Neurological TiVO

One not-so-endearing defining characteristic of autism is echolalia, or what I lovingly refer to as the broken record syndrome. (For those of you who never listened to a record, sometimes it would get scratched, causing the needle of the player to get stuck. The same word or phrase would repeat until you removed the needle.) Sometimes, that's what it's like to live with a person with autism.
Echolalia can take various forms. The person can repeat what you just said to them, they can replay parts of a movie, tv show, or real-life conversation, or something they just made up. For Liam, I think it happens for a variety of reasons. In a new or stressful situation, relying on echolalia or scripted language is a comfort to him. He doesn't know what to say, so he goes through his mental files (more about that later) and picks something that he thinks is appropriate. The other night, as he was lying in bed, I overheard him kind of babbling and then say very clearly "You assholes." I found Rob. "Did you hear what Liam just said?"I asked him.
"Yes," he answered, shaking his head in confusion.
"Well, do you know where he got that?"
"No."
"Do you ever say it in the car?"
"No."
"Oh. I do."
"Mystery solved."
I had read accounts from adults with autism who've said their brain is like a DVR. One day I asked Liam, "Can you watch movies in your head?" "Yeah," he said, "I have a button." I probed him more about this and was able to discover that he can't "watch" events from real life, only movies and he has to have seen them more than once. Often when he seems to be "out of it" or disconnected from our world, he is actually watching a movie on his brain TiVO. Repeating phrases from these movies is either compulsive or comforting to him.
Many times, Liam will perseverate on a topic or question. He has a repertoire of favorites. "What's for dinner?" is one. As many times as you can answer, he can keep asking, becoming increasingly agitated with each round. My sister and I used to joke about an autistic Elmo doll. Every time you pull the string, it says, "What's for dinner?"
One solution that's worked really well for us is using lists or pictures. For instance, one of his favorite topics to get stuck on is dogs--his current favorite obsession. He runs through a list of all the dog breeds he knows, asking if he's allergic to each one. I finally, out of sheer desperation, wrote a list of dog breeds with a "yes" or "no" next to each one. Now, when he starts asking me I tell him to get his list. He gets it, looks it over, and he's done. Hearing something is not as effective for him as seeing it.
The positive part of all this is that, like most people on the spectrum, Liam has an amazing memory. He's told me details from years ago that have shocked me in their clarity. The question is: how do we use this skill to help him? For instance, sometimes with Liam, it's better for him to feed him facts to memorize than try to give him the underlying theory. I'm starting to think that's the only way he's going to learn math. He's very good at spelling, because all he does is memorize the words. He's probably visualizing them in his head.
My hope is that more researchers focus on these skills to help people with autism learn and interact more effectively in a non-autistic world.