I was reassured that he was not autistic and he would out grow most of the signs I was noticing.
At the age of 3, Zane had his first Grand mal seizure. He came to me on the couch and gently touched my shoulder as he fell into my lap with eyes rolled back and body shaking rigidly. I immediately rolled him on his side and tried to comfort him as I carried him directly to the car and rushed to the er. He would soon after be diagnosed with epilepsy, and that medical journey that many of us must endure continues to be our darkest hours.
It wasn’t until I found a development pediatrician thanks to the advice of a dear childhood friend, that I started to get my answers…. I made the appointment really to discuss the damage and challenges seizures causes. However, once there with the doctor, she challenged me on the fact that I needed a diagnosis for zane. The she believed he was autistic or at the least aspergers. I sat there in shock…. Because if you knew how many specialists, teachers, care givers, therapists, doctors… how many times I asked, no begged, for help and answers…. I was not expecting someone to finally tell me why I had been told no so many times. So I cried. And cried. And was so angry. I felt betrayed like so many had let Zane down. Like we wasted precious time when all along could have been making a difference in his life. The developmental pediatrician asked, “didn’t you have an ADOS (Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule) test?” And I said “I have no idea. They (meaning the county, meaning the therapists, the doctors) have given Zane so many tests, they must have tested for autism?!?”
She answered…. “no” “it has to be a neuro psychologist” and I am thinking “why has no one said anything? And how is a parent supposed to know this?!?”
So…. Within a week, I had my ADOS in my hand.
Zane had autism.