"A Boy Named Ryan...And His Dog Named Bear" Part III

I rescued Bear in the nick of time, and got him home to Killeen. Ryan was visiting his Dad in Ft.Worth and wouldn't be home until Saturday, so I scheduled Bear's vet appointment for the next morning. I told their office that he seemed very sick, and was horribly under weight (a skeleton), that he needed a full lab work up, and grooming too, because he was covered in ticks.

I stopped at Petco to buy an easily digestible dog food, and a concentrated calorie paste for him. He needed to gain some weight quickly without having to eat large amounts of food. When I fed him that night he barely nibbled his food, and kept laying down every few minutes. I was very worried about him. He was only a year and a half old, and an Australian Shepherd, he should have been very energetic, and excited about his new home. Instead, he was lethargic. 

I got him to the vet the next morning, and the whole staff was waiting for him. They weighed him, and sure enough he needed to gain 20 pounds, they took lab samples, and started working on them immediately. My vet checked him carefully and didn't like what he saw, and agreed Bear was sick. He did confirm that Bear is an Australian Shepherd, just the biggest one he had ever seen!  I discussed neutering him on the following Monday, because I wanted Bear to meet Ryan over the weekend, without stitches and he agreed. The groomer came in, and Bear greeted her like she was an old friend, standing up and giving her what we have come to call a "Bear hug", laying his big head on her chest. She went ahead and took him back to the kennels (I explained to them that he was traumatized and NOT to put him next to any other dogs), and we waited for his test results.

The vet came back into the examining room with a serious look on his face, and my heart sank. He said we had a very sick dog on our hands, and he explained that Bear had contracted a serious blood infection carried by ticks. He likened it to Lyme disease, and it would take a couple of months on a specific antibiotic to cure, if not longer. Then he said his weight loss was also being caused by a huge infestation of large round worms. I  gulped, and hung my head, because I wasn't sure if Bear was going to be ok. He assured me, that no matter how long it took, he would keep re-testing him for the dog Lyme disease and keep medicating him until it was gone. I felt like we were in good hands. I said a prayer to St.Francis for Bear, and left him for the afternoon. When I picked him up and he was so happy to see me I realized he must have thought he had been taken from one kennel, only to be left at another! I gave him a big hug, and said "Let's go home Bear." and he was at the vet door instantly. He slept quietly at the foot of my bed that night, and I was looking forward to his first meeting with Ryan.

I told Ryan about Bear over the phone, while he was on his way, and he was very excited. He couldn't "baweave it"! lol I decided to have Ryan come in the house to meet Bear for the first time, instead of on a leash outside figuring it would be quieter, and Ryan's Dad could wait outside. I still wasn't sure what type of man Bear had acted aggressively towards at the shelter, but I needed to be careful. Bear had met my oldest son Daniel, joyfully with his typical "Bear hug", and hadn't growled at him once in 2 days, but Ryan's Dad is very tall (think linebacker) and large. 

I had Bear by his harness when Ryan came in, and when he saw Ryan he started wagging his whole body. He was so happy to see him! Ryan dropped to his knees in front of Bear and petted him. He said"Oh Mommy, he's so soft!" Bear didn't to jump up on Ryan, but he lay his big head up against Ryan's chest and looked up into Ryan's eyes. They both smiled, and my eyes filled with tears. It was the moment of truth. The one when IT happened; they could see each other eye to eye with Bear sitting, and Ryan had made eye contact, and felt a connection! He petted him for a moment, and almost in slow motion, Bear rolled over onto his side and then onto his back to expose his belly for Ryan to scratch. I told Ryan he wants you to scratch his stomach, and Ryan asked "Why?" So I told him, "Because he is telling you, you're his master, and he trust you so much, he's giving you his softest place to rub." Ryan scratched Bear's stomach for a few seconds, looked up at me and asked, "Can I show him to Daddy?" I said ok.

I  held onto Bear's leash as Miguel walked in, and when Bear didn't growl I let him go. Bear was wagging his nub, so Miguel petted him, to Bear's delight. When Miguel stood back up, Bear indeed climbed his body as high as he could go, and hugged Miguel. He looked at Bear and said "You're a good dog Bear." I've known Miguel a long time, and ALL dogs love Miguel! If Bear had growled at him, or acted aggressive I would've been worried about his stability, but he passed with flying colors! I breathed a big sight of relief! Bear was everything I had sensed about him...kind, sensitive, submissive, and smart. We had the right dog. Especially when it was time for Miguel to kiss Ryan goodbye. Instead of the usual sadness, crying, and begging, when his Dad had to leave, Ryan kissed him goodbye, turned around, and walked away with Bear's lead in his hand. Wow. Amazing!

