"Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself alone, one question... Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't it is of no use."
Carlos Castaneda
I had a great conversation with Cale’s new pediatric psychiatrist this morning. We had been waiting for three months to get in to see her, and we almost left before our appointment because we found out that she isn’t a preferred provider for our insurance (which means that, if we use her, we’ll be facing a $6000 deductible for the year). But we figured that since we had already been waiting for three months, and since we were actually there, we may as well at least stay for our appointment. And we may be able to ask our insurance company for an exception, since the only psychiatrist in town who is “a preferred provider” isn’t a pediatric psychiatrist. Shit. It’s always something, isn’t it?
Anyway, the conversation was about how silly it is to group all children with Autism into one category. We talked about some of the known subcategories that are currently under the Autism Spectrum umbrella - Asperger’s syndrome, Fragile X with Autistic Symptoms, Autism with a profound neurological component (accompanied by seizures or other involuntary body movements), and the possible Autism gene coupled with an environmental assault.
She explained that as we grow more sophisticated in our knowledge about and treatment of Autism, that these subcategories will probably each become classifications of their very own, and that the fact that we still call them all “Autism Spectrum Disorder” is actually quite primitive.
There are also subcategories under the “Autism gene with an environmental assault” theory (which is what I think my children have) – the first of which is that there is no environmental assault at all, that it’s simply genetic and that there’s nothing that can be done about it. Then come all the theories about what the environmental assault might be – birth trauma (bones out of place in the spine or bones out of place in the skull (which I’ve heard that cranial sacral therapy helps)), diet, vaccines, heavy metal and/or other chemical toxicity, etc., which might cause immune dysfunction, allergies, nutritional deficiencies, nutritional imbalances, digestive problems, toxin overload, energy imbalance, the list goes on and on and on.
And no one knows, of course, whether the Autism causes the problem or the problem causes the Autism (which comes first, the chicken or the egg). In fact, no one even claims to know for sure if any of these things have anything to do with the Autism at all.
It’s kind of sad actually, because everyone just wants to share what they’ve learned about their own kids that might help others. However, I’ve seen differences in opinion on these matters split whole Autism parent support groups right in two. This conversation with the psychiatrist started as a result of her asking me whether or not I attend an Autism parent support group. I should really look into that again. And if there isn’t one in town here where everyone “plays nice” then who knows, maybe I’ll start one.
This conversation got me worrying about my recent blogposts, in that I may be giving the impression that what’s right for my kids might be right for all children with Autism. Please don’t take it that way. If there’s one thing that’s become clear to me in delving into all of this “natural healing” stuff, it’s that the “natural healers,” the ones I’ve been gaining experience with anyway, don’t clump diseases (or people) into convenient categories at all.
My healer won’t even call my children Autistic. She calls them “Isabel” and “Cale.” Even the old psychic she’s had me reading about didn’t clump diseases. He dealt with one person, and his/her own specific problems, at a time. He also provided very different solutions for each and every single one of thousands of different individuals over the course of his lifetime. Actually categorizing people under specific diseases seems to be a rather foreign concept to these people. Okay. Now that we’ve got all of that cleared up, here’s the scoop regarding Cale.
My healer has been telling me, for a few weeks now, that she’d like to see us take Cale off of his psychiatric medication because it, along with his diet, is making his body “toxic.” She keeps telling me that this toxicity is causing his head to hurt all the time, that it has something to do with muscle tension in the neck and teeth, and that this muscle tension is also cutting off nerve supply to the hypothalamus which is causing his body to crave sugar.
She eventually became so concerned about it that she actually called and asked if she could come over to our house and talk to us (Shane and me) about it. We set aside the time of course, and she sat in our living room for almost two hours and tried every course of conversation that she could think of to get us to agree to taking Cale off of this medication. She also told us that this would only work (that we would only be able to control Cale’s extreme ADHD symptoms) if we took him off of all sugar. Then she went on and on about how poisonous sugar is for both Isabel and Cale, and provided us with sugar substitute options and some possible natural ADHD solutions (she’d done her homework).
