Research suggests children can recover from autism (AP May 9, 2009)

I find it incredibly surprising that the medical field never considered this a possiblity. I find it even more surprising, and apalling, that some STILL will not consider the findings of this reasearch a legitimate probability.

"Doubters say "either they really weren't autistic to begin with ... or they're still socially odd and obsessive, but they don't exactly meet criteria" for autism..."

Realism is one thing, but is an improvement in a child's condition not worth anything? So they may not fully recover. Does that make the fact they get better less significant? If a child with an autism spectrum disorder (ASD) who would have needed constant supervision is now able to play independently, interact better with others, is that not a breakthrough? I can't believe that doctors can refuse to give parents, and those children, any hope for a better life... a close to normal life.

So how is anyone to trust any of these doctors, psychologists or special care-providers with helping their ASD-diagnosed child when they don't believe there is hope for them anyway? Can any of them really be sincere? No wonder preschools refuse such children and even children they suspect of having ASD. They feel there's nothing they can do to help, so they just refuse to help.

But here's what they do do. They reinforce in these children poor self-esteem. These children are raised to think that life will never improve for them. Any kind of congnitive therapy will fail if the child is surrounded by such pessimism regarding his odds of improvement and made to believe that any effort towards that will be futile or limited in yield at best.It's sad that they aren't given the option of thinking that life may still work out for them, even if they are different from the rest.

It is even more worrisome that children with mild to moderate behavior issues are also being slapped with the ASD label and given the same dim prognosis by doctors, psychologists, teachers and third party care-givers when clearly their world is full of more possibilities than those suffering from more severe forms of autism.

I wonder how many adults are walking around today, living their lives, working their jobs, growing families, who never got diagnosed with ASD when under current definitions, they should be. I wonder if never knowing they had ASD has made their life any harder or any easier. Perhaps they thought they had a few personality quirks to straighten out and that made it easier for them to bring about positive changes in themselves.

Doctors and psychologists have become so immersed in the science of it all that they have become severly detached from the humanity of it. We are but specimens to observe, study and analyze, practice their theories on and document. Have they forgotten that their purpose is to help improve our lives?

A question

Those tortuous thoughts tease and taunt. Pangs of jealousy have your stomach tied in knots. There's a heaviness in your chest and you begin to have trouble breathing as you're consumed by self-pity, bitterness and loathing...

... if only for a fleeting moment.

Then you choose... to simply shake everything off and resume life as it were,

or, to indulge.

There's always some point in a relationship, no matter how secure, where we wonder if we're the only one... am I the only one he thinks about, am I the only one he fantasizes about, am I the only one he has eyes for. Or she.

Sometimes it's warranted. Other times, and most times, it's just a "feeling". Regardless of the existence of evidence, the thought can make us just as ill.

But why?

Of course, I can understand if we're being short-changed somehow. But, what if our significant other was truly endearing, loving and caring; what if they did everything we could ever ask for; what if they were always there for us when we needed them; what if they fulfilled every obligation they had towards us... would it still matter if they had someone else they thought of or someone else they spent time with?

We never care if our parents love two or four other siblings (okay, most of us don't care) so long as we were loved. We never care if our friends have other friends they care as much about as they do us. Then why is this love, between us and our significant other, so different?

Why does emotional and physical exclusivity matter so much in this relationship, even when it gives us all we require from it and more?

And when and why did society deem this form of possessiveness, this form of selfishness acceptable?

Perhaps there is a hidden virtue in this that isn't immediately apparent. I understand not all questions have answers. I suppose jealousy is that bit of our dark side that we just have to deal with every now and then.

blurb

I haven't written in a really long time. Apparently my mind doesn't function the way it used to. Or maybe most of my patience is used up in child-rearing and I have little left over for writing. I won't speak for anyone else but raising a child has certainly knocked the wind out of me. Or maybe raising MY SON is just a tad difficult than usual. Or maybe I'm just special.

So much swirls in my mind, so much I feel so strongly about, but when it comes to putting it to paper (or an online blog) it all comes out a mess. I can't organize my thoughts. It takes too long to make it look pretty for anyone else to read... or for myself to read for that matter. I have 11 "random Thoughts" sitting still in draft form. Often, I run out of time and what i began to write about isn't relevant any more.

When you raise a child you begin to look at the world very differently. Wonder and amazement go up a few notches, but so does fear. I've often thought about what I want my son to believe about life and the world we live in. I have found over the past couple of years I have become increasingly disheartened. The world has become a darker place than before but more than that, I have had to give up on my daydream world as I seek to prepare my son for the path he will walk ahead. I don't want him prancing around in a plush make-believe world and then fall hard to the ground when reality strikes. He doesn't live in the same world I did when I was little. I can't provide him the luxury of spinning protective cotton-candy wall around him, because reality is already hounding him. And my poor baby is barely 4.