After months of medications, Bear finally got a clan bill of health, he was neutered, and he settled into his job of watching and interacting with Ryan from their first day together. Today, they are never far from each other. Either Bear is laying close to him, joyfully running after him as they play "tag" in the house, or playing fetch the ball, or chase outside. We all know when his bus is coming, because Bear starts pacing, even before any of us hear it. He runs outside, jumps, and smiles, and wags his nub when the bus pulls up. He never, ever jumps on Ryan, but his excitement makes him smile big dog grins as he runs beside Ryan as they both bound up the stairs together. Ryan always gives me a quick "Hi Mom!", a hug, and then they go running through the house, happy, and playing the many games they've invented. (Bear remembers each game, and the rules effortlessly, so Ryan doesn't get frustrated.) He rarely gets mad at Bear, and I can count on one hand the times I've had to take Ryan aside for doing something mean to Bear, but once I explain how it makes Bear feel, he never does it again.  They have become a team, an amazing event for a child that wanted to be left alone all the time!

We are truly blessed to have Bear! Ryan has learned to transition better than ever, to share his space, and be considerate of another's feelings. Thank you God, St.Francis, and the many angels (including Gail Forrest), for making this story a happy, and successful one. We couldn't have done it without you!

 For now dear friends, peace be with you all, and I pray that each of you find that special something that sparks that "connection" in each of your children too. (hugs)
Beth


 

Ryan, Bear, and Me 2011

A Boy Named Ryan...and His Dog Named Bear.  Part II (Bear's story)

I was on my way to the Waco Humane Society, praying I would get there before they euthanized Bear. It was a very long hour! I knew deep down that Bear needed Ryan as badly as Ryan needed Bear. His pictures showed me a dog that needed a person and a job. I was determined as I walked into their office, and asked the lady at the desk if Bear was still available (hoping she wasn't going to say no, you're too late), but she said yes he was, hesitated, and then she asked, "Why do you want to see Bear?" We have so many other dogs you might like better." I explained to her that Bear was for my autistic boy, and I specifically wanted to see him, that I planned on having Bear certified as an assistance dog. I noticed two other women in the office listening, and one of them interrupted, and said "Oh no you don't want Bear! If you're looking for an Australian Shepherd sized dog, Bear isn't it! He's HUGE! She pointed to her hip indicating a very big dog. She went on to say "He is also, dog aggressive, and aggressive towards men too!" I asked them how long Bear had been at the shelter and they said 6 months. Whoa, that will make any dog act outside of character! A shelter is like doggy jail, causing huge amounts of stress, anxiety, depression, and fear. Six months is a very long time to a sensitive dog, and Bear looked sensitive!

I could feet my heels digging in, because I can be very stubborn. So, I asked, "So when you say huge, how big are we talking? Is he as big as a Mastiff? She said no. "Is he as big as a German Shepherd and as heavy?" She said no. I stated, "Well then he isn't HUGE, I want to see him, and evaluate him for myself." I was mystified as to why these people were trying to prevent Bear from being adopted, but I was going to see him first, and make my own decision. I had many years experience in training animals, from dogs, to cats, to horses, and even a rabbit. I could evaluate and teach. Of course, I wasn't going to adopt him if I thought for one second he wasn't going to be a safe and loyal companion to Ryan! I got the feeling nobody in that room liked Bear at all. They refused to take me to his kennel, and gave vague instructions to walk through each of the kennel buildings until I found him.

The buildings were as long as stables, with dog kennels running on both sides. Each building was a cacophony of hysterically barking, madly jumping, excited dogs begging to be let out of their chain link kennels. It was heartbreaking to see so many upset, unhappy dogs, that truly wanted to go home with us now! I felt sad for them all! We walked through building after building. Hundreds of dogs! It wasn't until I was walking down the path to the last kennel (which unlike the others it was open air and that day the temperature was around 110F), that I glimpsed a big black dog with a white chest sitting looking out of his chain link door. I thought at first I was looking at a Burmese Mountain dog, but then he moved his head, looking to the side as I approached and I thought, "Omg! That's Bear!" He was the biggest Australian Shepherd I'd ever seen, but there was no doubt that indeed that's what he was. As I approached his gate, he backed away from me. He didn't growl or bark,  he was just being cautious. I thought quickly. I needed him to approach me, not be so cautious, so I could tell if he was truly aggressive. I knew not to make eye contact, because the office had already told me he was an intact male (not neutered even though he had been there for six months!), and after seeing all the other dogs, I knew he had been stressed for a very long time.

