This is just too good to keep to myself.
First, a bit of background. It's been a rough couple of days around here. A major storm blew into our area yesterday and the low pressure system that accompanied it wreaked havoc on Bud's system, the way that low pressure systems often do. Coincidentally, Bud had an appointment with the doctor who does his medication management yesterday, so the doctor got to see first-hand the extreme behavior that these kinds of systems can cause. We were able to talk through some strategies regarding the timing and dose of medications when these situations arise.
But, today, the storm continued to rage outside my house and inside my boy, and though I had a plan for medication (which was ultimately successful, I think), I knew early this morning that I would not be able to send him to school today. Instead, we had a sort of home-spun homeschool day, just the two of us, for better or worse (and, frankly, we experienced a little bit of both).
It's been exhausting - and I imagine it's been twice as hard on Bud as it's been on me. And it's been frightening. When I see extremes in behavior, there is always some small part of me that fears it's a shadow of things to come - that this is not merely a blip on the radar caused by barometric pressure, but is, in fact, an emerging issue.
It was right in the middle of the day today that I remembered an e-mail I'd received a couple of days ago. It was titled "Hope?" and it was from Sharon, the mom of a young man with Aspergers. She'd attached a video clip and said she was sending it to remind me to never give up because the fight is worth it. I couldn't open the video link on the computer I was using when I'd opened my mail, so I'd saved it in my inbox until I could watch it from home.
I clicked the link today, and I "met" Sharon and her son Scott. The video was made when he was 21, following a period of about seven years when he was so uncomfortable around people that he rarely left his home.
But on the day this video was made, Scott took a risk and left home. He did it, he says, because "a lot of people have a lot of pre-judgment against autistic people and I'm here to try to break it."
And break it, he did.
It was just what I needed to see today - a day when Bud and I weren't able to leave our house, a day that didn't seem full of hope.
But this filled me up.