J had a good but bad doctor appointment this morning.

We’ve returned to the GI clinic that saw him as a baby for help with his eating. He’s not gaining weight (again) and it’s just a struggle. His new GI doctor is fantastic. He has a cheerful disposition, is educated and understanding about autism and managed the to make a visit that was very frustrating to J as gentle as possible.

I could have talked to this doctor all day. It’s rare I meet a doctor like that!

Now, the doctor was fabulous but the clinic… not so much. The staff apart from the young lady who checked us in seemed like everything was overburdening, the nurses and assistants had no clue how to work with a kid dealing with sensory overload as J was and the building was HOT. Devil’s armpit hot.

Have I ever mentioned that J overheats easy? And doesn’t know what to do with it besides melt down?

Now pile that onto the fact we had to go for blood work and you realize we were destined to fail.

Picture if you will a closet in your home. Add to it some cabinetry and a table. Now stuff 4 adults and one screaming flailing child who doesn’t understand what’s happening into that closet. Turn the heat up to 90.

Then ask one of those adults, who has had some training, to get blood from the child.

This was what happened to us. It was HELL. The first phlebotomist was a damned nightmare. She DUG IN HIS ARM. Repeatedly. He was howling in sheer panic and I could not blame him. Then she complained she couldn’t get much and marched out. Thank God for the tech she brought back with her… That woman could get blood from a stone. She had him finished in no time. I wish she’d been the first to see him!

So after everyone involved lost 15 pounds of water weight we were done.

We went to Build a Bear, visited a play area, got donuts and came home. I am toast.


The title of this post refers to something that happened in the waiting room.

J does not sit still in waiting rooms. He moves around, stims, searches, explores. It is just how he operates to settle himself in an environment of uncertainty. My job is to make sure no one else gets bumped about. Today, he noticed a little girl who may have been close in age to him. She was in a stroller style wheelchair and smiled every time he looked her way.

He smiled back when  he caught her look and went over to sit beside her. Neither said anything. Neither needed to. They made a connection without words and merely enjoyed the presence of one another.

People spend a lot of time stressing “making” these kids talk in a conventional manner. I feel sad for them. They must not see how much they communicate without needing a single spoken word.