I had an idea. I got directly in front of his gate, turned my body sideways and then squatted down. Thereby reducing my threatening height, and turning my face to keep from staring directly into his face. Bear's response was immediate. He came right up to the gate, sat down and started rubbing his body against the fence, desperately trying to get petted. I looked into his eyes and what I saw immediately made me teary eyed. He had the softest, sweetest, gentlest, brown eyes I have ever seen in a dog. He wanted me to pet him, so (through the chain link) I did. He wiggled with delight all over his body. I stood up and faced him. He stood up and put his paws on the fence and looked at me, and smiled a big dog grin, as if to say...I'm yours, I love you, please get me the hell out of here now! I petted his chest, and burst into tears. I was overwhelmed by his suffering, his depression, and his stress. I was wiping away my tears, when a pretty blond woman walked up behind me. She had a leash in her hands. She asked if I needed help and I said I had come to get Bear, and I wanted him. I told her my story, and how badly we needed Bear. Her name was Gail Forrest (an angel of mercy and a volunteer there) and she burst into tears and gave me a long hug. She  had been coming to get Bear to take him for his last car ride to Sonics, for his last hamburger. I cried a little more and assured her that was NOT going to happen! I let her know of the resistance in the office, and asked if she could help me with the adoption process? She said yes.

Bear was excited to be out of his kennel, but walked nicely on the lead next to Gail, as she led us to an outdoor visitation yard. She wanted me to visit with Bear to make sure he was what I wanted. When I finally ran my hands down Bear's whole body I was shocked! Bear was a skeleton! Under that thick, soft coat was an emaciated dog. He was also subdued for an Australian Shepherd, laying down to rest when he should have been bouncing around. I knew right then and there, Bear was sick. I said a prayer to St.Francis that it wasn't advanced heart worms. I vowed to get him to the vet first thing in the morning. I watched Bear as they put a little terrier dog in the next yard. The little dog charged the fence at Bear, barking and acting aggressive, Bear calmly walked up to the fence, sniffed the furious little dog and walked away. So much for dog aggression. After about 20 minutes I was ready to start the paperwork.

We entered the office and I filled out the paperwork, keeping an eye on Bear, as many people filled up the office, surrendering pets. He sat quietly with my son's fiance, his head in her lap, happy to be petted. When I turned in the papers to the lady at the front desk, she noticed we had a miniature dachshund at home. "Well", she said "You can't take him home today, until we have a "meet and greet" with the other dog, AND he has to do the same with your son." I said, "Did I mention I drove over 50 miles to get here, and you're asking me to drive 100 miles round trip for an unnecessary exercise, because he hasn't shown any problem since we came into this office?" "Also, my son has grown up around dogs, he will know how to handle himself." She wasn't budging. Just then providence stepped in as the manager (Tim) of the shelter came in. Gale asked Tim if he would interview me. I introduced myself and mentioned the e-mail and the voicemail I had sent to him concerning Bear, but he hadn't received either of them.

Tim asked my background with dogs, and I let him know I had been a breeder, a trainer, and at one time had been a trainer of problem dogs in Miami. He liked the plans I had for Bear, and signed my paperwork so I could take Bear home right them and there. I let out a huge sigh of relief! Except, even after Tim signed the paperwork, the front desk lady chased him down, asked to speak with him outside, and tried to dissuade him from letting me adopt Bear. He put his foot down, and I was free to finally get Bear out of there, and home! I will never know why they clearly disliked Bear, and not only didn't believe he deserved a home, but wanted him dead. I was relieved as I opened the car door... said "Hup"... and Bear jumped into the car and sat like a pro.

As I drove away, I felt goosebumps rise up all over me, as if the angels, (and St Francis) had been with Bear and I all that fateful day! I believed that whatever trauma and unhappiness Bear had suffered would fade once he was healthy and home. He could be himself again. A young, handsome, big hearted, and happy dog. I already knew by looking into his eyes, he was the right dog for Ryan. He would KNOW what his job was, just as surely as I had known the first time I looked into his eyes knew that he was THE dog. He could be Ryan's friend, and guardian. He would love my boy, and love his job. He had a purpose now...

For now my friends, I leave the story here. Part IV is all about Ryan and Bear's first meeting, and how amazing that first day was! Until then I bid you peace.
Beth

A Boy Named Ryan...and His Dog Named Bear. Part I

Ryan and Bear on a sunny day.

Ryan, was always on the verge of a blow up tantrum or meltdown since he had been 17 months old. Whether it was over excitement, over stimulation, anger, confusion, frustration, anxiety, or sadness. He always overreacted, and went over the edge. He had a very difficult time moderating his emotions and behavior, and the only level of reaction he seemed to know was extreme, and loud! There was no gradual rise in reaction from annoyed  to enraged. It was always 2.5 seconds and the rage was on!

