Houston, we have a provisional diagnosis.

[eurydicebound]

Today we went to the doctor with Alisdair. Specifically, we went to the ASTAR Center, which deals specifically with autism diagnosis and various helping therapies. We spent about two hours with the doctor, discussing Alisdair's history, his issues, all the paperwork we brought along, all the things we're worried about, his strengths and weaknesses, etc. David and I both went so as to better give input. Happily, he seemed to get what we were talking about, and all the testing we'd had done at least let us take a short cut through some of the potential paperwork.

The end result? A provisional diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome to be followed up with additional autism-specific testing in a couple of weeks to pin it down for certain. We have some suggestions as to therapies and activities we can try that may very well help, and a follow up scheduled for the end of the summer.

This is really the news I'd been hoping for. This will almost certainly give me the sheet of paper I need to get him the help in school that he needs, and will make things a lot easier. It's a good clinic where they have a ton of experience in dealing with this. The head doctor is a neurologist, which again cuts through a lot of bullshit, and it also means that if medication ends up being necessary (apparently some ADD medications can help with sensory overload/mental processing stuff and some anxiety meds help with outbursts, even though nothing treats the problem directly), he can prescribe them and knows something about what he's suggesting.

So if this is what I was hoping for, why do I feel so sad?

Comments

[trollbabe.livejournal.com]

Because the answer which we know is the right one is not always the one we want, in our heart of hearts.

He's your baby. He's a big boy now, but he's still your baby. And you want him to be perfect. Not for your sake, but for his. Because life is easier if you're starting from "perfect" than if you're starting from "ADD" or "Asperger's" or even just "Allergic to jam." And Asperger's is, while certainly something he can live with, a bit more serious than "allergic to jam."

It's okay to grieve, a little bit. It's okay to go, "Dammit, I know life is not fair, but that didn't stop me from wanting it to be unfair in my son's favor."

He'll be okay. And you'll be okay. But it's okay to be a little sad, for now.

[anaka.livejournal.com]

I cried when I read this, so I know you're right on target (not cried in a bad way, just... a little sniffly, and a bit relieved). Thank you.

[(Anonymous)]

*hugs*

That's okay. I got a bit sniffly when I wrote it, too.

[trollbabe.livejournal.com]

Dammit. That was me. Stupid LJ. Ruining our tender little moment there. The bastards.