After almost two hours of persuasion, I still wasn’t thoroughly convinced about the psychiatric medication thing. So she used her very last resort and said something about this medication “breaking his spirit,” to which I couldn’t help this rather defiant response (inside my own head of course), “Listen. I have to live with him. Not you. And if he has to have a broken spirit so that the rest of us can live in peace, SO BE IT.”
After she went home, I looked at Shane and said, “Now, you need to look at me and tell me honestly. Do you think she’s crazy?”
He looked at me and responded, “Absolutely.”
“Now,” he continued, “you need to look at me and tell me honestly. Would you have her any other way?”
“No!” I laughed, “I guess I wouldn’t!”
Shane never wanted Cale on this medication in the first place, so he was on board with my healer immediately. Nobody else, however, liked the idea of Cale coming off of this medication. Shane’s sister (who has two sons with Autism) sprouted warnings. And my mom (who’s a shrink – I like to call her a shrink because it makes her cringe) sprouted warnings. And I really wasn’t sure what to do. I went back and forth with it for a couple of weeks before I finally had a dream about it. And in this dream, I came to my own heart’s conclusion.
In the dream, a person whom I trust was doting on me (it was a guy of course – I have no doubt that there was a wish fulfillment component in there somewhere!). We were at a retreat at this hotel, and this guy that I trust took me out into a cave behind the hotel.
All of my friends were in the cave, smiling and telling me that they love me and telling me that it was going to be okay. Then, the person that I trust handed me a joint. And because I trust him, and because everyone else was encouraging this, I took a hit off of this joint. Now, I should tell you here that I was never one who could stand pot. I was more of a beer with a martini chaser (or vise versa) kind of person. However, the person that I trust only gave me one hit. So it wasn’t enough to get me uncomfortably high, yet it was just enough that I wasn’t exactly sober either.
Afterwards, I studied everyone’s faces and proceeded to wait for something bad to happen. However, after I’d had my little hit, everyone else was able to relax. And we all spent the remainder of our time in the cave chatting and laughing and having a good time. It didn’t degenerate into anything yucky or anything like that. In fact, it didn’t turn bad by any stretch of the imagination. It stayed really nice. It wasn’t a bad dream at all. It was really a very nice dream. The only problem was, I HAD JUST SMOKED POT!
I think that I experienced this dream from Cale’s perspective. I think that, in the dream, the “person that I trust” was actually representing me (the doter, the person that Cale trusts). And I think that I was representing Cale (the one being doted on, the one being given a drug). And I think that my friends in the cave were representing Cale’s family, teachers, therapists, and doctors – everyone in his life. And the pot, of course, was representing his medication (given to me by someone that I trust, everyone encourages it, not too much, not too little, my taking it causes everyone around me to relax, and nothing bad happens as a result of it, but which leaves me feeling like I’m not who I really am (sober).
Now, I really think that the timing of this particular dream had as much, if not more, to do with it than any supposed subconscious values that this dream may imply, because I actually have nothing, what-so-ever, against psychiatric medication, or any other drugs for that matter. In fact, I absolutely do not believe that there is a right or a wrong answer on such matters. I believe that everyone has to come to their own heart’s conclusion about such things, and that no one else can possibly ever know the right answer for somebody else. This issue is as private and as personal and as idiosyncratic as an issue can possibly get.
I once befriended a woman who was diagnosed with Bipolar, and I gave her the impression that I was against psychiatric medication. I’m not sure if she messed with her medication after this or not, or if the impression I gave her even had anything to do with it. All I do know is that, shortly after hearing all of my stupid and uneducated thoughts, she went home and slit her own throat. She survived, thank God. But another friend of mine went through this exact same scenario with a friend of his once, with the exact same result. Only his friend didn't survive. I’ll always live with these things in the back of my mind, so I tend to be very careful with this. Just because something is truly right for one person absolutely does not mean that it's truly right for another. My firm opinion is, and always will be, to let the doctors do their job.
