I just read your August issue about the autistic teenager and the “violent, unpredictable man” that those pills turned him into [“Crazy”]. I am not writing to make any kind of stand on medicating autistic or ADHD kids. To be honest, I’m not really a fan of pills for kids (other then those that are seriously, medically needed). But sometimes they are needed, and often they are helpful.
I want to say that most of the stories I read and the things that I see on TV are about high-functioning autistic children. Sometimes I feel that children like my son just disappear. Maybe they don’t look good on film? I know that trying to interview him would drive a journalist insane. He’s ten, but he has only one word and he only uses it when he’s with me. That word is mamamama. I think it’s a word. (I understood when he was maybe five that he’d probably never be able to tell me that he loved me. I’ll take that mamamama, even when it comes with a bite or a pinch.)
All the focus on the kids at the high end of the autistic spectrum makes me wonder if there are no other kids like my angel. (But I know that’s not the case.)
You did a story about a higher-level functioning autistic child. Please, can you do one about a child like mine—a ten-year-old with a two-year-old’s mind? One out of every 150 children is now being diagnosed with some level of autism. This is becoming a huge thing. At least some of those children will be like mine. And when their parents die, who’s going to be taking care of them?
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