Hello. My name is "I have no social skills." Wanna be friends?

So it's been far too long since my last post.  I've been lazy.  I've been unmotivated and quite frankly, I've been a little deflated.  Work has been tough and my mood has been shaky.  But that all started to change last week.  I saw something that snapped me out of my funk and decided to write about it.  So here goes.

My boy has a diagnosed case of Aspergers.  In short, he has little comprehension of the required social skills necessary to make it through most situations that many of us take for granted.  He doesn't pick up on social cues. He barges into conversations. He gets really upset when his routine is thrown out of whack.  He is a challenge. But he's also my boy and he's a great kid!

Yep...that's my boy!

His challenges can; at times, filter across into the playground and classroom.  He has struggled for years to find friends and have them put up with his 'nuances'.  Teachers either love him (as he really is quite endearing) or; as it is in this case, barely tolerate him and treat him as a burden rather than a brilliant mind that should be moulded and crafted.  Unlike many other 'normal' kids, he has the capacity to do amazing intellectual things.  He picks up on small details that many of us would take for granted.  At times, on a microscopic level.  He can be brilliant.  Think,"evil-genius-level" brilliant minus the sharks with laser beams on their heads.  And he doesn't really have a fortress of doom.....yet.

Any ways, as I was mentioning, his challenges often cause conflict out on the playground as he is a constant source of teasing and ridicule. His ticks making him visibly vulnerable and his mannerisms make him odd.  It's a constant uphill battle.

About 10 Weeks ago we were contacted by a local organization here in town called Children at Risk; they work with kids that fall within the Autism Spectrum helping them adapt to situations and learn how to "be" more effectively in the world.  They wanted to meet with us (including my son) to see if he would be a fit for one of their programs.  8 Weeks ago he started in to a weekly program with 6 other boys that all had some form or mild Autism, Aspergers or ADHD.  The goal was to get them to work together in social situations and learn how to manage their challenges more effectively.

While this was all well and good, we'd read the books before and tried different approaches and met with mixed results.  As this was costing us, I was a little sceptical about the outcome.  "One more cash grab" was the message floating around in the back of my head.  I needed to see some serious results to feel that these classes were working.

Each Wednesday night became routine.  The wife and kids would pick me up after work, we'd go for dinner, drop my son off at class, shop for an hour and a half, go back and get him, get the dog from Doggy Day Jail (Petsmart Day Camp) and then wrestle the kids into bed after an exhausting 15 hour day.  The first few Wednesdays came and went without so much as a whisper about how the sessions were going.  We'd ask my son how the class went and generally were met with one or two words. "Good.  Ok."  Yep, these courses were really paying for themselves......FML.

Then about 4 weeks in I started watching the other parents as they brought their kids to the class and subsequently picked them up later that evening.  I watched how they interacted with their boys.  I watched the look of frustration or apathy melt away from their faces when the door to the classroom closed and they realized they were free for even a minimal amount of time.

Before you judge though and think that we're all terrible parents that hate their kids, hear me out.  As much as I saw these parents go through the motions each Wednesday and systematically cut and run on their kids, I watched their faces when they picked their kids up after each session.  It wasn't exhaustion that showed back up, but joy.  Seeing their boy come bounding out of the class full of energy and smiles brought smiles to their faces; if even for only a few minutes before the weight of life came floating back down.

As the sessions progressed, I had more people mention to me that they had noticed improvement in my son's disposition.  He was calmer, more focussed....happier.  The sessions seemed to be working.  At times it seemed difficult to see the progress.  Sometimes you're too far into the situation to appreciate the changes that are happening.

It wasn't until the second last session that the full weight of it actually hit me.  I was in the classroom getting my son or at least, trying to get him!.  He was fully focused on a game of to-the-death air hockey with the other boys.  It was do or die overtime and the play was fast and frantic.  Tongues hanging out of mouths in concentration, eyes focused on the puck and smiles as wide as the Grand Canyon on all of their faces.  They were having FUN.

As a Dad, you hope that your kids will grow up healthy, happy and yes.....even popular.  For any Parent that has a child that is afflicted by a physical, mental or emotional disorder, you never truly lose site of those hopes, but you learn to adjust your outlook slightly.  You learn to be more realistic.  You learn to accept certain truths even if those truths smudge your ability to live vicariously through your child.   You learn to be a more realistic parent.

Mines the one on the left.

Seeing the boys playing together quickly changed my outlook on things.  Yes my son was not part of that percentage of "normal kids".  He was an anomaly; an outcast; a misfit.  But he wasn't alone.  Here before me  stood 7 lost boys.  The children that couldn't be children because they didn't always understand how to BE a kid.  But over these 8 weeks together, they had come to find out that they weren't alone.  They had brothers-in-arms that would stand beside them in their oddity because to them....it wasn't odd at all.  What we considered anti-social, they considered the norm.  They weren't 7 boys with Autism spectrum.....they were just 7 boys.

Although the group has broken for the Summer the bond formed between these 7 ruffians has not even been bent.  Phone numbers have been exchanged, tips and tricks have been shared and plans have been laid that will carry them through until Fall.  My boy walks with his head a little higher now as does his Dad who now knows that when he meets a new potential friend, it's OK if he says
"Hello.  My name is 'I have no social skills.' Wanna be friends?"