I have given up on fairytales. I still believe in love, and I believe it can last forever, but I know that sooner or later loved ones will inevitably say or do something to hurt one another. I have found love to be more of a tragedy than a fairytale. Despite all we do for love, some will still walk away, and despite how many times they walk away, some of us will incorrigibly, incessantly and profoundly love them. Love raises the worst of the masochists and worst of the villains.

Trust... oh the sham of it! I wish the word didn't exist and we'd all live life with a lot less pain.

The world doesn't want to help, it wants to watch a spectacle. Is there a wonder reality shows are doing so well? No one has your best interest at heart... or anyone else's for that matter. Maybe your parents, but I think the newer generation of parents are increasingly self-absorbed and seek to feed there own interests and they might do so at the expense of their children. Doctors, scientists and psychologists us us as science experiments. They use us to observe the implications of their products and theories and to possibly draw up newer ones. It isn't about helping humanity any more. This isn't about improving the quality of life. It is about the art of science itself. It is how religion becomes more about the rituals than faith itself. The world has lost sight of its goal and gotten lost in the woodworks. Sort of like Wall-E. So mechanical and lost... The whole world has gone autisitic.

Ironic. April is autism awareness month. Talk shows, celebrities, magazines debate over possible causes but few consider the real problem... no one wants to help. Parents, caregivers, teachers, doctors, psychologists are more than ready to give or accept a label, but rather than looking for solutions, they mark it like a death sentence. 1 in 150 children are currently diagnosed with Autism spectrum disorders (ASD). And no one thinks maybe we're expecting too much of kids... maybe we need to let them grow on their own and nurture their strengths so they become healthy successful human beings. why are these kids diagnosed and then tossed aside as if there's nothing that can be done about them? Maybe because the world as a whole has become so self-absorbed, so indifferent to emotion and feeling, so obsessively indulgent and fascinated with science and observation - like the autistic child who plays for hours watching the wheels of his toy car spin round and around, and with categorizing, like the same child lining up his toys in neat straight lines - to really care.

Look around you. If the collective communties of the world were observed as an individual entity, you'd see all the signs of ASD pervasive and prevalent throughout. And this world seeks to outcast these beautiful minds without giving them a chance. Without giving them hope.

I don't know what to teach my son for I don't know what to think myself. I was always a dreamer and a believer. I am lost now. Perhaps that's why I can barely write any more.

I am lost, and my son is depending on me to lead him through this. In my heart of hearts, I am hoping that his spirit, his will, his obstinacy and determination, and his evolving imagination will draw a path for me to follow and take us out of this fog.

More of Felicity...

In order to add some flair to the Newsletter I make for the Spouse's Association of my husband's organization, I would sometimes have Felicity introduce my editorial notes on the first page and lead readers into what I hoped would be a pleasant reading experience. Below, find those glimpses of Felicity's world that appeared in the respective issues:

Spring (April-June) '05

"Sunlight peaked through dew-smitten branches of newborn leaves to plant a warm kiss on her cheek. A playful breeze tickled the wind chime above her and as Felicity brought herself to wakefulness, her lips took on a smile. The song of spring had come to melt her inhibitions and help her soar…"


Fall (October-December) '06

"The summer sun began its final descent towards the horizon, its gleaming sunrays leaving warm kisses as they slipped over the meadows and the tree tops. The leaves leapt to grasp that last bit of golden sunlight, turning shades of rust and copper. As the breeze sang its quiet goodbye and the stream let go of its gold shimmer, the sun gradually disappeared behind the purple hills, leaving the sky a canvas of pinks and reds.

She looked down to find one of her fallen beads with the reds, gold and rusts swirling within.

Just like that, she thought, autumn had come."


Winter (January-March) '07 - My last issue

"A gust of wind caught Felicity’s hair and sent her thick locks flying in all directions. It sent a rush of excitement through her and out poured a nice helping of brightly colored beads, some twirling on her hair tips before bouncing onto the grass below where they proceeded to roll around for a while. She stood there, at the edge of the forest, ready to step to the other side. Just then she heard the faint but familiar tinkle of a wind chime in the distance, and one of her squishy beads, swollen with emotion and memories crept down the side of her cheek. She took a deep breath, blew a kiss behind her and raced on to her new tomorrow. "

Daydream

For a moment she stood there mesmerized by it's translucent rainbow of colors; the way they danced as she rolled it around in her palm, taking one shape, then slipping into another.

The world is so pretty in there, she thought.

She would see him through these lucid rainbows, she recalled. He would hold her hand so gently as he led her through the thickness of the forest, being ever so careful with her dreams in the little pouch he clutched in his hand, making sure not to spill them as they climbed over hills or climbed down a tree. The warm words he whispered swaddled her against the harsh breeze. All fear abandoned her and she walked, sometimes with her eyes closed, her vulnerability manifest...

And sometimes she would believe it all to be true.