the door was only latched over night. Thankfully, Denver grew out of his extra adventures and we could stop latching the door. Sadly, many a family struggling with just this have been charged with child abuse or neglect when they are only trying to protect their child from him or herself. Had they allowed the child to roam free overnight and it caused injury or death, well, lets just say the charges were the same where we lived. So, since do and don't have the same outcome, you may as well "do" and protect your child. At least then they aren't getting into the knife drawer.
Denver's room had lots of blankets and large soft plush toys. Everything was soft and safe, so in the night, he had little to hurt himself with if anything. If you think that was the biggest challenge or that Denver was done throwing us curveballs, you'll have to see part five, because you've got another thing coming.
Showing posts with label autistic parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autistic parent. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Raising Denver Part 3: Disturbances
Somewhere close to three years of age, Denver started having terrible fits. In these fits he would savagely slam his head against the floor or wall until physically weakened. Then he would pause, whimper and do it one more time if we didn't get to him fast enough. The fits were inconsolable and we got scratched and bit for trying to calm him. Nothing that we could see seemed to cause these fits either. They appeared truly random. His vocabulary grew by leaps and bounds and while this was wonderful, he some heartbreaking things to say. On one occassion that I grabbed him up from a fit, he asked me; "Daddy, why can't I stop?" That cut deeply and told me something really was wrong, and even he knew it. We didn't know yet he had Asperger's Syndrome.
We took him to an appointment with our doctor and he even had one of his fits right in front of him. The fact that nothing could comfort him struck a chord with the doctor and he prescribed a foam helmet. That required a new appointment elsewhere for a fitting. In two weeks he had his red helmet. He chose the color himself. We also discovered one thing that could console him in these fits. We covered him with a blanket. It wouldn't be long before that would make perfect sense.
On another facet he showed an interesting skill. We all know that kids get curious as they grow and start wanting to open cabinets and drawers to get to the treasures inside. Naturally we attempted to protect him from some of those treasures with child proof locks. They may have been child proof, but they weren't Denver proof. He took them apart with the nimble dexterity of a cat burglar. We had to change the style a couple of times and eventually got one that was just too hard on our own fingers for him. Still he would watch us intently any time we were near them.
He also showed a keen interest in the refrigerator in the middle of the night. We woke up several mornings to a keen mixture of foodstuffs on the kitchen floor. So we looked into making his bedroom more secure. Latching or locking his door was considered illegal in case of fire. It occurred to us that he would panic in a fire and we would have to get to him in any case. So we tried being crafty with child proof doorknobs. There's those laughable words again, 'child proof'. Yep, he took them apart with nimble ease. On one such morning, I staggered out of bed and to the kitchen.
"Daddy!" came a gleeful voice from above my head. I slowly looked up to where he sat atop the refridgerator. He held out a box of cereal with a beaming triumphant grin.
In part four I will tell you how we finally made it to his diagnosis and mine along with security measure that had to be adapted for Denver.
We took him to an appointment with our doctor and he even had one of his fits right in front of him. The fact that nothing could comfort him struck a chord with the doctor and he prescribed a foam helmet. That required a new appointment elsewhere for a fitting. In two weeks he had his red helmet. He chose the color himself. We also discovered one thing that could console him in these fits. We covered him with a blanket. It wouldn't be long before that would make perfect sense.
On another facet he showed an interesting skill. We all know that kids get curious as they grow and start wanting to open cabinets and drawers to get to the treasures inside. Naturally we attempted to protect him from some of those treasures with child proof locks. They may have been child proof, but they weren't Denver proof. He took them apart with the nimble dexterity of a cat burglar. We had to change the style a couple of times and eventually got one that was just too hard on our own fingers for him. Still he would watch us intently any time we were near them.
He also showed a keen interest in the refrigerator in the middle of the night. We woke up several mornings to a keen mixture of foodstuffs on the kitchen floor. So we looked into making his bedroom more secure. Latching or locking his door was considered illegal in case of fire. It occurred to us that he would panic in a fire and we would have to get to him in any case. So we tried being crafty with child proof doorknobs. There's those laughable words again, 'child proof'. Yep, he took them apart with nimble ease. On one such morning, I staggered out of bed and to the kitchen.
"Daddy!" came a gleeful voice from above my head. I slowly looked up to where he sat atop the refridgerator. He held out a box of cereal with a beaming triumphant grin.
In part four I will tell you how we finally made it to his diagnosis and mine along with security measure that had to be adapted for Denver.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Raising Denver Part 2: Hurdles
Being 3 months early didn't slow Denver down one iota in weight gain to leave the hospital. The nursing staff remained pretty impressed with him through out. That's a comforting thought when you have a baby that can't leave the hospital until he weighs five pounds.
