ASPER Normal

DS has a new diagnosis. Sort of.

After 15 hours of my darling boy’s time, during which he was test-battered by a PhD specialist, a speech therapist, an occupational therapist, counselors, teachers, administrators, and us, the Little Friends Center for Autism has announced that DS is PDD-NOS. This is, of course, identical to the diagnosis I received last fall. This time, though, the announcement comes with extra, and encouraging, data attached to it.

First, while he classifies as PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder-Not Otherwise Specified), he “presents” more like Asperger Syndrome, and a mild case at that. Asperger is sometimes nicknamed “Autism Light” or “The Little Professor Syndrome”, indicating that Asperger kids are often frighteningly brilliant, and take interest in all those subjects that typical kids loathe (science, math, engineering). Apart from their social quirks, they are considered, more or less, to be brilliant geeks.

It helps that they’re all so smart, so even though they lack the ability to read the nonverbal message cues that most of us learn automatically, their intelligence allows them to learn it all by rote, so they can fake their social skills and ‘pass’ for typical. And so it goes for DS. The doctor says he is very bright, has a phenomenal memory, and everything that challenges him can be handled through meticulous organization skills that eventually he’ll manage for himself. Visual schedules become written lists, which then become paper (or electronic) documents in his own personal planner when he’s old enough to manage one.

That’s my boy.

There will still be challenges, of course. He handles change pretty well at home, but poorly in the classroom. I expect that to continue, and for the school district to label it a behavior problem, rather than a function of his condition. But with this diagnosis at least, DS will be in the mainstream class and not sequestered in the ‘short bus’ classroom, with the schoolyard equivalent of a target painted on his Special Ed chest. It’s enough to make my PMS-induced hormone hysteria weep with joy.

He also hates it when people touch him without invitation, particularly if they sneak up on him or startle him. And he’s loud when he gets startled. Asperger kids don’t understand whispering, and so everything DS says, happens at the top of his voice. If I alert him to it, he’ll quiet down. But it’s impossible to reason with him if he’s been “accosted” by some well-meaning old lady who finds him too cute not to touch. Also, we can’t take him to WW meetings, since he simply cannot speak in a low voice. But these are things he needs to learn, and so it looks like we 3 (Howard, DS, and I) be working on a ‘meeting voice’.

The best part is, of all the Autism Spectrum Disorders, Asperger’s children are the most likely to go to college, get married, and live normal lives. And spectrum disorder ‘symptoms’ peak in the pre-school years and dissipate over time. So even though he’ll always ‘test out’ as an Asperger person, the symptoms will mellow with time, as his experiences and exposure teach him to read the social cues that most of us learn innately. He might always be socially awkward, and he might never be able to master the art of small talk. But I have to admit that, while these aren’t choices for him, there’s clearly an advantage to being able to bypass Cocktail Hour Speak and concentrate on Things That Matter.

So, there it is. Real, kinda frightening, but utterly manageable. And really, we’re in the worst of it right now. It all gets better from here.

Howard’s Mom, “Grandma Florida” has told me that she thinks DS will continue to improve as he ages, until eventually a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell that DS has “issues”. I wanted to believe that, but I didn’t dare. And now, of course, I can’t pretend that age and experience will ‘disappear’ these hurdles. But now, I think she might be right. He’s so much better than he was a year ago. He talks like crazy, and while he still confuses pronouns and his grammar construction is odd, he’s understandable. He’s also affectionate (just ask Grandpa Florida), attentive, empathic, and totally into his Rosen. The “boys” are building things together in the house and taking out the trash, and shouting at one another over whose turn it is during Candy Land marathons. From where I’m sitting it’s all looking pretty normal.

Well, ASPER normal. But I’ll take it. The diagnosis is the same, but the prognosis has hats & horns all over it. Maybe I’ll go home early so DS and I can spend the afternoon shouting out our joy.

A the R(elieved to be ASPER Normal)