Tag Archives: Asperger’s Syndrome

Funny Moment

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Gus brought home a Level 1 transition form, which basically looks at his “interests and abilities” in preparation for steering him toward a career. The exchange I just had with him made me think of the form.

I touched my nose to Gus’s and said good night as I always do.

“Your nose is warm,” I said.

“I know.”

“Mine is cold.”

“What are the odds?”

He was completely deadpanned, but I caught the crooked smirk he was trying to hide. The kid has a quick wit and incredible timing. If he doesn’t grow up to be a comedian, I will think something will be very wrong with the world. I think that’s what I’ll write on the form.

Book Review: Marcelo in the Real World

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Author: Francisco X. Stork

Summary

Marcelo Sandoval is a 17-year-old young man with an unspecific cognitive disorder similar to Asperger’s Syndrome. His father makes him take a summer job in his law firm’s mailroom. If Marcelo succeeds, he can finish his last year of high school at the private school he has attended. If he does not succeed, Marcelo has to go to public school for his last year. As he learns to navigate the social minefield of the “real world,” he finds himself in the middle of a legal drama, faced with tough and sometimes dangerous choices.

Review:

Overall, I enjoyed this book a great deal. Stork’s prose is spare, but impressively tight. He conveys complex emotion and vivid imagery without a lot of bloat. The plot is well constructed and moves along at a pace that holds the reader’s attention. The characters are mostly well done, although this is where my main issue originates.

My one problem with the book comes down to characters. Marcelo has a unique and engaging voice. Stork, by refusing to commit to the Asperger’s or any other diagnosis for the character, cheats a little so that Marcelo can behave inconsistently at times. At the end of the day, I was able to live with that inconsistency and chalk it up to his character growing in fits and starts.

The character of Arturo was another story for me. I found myself hating Marcelo’s father and not being able to believe him. He is an ivy-league trained, high-powered lawyer, but he makes moronic decisions and forces them on his son. It is one thing to challenge your child, but I have a hard time buying that a parent would intentionally put his son into demeaning and potentially dangerous situations without warning or preparation. Moreover, there doesn’t seem to be a good reason for some of Arturo’s behavior. On Marcelo’s first day of work, he is ready, but Arturo refuses to leave until the last possible minute forcing them to have to rush for their train. Now, this could have been Arturo’s way of desensitizing Marcelo to the possibility of not being able to always leave on time. Sometimes you are rushed. But why wouldn’t he just explain that to him? What is the point of trying to teach a lesson if it’s just going to hang there between them? Arturo struck me as someone smarter and more conscientious than that. I found his behavior toward Marcelo to be extreme, mean and contrived most of the times he appeared in the story. With more development, I may have found him less offensive. Perhaps Stork meant for him to be offensive.

Despite all that, Stork really pushed my buttons, which is what successful writing does. I’d rate this story lower if I hadn’t felt anything reading it. Granted, I wasn’t reading through a remotely objective lens. Even though I found the story painful to read at times, and I had a hard time not seeing my own son’s face when I pictured Marcelo, I was glad to have had the experience. Marcelo in the Real World certainly evokes questions, some of which I am still trying to answer for myself.

Rating:

3/5 – recommended

Teaching Kids on the Autism Spectrum to Swallow Pills

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Originally published June 14, 2010: Back when we tried Gus on Strattera, one of the biggest problems we had was just getting the medication down his throat.  At that point he was about 7 and couldn’t swallow the capsules, so I used the strategy of breaking it open and mixing it into applesauce.  The taste was so godawful, though, that he could only barely choke it down.  All the gagging was traumatic.  Within about 2 weeks, he started refusing to take it.  Even after we stopped the meds, he wouldn’t eat applesauce for a long time.

That particular medication didn’t work out for a number of reasons, but on occasion he still has to take something, allergy medication for example.  This probably doesn’t seem like a big deal.  After all, allergy medications come in childrens’ liquid forms or chewables.  The problem is that children’s medications can be more expensive than their adult, yucky tasting, counterparts, which can also be purchased in dollar-saving bulk.  It seemed to me that this would be a good time for him to learn to swallow pills.

Looking around online, I found some advice, like these Pill Swallowing Tips from About.com, on the best way to accomplish this, but many of the suggestions didn’t work.  He will take a crushed up pill in applesauce for a short period of time, but the taste is so bad that soon he can’t stomach it.  The one trick I that’s worked best for us has been putting a whole, small pill in a spoonful of applesauce.  That way he doesn’t really see, feel or taste it.  Yogurt would probably work just as well for him.