They only put him on oxygen once and that only lasted a few hours. I took a lot of time off work for my little man and my wife since she recovered from a c-section. By the time he finally came home they were having patience issues. Oh well.
We celebrated his home coming and spent lots of time getting used to a new schedule around the house. The first thing everyone noticed about Denver was his crying. He didn't. At least not as often as you would expect an infant to. This worried us but we forged forward and considered ourselves lucky to have such a happy baby. We checked on him more often but he sure made it worth it. He had to be about the most smiley baby I ever saw.
His little eyes would just light up whenever someone came to him. I'm still trying to find the photos so I can post them and show them to you. Even though he had reflux like my daughters did, and like I did, he didn't cry about that either.
As he grew he started into development toward crawling. Most babies roll first, not Denver. He started holding his head up and went to scooting, skipped most of crawling and started pulling himself up on things by 6 months. During this time, I did something really stupid.
Oh no! What could I have done? Well, we all teach our kids bad habits at some point in time. As it turns out, Denver and I liked to put our foreheads to each other (which made him giggle endlessly) and I would say "bonk bonk" (no I wouldn't actually bonk him, geez!) but he sure took it as a way to play. He became the head butting baby. His first word may have been Dad, but his favorite word was BONK. Out of the blue, if you held him too close, he would smile and slam his forehead right into your face. Yep, dumb Dad taught him that one and got to hear about it for months.
It was never enough to hurt him and that, at least, was a plus. As he started to walk, we noted that he always stayed up on tip toes. We didn't know at the time that this was a sign of things to come. He also developed hydrocephalis (water on the brain- and NO, not from headbutting people) but he developed past and overcame it. We had him in a little bit of therapy for the tip toe-ing but he soon moved past that too. He wasted little time on walking once he learned and jumped right to running.
Now a new problem presented itself. Denver wasn't responding to pain stimulus. He would fall, hit his head on a coffee table edge or a door and bounce right up and be off again. Not a single tear ever fell for the longest time. He was ticklish as anything, but if he ever hit anything very hard, until he was almost 3, nothing. It's scary when your child doesn't know if he hurts himself. You find yourself getting paranoid about everything he does.
Fortunately, today, that's not the case. He's seven now and knows pretty well, but in part 3 I'll show you just how scary it really got.
They only put him on oxygen once and that only lasted a few hours. I took a lot of time off work for my little man and my wife since she recovered from a c-section. By the time he finally came home they were having patience issues. Oh well.
We celebrated his home coming and spent lots of time getting used to a new schedule around the house. The first thing everyone noticed about Denver was his crying. He didn't. At least not as often as you would expect an infant to. This worried us but we forged forward and considered ourselves lucky to have such a happy baby. We checked on him more often but he sure made it worth it. He had to be about the most smiley baby I ever saw.
His little eyes would just light up whenever someone came to him. I'm still trying to find the photos so I can post them and show them to you. Even though he had reflux like my daughters did, and like I did, he didn't cry about that either.
As he grew he started into development toward crawling. Most babies roll first, not Denver. He started holding his head up and went to scooting, skipped most of crawling and started pulling himself up on things by 6 months. During this time, I did something really stupid.
Oh no! What could I have done? Well, we all teach our kids bad habits at some point in time. As it turns out, Denver and I liked to put our foreheads to each other (which made him giggle endlessly) and I would say "bonk bonk" (no I wouldn't actually bonk him, geez!) but he sure took it as a way to play. He became the head butting baby. His first word may have been Dad, but his favorite word was BONK. Out of the blue, if you held him too close, he would smile and slam his forehead right into your face. Yep, dumb Dad taught him that one and got to hear about it for months.
It was never enough to hurt him and that, at least, was a plus. As he started to walk, we noted that he always stayed up on tip toes. We didn't know at the time that this was a sign of things to come. He also developed hydrocephalis (water on the brain- and NO, not from headbutting people) but he developed past and overcame it. We had him in a little bit of therapy for the tip toe-ing but he soon moved past that too. He wasted little time on walking once he learned and jumped right to running.
Now a new problem presented itself. Denver wasn't responding to pain stimulus. He would fall, hit his head on a coffee table edge or a door and bounce right up and be off again. Not a single tear ever fell for the longest time. He was ticklish as anything, but if he ever hit anything very hard, until he was almost 3, nothing. It's scary when your child doesn't know if he hurts himself. You find yourself getting paranoid about everything he does.
Fortunately, today, that's not the case. He's seven now and knows pretty well, but in part 3 I'll show you just how scary it really got.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Raising Denver Part 1: In a Name
My son's name has a history. His full name is Denver Justice Wilde and he likes to make sure you know his whole name whenever anyone asks. He knows a little bit about the history of his name too and if you ask him, he might tell you. He is named after a dear departed friend I considered to be a brother. He considered the same of me.
