Last week, on Christmas Day, the monkey was doing really good all day. The day before we had made Christmas cookies and prepared the turkey. Although he didn’t help, he was happy swinging away on his swing.
On Christmas Day he was humming and being silly. Then out of nowhere he stated getting anxious. Then upset. He kept crying and touching his behind. Out of nowhere he was in pain. We kept trying to figure out what it was. We kept trying to see if it was his tummy or if he was constipated. We just didn’t know.
We kept asking him. What’s going on buddy? What is it? Do u want some water? What is it? And since my son is nonverbal, it is so much harder. Hearing him moan in pain and have no idea what is wrong is so difficult.
Then he started walking and opening his legs.
I think it’s his stomach. Maybe he’s constipated????
And when one is in this situation, like we have been many times before, we constantly second guess ourselves. Is it this? Is it that? Should we do this? Should we do that? And we go in circles.
My husband said let’s take him in to the night clinic. And I told him that I disagreed. These places give the monkey so much anxiety. We have to hold him down in order to sedate him. And this is usually a team of five or six people just to be able to get the doctor to examine him.
I told him let’s try a suppository first. I think that’s what it is. And we went back and forth on this. No. Yes. Doctor. Suppository. Ugh…. This sucks.
I went with my gut. And so did my husband. Okay. Suppository.
So my daughter went to the pharmacy to buy suppositories for her brother. While we stayed behind trying to comfort my son.
And we knew we would soon be in our second battle.
Holding an 8 year old boy down trying to give him a suppository is the most difficult thing to do. He knew something was wrong. He knew what we were trying to do. And he was terrified. And it just broke our hearts. My husband kept telling him to please trust us, please trust us. We are trying to help you.
We’ve done this before when he was younger. But now that he’s a little older, more understanding, I don’t know if that makes it harder. Because looking at his eyes while we’re trying to do this, and the fear that he has while he’s screaming, it’s just simply heartbreaking.
After many attempts I was finally able to do this.
And now we wait.
He kept walking with his open legs, holding his stomach, crying. Holding his behind, crying in pain. We take him upstairs and ask him if he wants to shower, or does he want to drink water, what is it? How can we help?
But now we can only do his wait.
We give ourselves a timeline and if nothing got better than we would take them to the doctor. But after about 30 minutes, he finally started looking better. He stopped crying. He did use the restroom. And then after a long shower, he was coming back to being himself.
And when we finally dried him and got fresh clean clothes, he asked for colors and paper.
He wanted to color.
And just like that he came back to us.
My husband and I looked at each other and thought well that came out of nowhere.
We are just glad that we made the right call this time.
And I tell myself we can’t get stuck in this hole of why’s? Why can’t he talk? Why can’t we figure out quicker what’s wrong? Why does this happen?
But instead, I force myself to move to the good things. Force myself to see the bright side. It could have been worse. We didn’t have to sedate him.
Today ended in a good note.
This autism journey is so unpredictable, we don’t always know what to expect. But we have to learn to stop focusing on the bad, and move our attention to what really matters. ❤️
My healthy happy monkey.