At some point in time we may try medication for Gus again.  Also, we give him a fish oil supplement daily, and it would make him happier, I’m sure, if he could just swallow a capsule instead of the liquid.  Hopefully, this will be a way for him to make that transition.  For now, he’s content.

Update 12/1/2011: Gus started taking Intuniv over the summer, and it seems that our prep work paid off. He swallows the tablets with water, with no problems. He is also finally taking those fish oil capsules like a champ.

An Evening with Jesse Saperstein, Author

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Originally published 5/19/2010: Last night I had the pleasure of listening to a talk given by Jesse Saperstein, author of Atypical: Life with Asperger’s in 20 1/3 Chapters.  Mr. Saperstein spoke about some of his challenges growing up on the spectrum as well as how he’s fared as an adult with Asperger’s.  He was candid and engaging when recounting his difficulties with transitions, the awful time he had in college, dating and even the occasional inability to keep a job.  Yet, he never gave the impression that his life was all bad.  As a matter of fact, he said that there were times when it was rather amazing.  For example, right after college, he hiked the entire 2000 + miles of the Appalachian Trail.

I was very impressed with this young man’s wisdom and took some of his advice to heart.  He stressed the need for parents of children on the spectrum to accustom our kids to managing without aides in different environments.  To paraphrase: once they walk through that door after high school, all that support disappears.  Mr. Saperstein also advised that we let out children have as many ‘mainstream’ activities as they can handle, let them experience failure in order to learn from the process and to make sure that they understand that their behavior has consequences.  A strong work ethic instilled early on is absolutely essential if our kids are to succeed as adults, and while this is true for everyone, it is doubly true for individuals with social disabilities.

I look forward to reading and reviewing Atypical.  I just purchased it so the review will be soon.  If the book comes anywhere close to being as funny, honest and hopeful as Mr. Saperstein is in person, it will be an incredible read.

Update 12/1/2011: I highly recommend Jesse’s book, Atypical. He is a fascinating individual with an honest and unique voice. He displays a sharp wit, but also moments of vulnerability. This book is an excellent and quick read that sheds a good deal of light on what it is like to grow up with Asperger’s.

Morning Haiku

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Towel in toilet.

Kid in the washing machine.

Why did I get up?

And amidst all this chaos (there’s been much more; those were just the two highlights) Gus just gives me the biggest grin.  I can’t help but laugh.

After brushing his teeth, he looks for a towel to dry his hands and face.

“There’s no towel because you threw it in the toilet.”

“I dropped it in the toilet…Haven’t you ever heard of an accident?  Duh?”

So to sum up: breakfast was a big bowl of chaos with a side of snark.

Good morning!

 

*image from cksinfo.com

Imperfection

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Penned in by the idea of perfection?

“The fastest way to break the cycle of perfectionism and become a fearless mother is to give up the idea of doing it perfectly – indeed to embrace uncertainty and imperfection.”

Arianna Huffington, Editor-in-Chief, Huffington Post

I sometimes catch myself feeling that I am the only person, the only parent, who just never seems to ‘get it right.’  That is, of course, a ridiculous, self-indulgent idea.  Just like it’s pretty silly to imagine I’m the only parent who has ever been too cross or too busy or too tired to be as good a parent as I aspire to be.  It would make better sense to wonder where that parent is who doesn’t second guess every other action,  reaction,  decision; who doesn’t beat herself (or himself) up for every screw-up because she doesn’t screw up.  In being the parent of a child with special needs, I think we tend to ramp the pressure up on ourselves even more.  After all, our kids have a hard enough time without us adding to the challenge.  Yet, I don’t recall receiving a Perfect Parent Handbook when Gus was born or when he was diagnosed.   Perfection is unattainable, and it’s important to learn to move on, because mistakes are inevitable.  Not only are they inevitable, but they are an essential aspect of the discovery process.  As the cinematographer Conrad Hall said, “There is a kind of beauty in imperfection.”

How ironic is it that I’d be the first person to advocate for acceptance of my autistic child

with all his imperfections – he is who he is – but it’s damn near impossible for me to automatically extend that same concession to myself?  Now there’s an interesting nugget to chew on.

Do you find it hard to move past a mistake you’ve made with your child?

*image by Tony Wills used under Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike License 3.0