Well, that’s what I decided to do. I decided that I would simply ask Cale’s new psychiatrist if it would be okay with her if we took Cale off of his medication. Actually, I called Cale’s old psychiatrist in Phoenix first, who agreed to let me lesson the dosage, but who told me that I needed to have the new psychiatrist here in Montana be the one to decide whether or not to take him off of it entirely. And, like I said, we almost didn’t go in to our appointment with the new psychiatrist. And I’m not even entirely sure that we’ll be seeing her again (it’ll depend on our insurance company).
I had already decided against telling this new psychiatrist that my healer thinks that I should take Cale off of his medication because it might be “breaking his spirit.” But I did tell her, when she asked me what my most immediate concern was, that Cale grinds his teeth really hard all the time, and that I’m really afraid he’s going to fracture a molar or two.
Well, she happened to be the daughter of an oral surgeon, so she immediately told me that one of the side effects of his medication is muscle tension, particularly in the neck, with sometimes quite severe jaw pain. She said, and I kid you not, “his head probably hurts all the time, particularly in his jaw. And since he’s nonverbal and can’t tell you that his head hurts, he’s probably trying to relieve the pain by grinding his teeth.”
I didn’t even have to ask. She wants him off this medication as quickly as safely possible. However, since it’s an anti-psychotic, and since he’s currently on the maximum amount that they would give a teen-ager (Cale is five and a half), he has to be tapered off of it rather slowly. It’s going to take about a month and a half, but we have already begun the process. And since Cale was so calm during our entire appointment (as I’d had him off of sugar ever since the conversation with my healer), the psychiatrist told me that she really wants to see how Cale does without any medication for awhile.
You know? If I hadn’t first heard the idea of taking Cale off of his medication from my healer, I never would’ve had the dream. And if I had never had the dream, I have no doubt that I would’ve given the new psychiatrist my rather defiant response of, “Listen. I have to live with him. Not you. And if he has to have a sore jaw so that the rest of us can live in peace, SO BE IT.” I really don’t think that I would’ve been very open to it. But now, how can I really argue? Especially since none of the advice has been contradictory. Instead I think I need to thank God, one more time, for his uncanny timing of these events.
Unfortunately, the psychiatric medication ordeal was the easy part. Changing my son’s diet has been the real issue. I mean, have you ever tried to change the diet of an Autistic Child? Autism parents (and some regular parents too) might now be thinking, “Ah-HAH! NOW she’s finally getting to the REAL issue.” Because it’s one thing to know what a child with Autism should be eating. But it’s an entirely different thing to get them to actually eat it.
There are so many dietary suggestions for how to heal the gut – lots of lettuce, carrots, and celery “to keep the body alkaline,” and “remember that carbohydrates also covert to glucose (sugar) in the body (so avoid them)” and “the best natural product to eliminate yeast is olive oil and garlic” and “the YES foods - Enjoy them! (with a list the length of Mars that my son wouldn’t touch, let alone eat, to save his own life).”
My son requires feeding therapy, but since our insurance company doesn’t cover any autism therapies, I can’t get it for him. And I, unfortunately, am not a feeding therapist. The other thing I am not, and never will be, is a cook.
I’ve read lots and lots and LOTS about what kinds of foods I should be feeding Cale (complete with simple recipes and everything), but NOWHERE does it tell me how I’m supposed to actually get these foods down his throat. There have only been a few people that I can think of, throughout all of history, who might’ve deserved such a task – people like Caligula, Cortez, Hitler, Stalin, Bush:) The only thing I can think of is that I must’ve been one of these people in a former life, and that God is now exacting his revenge.
I think I’m going to need an Autism parent support group for this one.
