Diagnosis

Have you ever had the feeling that you needed someone to be your ears? Someone who can listen when you know you aren’t going to be able to comprehend the truth? 

I scheduled our visit to the pediatric neurologist. I knew I needed my sister, Christine, to come with me. I can’t remember if she met me there or if we drove together, but I vividly remember being in that office together.

It was an extremely kid-friendly office. Bright colors, toys, everything you would expect in a pediatric doctor’s office. I remember being taken back to the room where the doctor just watched Logan. He talked to me and tried to interact with Logan as he played. The doctor asked me questions about Logan. Does he play with others? No. Does he smile at you? Not much. Does he repeat movements? Yes, he walks in circles. Does he get upset at loud noises? Yes. What about foods, does he have issues with them? Yes. The neurologist was able to observe that he didn’t respond to his name, talk, or make eye contact. The list went on and on. Is change difficult? No sense of danger. Obsessive. It was like he already knew Logan and yet he had just met him.

I can’t remember the exact words, but I do remember “on the autism spectrum.” I have to admit it’s a little foggy after that. There is no miracle drug. We should start early intervention and use ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis). My head was getting more unclear. The doctor scheduled a 24-hour EEG to rule out Landau Kleffner Syndrome. And then he said, “You should get genetic testing done in case you plan on having more children.” I looked at him and said, “I’m three months pregnant.” He just looked at me and said “Ok.” 

My world was forever changed. I asked when we had to come back and was told we don’t need to. There is no treatment they can give Logan.

I don’t remember much more of that day. I remember getting the documents in the mail weeks later. At that point I was able to read through them. We went for the 24-hour EEG and that ruled out Landau Kleffner, so it was definitely Autism. I felt lost. Most of all, I felt sad for my perfect little boy. He didn’t look like he had autism. He looked like every other toddler. It was so deceiving. People would see him throw a tantrum in the store and think he was just bad. I knew he wasn’t bad, just a misunderstood little boy. He continues to be a misunderstood young man, but he can now express himself.

I think this is a good time to point out that I am a planner.  I need to know exactly what is going to happen tomorrow and 30 years from now. I can’t fly by the seat of my pants. So how was I supposed to plan the rest of my life if I had no clue what all of this meant? I had never heard any of these words before. How do I fix this? Now that I look back, I know there was nothing to fix. We could only learn and grow, TOGETHER, and that is exactly what we have done. We grew up together. We’ve been through really bad times together, but we’ve had some really wonderful experiences as well. We have met some people who should never be able to work with children, but we have also met the most kind, gentle people who have cared for Logan and the rest of our family. I have said so many times that this could be so much worse and it really could be. We are blessed, we are loved, and we are lucky.