It's OK, because somewhere in this city, there are 6 other boys doing the exact same thing.  And their triumphs and tragedies will fuel their stories for the next time they meet.....and play another killer game of air hockey.

I'd like to introduce you to my new friend SARAH

I'd like to introduce you to my new friend SARAH.  She's going to be staying for a while.  She's moved on in to my house and now has her feet up on the coffee table as I write this.  It doesn't look like she's going anywhere anytime soon.  That's what she thinks.

Funny thing about SARAH is the longer she stays, the better the visit ends off.  But while she comes in raging like a bull in a China shop, she often leaves with hugs and kisses and a sense that all will be well.  But we're not at that part of the visit just yet.  My wife and I knew SARAH was planning on making an appearance sometime in the New Year.  In fact, we've been anticipating her visit for about 10 years now.  Her plans though really didn't solidify until about a year ago.  At that point, we started mentally getting ourselves ready for her stay.  But no matter how prepped we were, her arrival was still a kick to the gut.

  

Five days ago, my 10 year old son was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome; a mild form of autism.  In brief: 

Asperger syndrome is a form of autism, which is a lifelong disability that affects how a person makes sense of the world, processes information and relates to other people. Autism is often described as a 'spectrum disorder' because the condition affects people in many different ways and to varying degrees.

Asperger syndrome is mostly a 'hidden disability'. This means that you can't tell that someone has the condition from their outward appearance. People with the condition have difficulties in three main areas. They are:

• social communication
• social interaction
• social imagination.  (http://www.autism.org.uk/asperger)

While my wife and I had our suspicions; she much earlier than I, it was still a slap in the face when those words spilled out of the Psychologist's mouth.  "Your son has Asperger's Syndrome."  Somewhere in my mind an imaginary phone began ringing.

'That's SARAH calling.  She's finalized her travel plans and should be here later this afternoon.'

"Your son has Asperger's Syndrome."

'I'm not sure if we can handle having her visit.  There's too much to do.  She'll only get in the way of things!'

"Your son has Asperger's Syndrome."

Driving to work after the diagnosis was an odd experience.  My wife was on the phone with her Mom.  The radio was playing but I can't remember what was on.  I remember gliding through traffic and eventually showing up in the parking lot.  It was freezing outside that day and regardless of how hot the car heater was blowing, I felt cold....numb.  There weren't really any tears shed nor many words spoken in the car that day.  How do you react to something that you saw coming from 10 miles away?  Nope.  There'd be plenty of time for all of that once SARAH got here.

I finished work and was in the process of driving home with the family (they had picked me up after work) when SARAH showed up. I had stopped to pump gas when she tapped me on the shoulder to say Hi.  An overwhelming sense of sadness came flooding in; like a weight had been dropped into the pit of my stomach.  The first phase had begun.

I should clarify.  SARAH is not a person.  She is not even a She.  She is an it.  A concept.  An idea.  SARAH is what I use to classify the 5 stages people go through when dealing with a traumatic event or loss on some level.  Sadness, Anger, Rejection, Acceptance and Healing.  The time needed to move from phase to phase is as unique as the person who is going through the process.  Needless to say, SARAH has so far been able to manifest in her first two phases.  It really comes out of nowhere and there's nothing you can do but roll with it.

I've been waking up late at night (I'm not sleeping terribly well these last few nights) and ask myself....'What's next for our boy?' The long and short of it is that he will never be "cured" in the traditional sense.  There's no magic pill that makes it all go away.  At least that's what the experts say.  But I have hope.  Maybe that's SARAH making her presence known and showing me her "Rejection" side.  I denounce the possibility that there's no possibility for my son to wake up and snap out of it.  I think I'll probably always reject that idea on some level.

My wife and I are doing our best to begin to adapt our lifestyle, routines and household to this new and strange disorder.  While nothing drastic has changed, the diagnosis; the stigma around the word has us looking at the world through slightly different glasses than before.  We're taking steps to help him more with school, chores and social interaction in general, but it's an uphill battle.

Imagine a typical 10 year old boy; full of questions, mischief, humour and heart.  Think about how they thrive on social interaction; hanging with their buddies, playing sports.  Imagine them collapsing into bed exhausted at night to dream the night away after a hard day of playing.  Now imagine a child that has no 'off switch'; no ability to recharge because their mind never stops working….ever.  A child with all the hopes and ambitions as other typical 10 year olds but with an inability to read social cues; to understand why their behaviour and actions come across as odd or weird or disruptive.  An inability to make and maintain friendships.  There's no happy ending right now....only adapting and coping.

There's a whole community of Parents with Asperger children out there.  They affectionately refer to their children as "Aspies".  Cute.  But at this stage I find the name offensive and not much classier than calling someone a Retard.  They speak about the uniqueness of their child and how they will grow up to be Professors or Rocket Scientists or something else amazing.  But truth be told, not every child will be so lucky.  Some will never be able to live an independent life. 

We're extremely lucky that Evan will more than likely fall into the first category; able to utilize his amazing visual/memory talents for the greater good. This is a kid who at age 4 could memorize where all the objects were on a seek and find picture book.  With the proper social coaching and care he’ll not just be able to cope but thrive.  They say 1 in every 150 children in North American is affected by the Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Our boy just happens to be one of them.

My hope is that SARAH will eventually pack her stuff and move on to some other poor bastard family.  She's not really welcome here anymore.  In the meantime, we'll continue to learn and love as best as we can.