In Denver Jr.'s family, the first son of a first son's name had to be Denver. It was the family tradition and reached clear back into the family's roots in old France. So, it's safe to say that the city has nothing to do with it. For that matter, when this tradition started, the United States hadn't been born yet.
Denver Jr. looked so very forward to passing his name on to another generation one day. That was not to be. We lived in Henderson, Nevada when it happened. He worked and extra shift in a video store for a sick co-worker. I found out about it when I went to pick him up at 11pm.
"Sorry, I'm doing an extra shift. It's good money and the other guy is sick."
Fine by me, we could use the money since we were about to get a new apartment to officially start of our Las Vegas living and adventures. We called ourselves the DnD Brothers and we had big plans. I bought him three Mountain Dews and got him some change for the night shift and went back to his grandmother's house where we were staying.
That morning, his father woke me up and asked if I was supposed to be picking Denver up. I had expected a phone call to wake me at seven am sharp but that didn't happen. The only thing I remember was waking up at five a.m. with a strange feeling that I should get in the car. I dismissed it and went back to sleep.
Denver Sr. and I drove my car out to the video store. We could see the yellow tape cordoning off the parking lot and building from blocks away. Denver Sr. caught on right away, but I didn't. Denial? Hope springs eternal? I don't know. Maybe the thought was just too much to consider. It took me innocently asking an officer how long they would be questioning my brother before I was given the messsage.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you won't be taking him with you anywhere. He's gone."
Gone? I fell back against my car and felt reality pulling away from me. I couldn't believe it was even possible. I had just seen him before midnight.
Two thieves, high on drugs, robbed the store in the early morning hours. A man and a woman. I still know their names, but I won't waste space with them right now. Since I was one of the last people who saw him alive who knew him, I faced his killers in court for two years. I identified my brothers body for the State of Nevada. They rot in prison to this day.
Needless to say, the tradition broke, but I decided not to let it stay that way. I told Denver Sr. that I planned to start the tradition anew. True, it would not be of the same family "blood", but family none-the-less.
I had three daughters and earned a stepson before he came and my wife agreed that his name would be Denver Justice.
He made quite an entrance into our world, three months early, two pounds, lobster red and screaming with quite a set of lungs for his little size. I've seen all my children come into this world and each one had their own way of making their presence known. Denver's was the loudest.
That was just the hairline beginning of my adventures with this little man. Oh how I had no idea what I was in for.
In Denver Jr.'s family, the first son of a first son's name had to be Denver. It was the family tradition and reached clear back into the family's roots in old France. So, it's safe to say that the city has nothing to do with it. For that matter, when this tradition started, the United States hadn't been born yet.
Denver Jr. looked so very forward to passing his name on to another generation one day. That was not to be. We lived in Henderson, Nevada when it happened. He worked and extra shift in a video store for a sick co-worker. I found out about it when I went to pick him up at 11pm.
"Sorry, I'm doing an extra shift. It's good money and the other guy is sick."
Fine by me, we could use the money since we were about to get a new apartment to officially start of our Las Vegas living and adventures. We called ourselves the DnD Brothers and we had big plans. I bought him three Mountain Dews and got him some change for the night shift and went back to his grandmother's house where we were staying.
That morning, his father woke me up and asked if I was supposed to be picking Denver up. I had expected a phone call to wake me at seven am sharp but that didn't happen. The only thing I remember was waking up at five a.m. with a strange feeling that I should get in the car. I dismissed it and went back to sleep.
Denver Sr. and I drove my car out to the video store. We could see the yellow tape cordoning off the parking lot and building from blocks away. Denver Sr. caught on right away, but I didn't. Denial? Hope springs eternal? I don't know. Maybe the thought was just too much to consider. It took me innocently asking an officer how long they would be questioning my brother before I was given the messsage.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you won't be taking him with you anywhere. He's gone."
Gone? I fell back against my car and felt reality pulling away from me. I couldn't believe it was even possible. I had just seen him before midnight.
Two thieves, high on drugs, robbed the store in the early morning hours. A man and a woman. I still know their names, but I won't waste space with them right now. Since I was one of the last people who saw him alive who knew him, I faced his killers in court for two years. I identified my brothers body for the State of Nevada. They rot in prison to this day.
Needless to say, the tradition broke, but I decided not to let it stay that way. I told Denver Sr. that I planned to start the tradition anew. True, it would not be of the same family "blood", but family none-the-less.
I had three daughters and earned a stepson before he came and my wife agreed that his name would be Denver Justice.
He made quite an entrance into our world, three months early, two pounds, lobster red and screaming with quite a set of lungs for his little size. I've seen all my children come into this world and each one had their own way of making their presence known. Denver's was the loudest.
That was just the hairline beginning of my adventures with this little man. Oh how I had no idea what I was in for.
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