Ego, M.D.

Last night my friend Lisa and I went to what we hoped would be a positive panel discussion on autism. It was titled: "Marvelous Children: What We Know about Autism and What We Wish We Knew." My afternoon had been pretty rotten. When Liam's van driver dropped him off, she approached me with a confrontational stance. He had allegedly removed his shoes (still not sure why this is considered a crime) and his seatbelt. He repeatedly opened the window and hit the driver on the head while she was driving. I told him that even though he had "super day" on his behavior report, he would not earn Max and Ruby due to his tragic choices in the van.

At gymnastics, he removed his pants (because the shoes were already off?) and stood there laughing with his little penis flappin' in the breeze and his ass hanging out. He refused to do the routines by throwing himself on the floor and (still cackling) going limp like a 60s protester. The aide stood by helpless. I had to step in and literally drag him through the routines. My arms are still sore.

So I entered into this discussion panel truly hoping for the good news. Most of the seven panel members were MDs (one TRIPLE BOARD CERTIFIED!!) and very well-known statewide, if not nationally, for their work in autism research and treatment. I did not learn a lot of new information, except that your number of board certifications apparently directly correlates to how much time you are entitled to on the microphone. No one really spoke of any new treatments, with the exception of Stephen Edelson of the Autism Research Institute. The others treated his opinions with open disdain. Wouldn't it be funny if he was the one laughing in ten years?

Dr. Josh Feder provided the only mention of DIR, a therapy which focuses on engaging the child socially in order to facilliate communication and emotional/cognitive development.

The pediatrician on the panel, Dr. Stein, actually quoted the now-disproven statistic that "three-quarters of people with autism are also mentally retarded". We know now that when you test a non-verbal person with a verbal test, it may appear that they don't know the answers.

The discussion wound up with truly depressing predictions about this "autistic baby boom" growing up to find themselves incarcerated or institutionalized if things don't change. Not quite the good news I craved.

Lisa and I foraged out into the cold night air looking for food and drink, while trying to process what we'd seen and heard. The only restaurant nearby that was open, Bombay, had very good Indian food, nice ambience, cold chardonnay and Midnight Pomegranate-scented hand soap in the restroom. That was the best news I had gotten in a long time.