Big Daddy Autism

I received a nice sized check in the mail the other day. Unfortunately it was not a royalty check from sales of my extraordinarily funny book. Nope, it was a refund from our state run prepaid college plan. I cried when I saw it.  The only time in my life that I’ve cried while holding a large check made payable to me.

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When Griffin was born (Lil Sis too) we dutifully signed him up for the aforementioned state run prepaid college plan. I paid it in a lump sum and went on to dream about that day I would see him stroll across the stage at the University of Florida (sorry Canes and ‘Noles) and wave at me as he grabbed his diploma and embarked on his adult life.

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It has been several years since we’ve known that this dream was just that, a dream. It has long been apparent that Griffin would not being going to college.  Several weeks ago, we made it official. I contacted the state and with the support and assistance of Griffin’s team (Psychiatrist, Psychologist, Social Worker ….) I requested the refund. Done.

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He’s going on 16. I have no idea what his adult life will be like. But at this point, we know it doesn’t include Frat parties and a B.A. from a major university.

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This has been a long time coming. We have talked about this for years and we have no doubt this decision was the right one for Griffin and the rest of the family. He is just as happy today as he was the day I applied for the refund.  We love him just as much as ever and look forward to what his future holds. He may still be destined for world changing greatness. But he won’t be a member of UF’s class of 2020.

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The check is out of my hands and in our bank. But it still hurts. My heart is still a little broken.

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Friday night is usually pizza night at Casa de Big Daddy.  Griffin, of course, knows this and starts to think (and talk) about it early every Monday morning.  Last Friday, when Griffin arrived home after school he began moaning:

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“I am STARVING!!!!”

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To me this just seemed like his way of signalling it was time to call the pizareria. Concerned, Mrs. Big Daddy replied:

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“Why are you starving?”

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Griffin quickly responded in a matter of fact fashion:

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“I have been starving myself all day because we are having pizza tonight?”

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At this point the conversation became a bit surreal.  Kafka and Dali would be proud:

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MRS BD:  “Didn’t you eat breakfast at school?”

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Griffin: “Yep!  Doubles of breakfast burritos!”

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MRS BD: “And what about lunch?”

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Griffin:  “Cheeseburger, double fries and a smoothie!!! It was good.”

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MRS BD: Didn’t I just see you inhale a bag of Doritos about five minutes ago.

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Griffin:  “Yep.  And some water”

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MRS BD: “If you’ve already had breakfast burritos (doubles), lunch, a smoothie and a bag of chips, how is that considered ‘starving yourself’ and why are you so hungry at 4:00?”

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Griffin: “Because we are having pizza tonight!”

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Duh! Not even Aristotle could argue with that logic

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It’s times that like that I know the kid (at least his appetite) is mine and he makes me proud.

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As I write this, Hurricane Isaac has passed us.  Luckily, we only got hit with the tropical storm winds and rains associated with the outer bands of the tremendous storm that is presently bearing down on the Panhandle of Florida and, ugh, New Orleans.  By the time you read this, I hope the storm has moved over these areas with very little carnage.   Although the storm itself caused very little property damage in our slice of heaven down here in the tropics, we certainly had our share of drama inside Casa de Big Daddy.

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As I’ve mentioned on this blog and in my books ad nauseam, Griffin is obsessed with the weather and terrified of thunderstorms.  That is why he was eerily silent in the week the storm looked to be approaching us.  He also handled our usually wet summer and the early onset of the aforementioned tropical wind and rains over the weekend fairly well.

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Mind you, when I say “fairly well” I mean;

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*Long periods locked in his room with the Weather Channel blaring on his TV and computer and Jimmy Neutron episodes playing on an endless loop on his iTouch,

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*Relatively few (yet manageable) tantrums,

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*With triple head-phoned protection.  (iTouch earbuds covered by Kermit the Frog kiddie headphones, with construction grade Jackhammer ear protection over the contraption.)

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But then it happened.  Last night, around 8:30 PM, after being battered by rain, wind, lighting, and thunder for a day and half, the lights flickered twice and the cable went out for about a half a minute.  Calm and sort-of peaceful Griffin snapped! Like the Hulk, the monster was released and we were treated to hours of the most intense tantruming the boy has given us in over a decade.

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Many parents of kids on the spectrum can probably relate.  When I looked in his eyes, I could not see my boy any longer.  All I saw was a raging 15 year old 170 pound man / boy terrified, crying, screaming, flailing, stomping, rocking and begging for us to go to a hotel.   We’ve survived these before but this was a big one.  Like FEMA and the American Red Cross, we have an emergency protocol we put in place for these types of Griffin Disasters.

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Category One:  We try to get his anti-anxiety meds in him.

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Category Two:  We spend an hour or so trying reason and calming techniques.

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Category Three:  When both those fail, we resort to negative consequences such as telling him he can’t watch TV or surf the web.  If those don’t work, then we pretty much need to find a way to ride it out.  We thought of going to an emergency shelter without him, but decided that would be unfair to the cats and neighbors.

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Category Four: Like Hurricane Andrew 20 years ago, this tantrum made it to a Cat 4. This is when we bring out the last resort.  We ignore him.  We try to pretend that a huge human being is not running around our comfortably lit and air-conditioned house as though his hair was on fire and the Navy Seals 6 Team was storming the exits ready to take him out like a terrorist.

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This, my friends is even harder than it sounds.  Forgetting, for a moment the damage to all our ears and the occassional pinching of our torsos, when you need to go to the refrigerator or bathroom there would be a huge lump of crying autistic boy to be jumped over or maneuvered around.  Whenever there was a moment or two of eerie silence, you’d look up and the boy would be lurking around the corner waiting for anyone to make eye contact with him again so he can descend into madness with an audience.  He quickly turned on his sister – barraging her with a hurricane facts and pleas for her to take him to a hotel.  After patiently and calmly reminding him that she was only 12 and had neither a credit card nor driver’s license about 600 times, Lil Sis too moved into Cat 4 –Ignore Mode.

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Finally, as the real Isaac still raged outside, about 4 or 5 hours into his tantrum, Griffin fell asleep.  This morning he woke up, all smiles as if nothing happened.  That is life with Griffin.  Beautiful tropical weather most of the year with the occasional monster storm thrown in to remind us of what our lives really are.   A roller coaster in the dark.

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