Autism Part 5

We have recently been asked by our insurance company if Nicholas is considered disabled. I was not sure how to respond to that question. I mean, I know what his diagnosis is and I know it is something he'll face forever, not something he will grow out of. But disabled? I choked back the tears that evidently are evidence of my changing hormones since they now come so frequently and easily. It seems I am entering a new season in life, if you will. But I choked on the lump in my throat and proceeded to tell the unsuspecting lady all the wonderful things Nicholas CAN do. Her purpose of the call had nothing to do with weather or not our son could build "amazing" Lego creations or that he can line up his cars and trains to an exact right angle or that even though he cannot communicate in sentences or sing his ABC's, that he CAN tell you what letter magnet you are pointing to on the fridge AND most of the time, it looks like he is not even LOOKING! "I believe he's like psychic or something," I told the lady.

"Well, isn't that nice. But is he disabled?" She wanted to know. I told her I wasn't sure. Aren't all three and a half years olds, "disabled?" I asked. I mean, none of the three and a half year olds I know, know how to fully take care of themselves. Most of them still poop in their pants on occasion and miss their mouths when eating spaghetti. "Really, all three years olds are still pretty retarded if you ask me," I said.

There's that R word. In some respects, Nicholas, my beautiful little boy, is considered retarded. Slow to learn, developmentally delayed, behind his peers, however you want to say it. But I am retarded at certain things too. I can't really grasp physics or spell worth a crap without spell- check. But I have other gifts, and so does Nicholas. I try to just focus on the things he CAN do. He is pretty amazing and I do believe he is psychic.

I have no problem sharing with my friends and family about the journey we are walking through the maze of autism, but to say my son is "disabled," I cannot do. I can read his reports from speech therapists that he is over a year behind and explain to people at the park why Nicholas is so weird. Why he flaps his arms and spins around a lot. And when he sees other children his age, why he goes nuts laughing his head off in their faces and touches them to the point of being annoying.

But to outwardly admit that he is "disabled" sucks the hope right out of my soul. And I cannot do that. It is hope that gets me through the day. It is hope that opens my eyes to my son's future, one where he will not just be "functioning" but thriving. It is why we drop him off with my mother (who is a true angel on earth) on Sunday nights and he stays with her until Tuesday evenings so he can go to Challenged Child and Friends. It is why we have immersed ourselves into learning sign language. It is why we will take him to a barn to ride horses for Hippo Therapy. It is why we have his daily care down to a science to avoid too many freak outs and blunderous temper tantrums. If we didn't have hope, we wouldn't bother with any of this. I guess we'd just settle for a "disabled" kid and not let talk of early intervention and setting up appointments with experts dominate our conversations.

So, after a rather long conversation with our insurance lady, I finally said, "Nicholas is ABLED. He has challenges, like we all do. I don't know what the future will be like because in reality, as he grows older, he becomes less and less like his peers his own age. As he gets older, it seems he gets quirkier. But I still am full of hope, so don't take that away by sticking him with some lable. Nicholas is Nicholas. He is not Autism or Pervasive Developmental Delay. Once you've met one autistic, child, you have met one autistic child. They are all different. Nicholas is special. I hope that answers your question. Have a nice day."