Dear Addie, I’m not much of a baseball player, but this week we were thrown a curveball. A long weekend for you from school, turned into not a fun or relaxing time, but an emergency room visit and a very sick SADdie. It all started Saturday. Addie let me start by saying that there’s a common misconception about individuals with autism and how they lack the ability to receive or show love and affection. False. Very false (in our case). You, at 9 years old (and just shy of 100lbs) still crawl into our bed every morning without fail and snuggle your way in between daddy and I. On this morning you snuggled on in and we said our usual “good morning” only to be given a response that sounded not like you, but rather a sultry, lounge singer version of you! I immediately checked for a fever and with no sign of one our first thought was allergies. Poor sweetness. Strike one for your long weekend. You see Addie, it’s always kind of a shocker when you’re under the weather. Kind of an odd statement right?! But you’ve proven time and time again that you seem to have some sort of super human immune system! It’s true! You have dodged so many viruses and illnesses that I’ve always thought it had something to do with your PICA deficiency with licking and eating to many frowned upon things - inadvertently super charging your immune system. Not that I condone eating any of this, but it happens. But not this time. There was no dodging whatever this was and it hit you like a bullseye. As the day progressed there were some distinctive signs you were under the weather (in addition to sounding like you smoked a pack of cigarettes overnight). First and foremost you stopped talking. I know what you’re thinking, seriously mom, that’s a sign? Yes, yes it is. Addie we went years with you being 100% nonverbal and while most of your language today is echolalia (or echoing what we say) we are beginning to get more and more spontaneous language (primarily "yes" for wants and needs) but when you’re sick it’s a big time warp to your earlier years of nothing verbal - not even those echolalia responses. It’s just too much work and thinking for you to focus on forming or finding the right dialogue. Charades anyone? Only your game is played with no clues. Most of the day you just seemed to be moving through the motions. Not talking, not drinking, just sitting, still flashing a silent smile here and there. We had to run a few errands and decided to stop and get McDonald's for a quick lunch. Addie, McDonald’s cheeseburgers are kinda your jam (no judgement - I like them too!) so I knew you’d eat this! Sure enough you pulled two burgers down like it was your job. Finally some food in you! Score! Surely this would bring back your energy, right?! But while I thought I made it "on base" what I didn’t know was it was a foul ball and strike two was about to happen.
We arrived home and you promptly took your shoes off and headed to your room. This act in itself is not a totally uncommon thing. After being out in public sometimes you need some decompressing and breathing room on your own. Your room is a place that provides that for you.
Respecting your time, I went to check on you after about 10 minutes only to open your door and get smacked in the face with that lovely scent that every parent dreads - ode de vomit. There you were curled up in a ball with all your blankets after just having unleashed cheeseburgers all over your carpet. Ugh.
We cleaned you and your room up and you just kind of existed (for lack of a better term) the rest of the day. No playing, sleeping, eating or drinking. Just sat on the couch, still with no fever.
What was going on?!
Im not sure if every parent plays this game when their children get sick, but it’s the “should we go to the Dr.?” game. Sounds horrible right?! You see Addie we have a some seriously awful and traumatic experiences in hospitals and doctors offices, so the debate of "Is the stress worth it?" or "Can it run its course?" is always on the forefront. Unfortunately we have been in some medical situations where there didn’t seem to be the knowledge of treating children with autism or sensory challenges - and that was at a children’s hospital! But I digress...
You sat with us at dinner, but looked at your magazine instead of eating your “make a Mac 'n cheese!” No complaining, just pushed it aside.
With your bedtime routine complete, you were fast asleep in no time. Little did we know but strike three was about to help us make our next move. You know how you have your routines? Well mommy and daddy have ours as well, and before we go to bed every night. we always check on everyone, giving extra smooches and making sure everyone is good. When we got to your room you were fast asleep, but rapidly breathing (almost panting) and with a quick temp check you were almost at 104 degrees, and yes there was another pile of vomit that I stepped in when walking into your dark room. After throwing my socks away, next stop without a second thought was the ER. Good news we were seen really fast and everyone there seemed very well versed in treating children with ASD. A far cry from our last ER experience for a concussion. After questions, swabs for any and everything, throwing an evil eye glare at the nurse who swabbed you’re nose and a few hours of staring at the balloons painted on the ceiling, they threw us a curveball - just a virus or two (stomach & respiratory). We went home with instructions for rest, plenty of fluids, over the counter meds for pain and anti nausea medication. We were off to sit in the dugout for a bit Addie and wait this out.
This past week has been filled with sadness. With me home from work, you followed me around everywhere and would lay next to me wherever I was. Folding laundry, making lunch - you were my horizontal shadow. I could tell when you were achy because you would play musical beds to find which one felt most comfortable in the middle of the day.
Even with your body as tired as it was, routine is everything and when you’re not a school you’re on your swing reaching for the stars, flying through the air, serenading the neighbors with your creaking swing swaying back and forth. But as much as you wanted too, you could only muster up enough energy to go and just sit, taking in the fresh air and feeling the breeze. The saddest sight ever of you, my adventurous happy girl.
After day six, I decided we needed to return to the doctor to check your lungs one more time. We were reassured your body was doing exactly what it needed to, and with the respiratory virus just hanging on, it was productive so that was positive. It looks like hanging out in the dugout for awhile longer was still exactly what we needed.
Addie you might have been benched this week, but you’ll always be our star player even in the dugout. You'll be batter up in no time!
Love,
Mom
Comentarios