We  moved to Texas so Ryan could see his Dad more often, so he started spending every other weekend with him. It was great that he was spending time with his Dad, but Ryan was regressing a little, and having a really hard time transitioning when he came back home. It took days for him to settle back into our household routine, with lots of crying, and temper tantrums. So, I took my oldest son (Daniel) aside, and explained how much better Ryan would do, emotionally, if he had a dog.  I had researched autism assistence dogs, and thier main effect is to calm these kids down. It took Dan about half a minute for him to say, "Start looking for a dog." I was excited, because I  knew deep down that it was one more thing  we could do for Ryan,  to help him get off  his daily emotional rollercoaster ride!

I made a list of traits Ryan's dog would need to have. It had to be an adult, because I needed a mature dog that could settle in quickly, and figure out it's role with Ryan. It needed to be intellegent, to be able to make decisions on it's own, large enough to withstand Ryan's strength, and have a strong herding instinct to follow Ryan everywhere. I researched different breeds, and decided Ryan needed a  herding dog, and the Australian Shepherd fit all the traits I was looking for. They are known in the dog world as "genius" dogs, natural born problem solvers, empathetic, responsible, hard working, and extremely loyal to home and family. They are also very tough, with a lot of endurance. Yep. High energy boy, strong athletic dog, I'd made my decision. The hunt was on!

It was easy to decide to adopt a dog from a shelter, but finding an Australian Shepherd turned out to be difficult. Everytime I got close to finding one, they would either get adopted, or in the case of one dog I had my heart set on, he needed sugery. Then one day, I came across a posting on petango.com that said Urgent in big letters, and explained the dog listed was in danger of euthenization within a matter of days. He was a black and white Australian Shepherd, stunningly handsome, and only one and a half years old. After reading his description, and then studying his pictures, I could see in his eyes that he looked lost, and he had this far away look, like he was waiting for someone. His name was Bear, and I got a feeling of absolute surety that this dog I was looking at, was the dog for my boy. He was waiting and watching for Ryan!

I quickly fired off an e-mail to the Waco Humane Society Animal Shelter, informing them of my interest in Bear, and to please wait until I could get there (in two days) before euthenizing him. I didn't receive an email back  The next day I called the Waco shelter, and left a voicemail begging for them to hold off putting him down, I was coming the next day to see Bear. I didn't get a call back. The next morning I looked up Bear's link and it mentioned either thursday or friday as his euthenization date. It was Thursday morning and I broke out in a cold sweat! I asked if I could borrow the car, and Dan's fiance not only said yes, she said she would go with me to get Bear. In 20 minutes we were on the road to Waco with mapquest directions, and prayers to God that we would please get there on time!

My friends, I'm going to leave this story as a cliff hanger. Part II of this story will be posted tommorrow afternoon. Until then I bid you peace always...
(hugs)
Beth

Ryan and his dog Bear, they are both thinking pretty hard. :)

This post is also an earlier post from www.fifthandfinal.com -

 

Ryan has many great qualities, even with the neurological disorder of High Functioning Autism. He is very charming, and when he was a baby we used to say-"He has charisma with a capital C!" He has beautiful eyes, which have that "look of the eagles", a piecing look straight into your soul, that he inherited from the Cherokee side of my family. He has a movie star smile, and an infectious laugh. He is beautifully handsome, and every woman that has ever made a comment about Ryan has said, "He's going to be a heart breaker!" These qualities are just the superficial, outward appearances of Ryan. It is his inner spirit, his innateness, what makes him who he is, that differentiates him from the "norm", and illustrates the positives of his disorder.
What is truly great about Ryan is his constant hunger for more. He has huge amounts of mental endurance and concentration. He is tenaciously stubborn, and he always wants to win his side of an argument. These are all traits needed in the world to be successful.
He is driven, and even at the tender age of 4, he wants to be a man. He daydreams, and discusses what he wants to be when he grows up, every single day! His personal obsession (which is by definition an Autistic tendency), has always been, and continues to be, trucks! He talks about them, he collects them in every size, shape, type, and color.  He has books about them, and even collects cards (like baseball cards) at every truck stop, and is not shy about asking the cashier if they have any. He is consumed by trucks.  In our two years of traveling (the many highways of America) for up to 18 hours a day, Ryan has never tired of looking for, and at, every single truck on our side of the road, and the other side too. He believes wholeheartedly, and has planned, to become a truck driver and own a shipping company. He repeats everyday that he is going to own ten trucks, and he will be driving them! His obsession has educated me, and inspired me. I have never known much about semi-trucks, but after Ryan, I am well versed! I often remind myself, that his obsession could have been worse, I could have been bombarded with trivia about guns.
I like that he has a plan for himself when he's a man. I also like that he has given me the perfect tool to inspire him, when he tells me he doesn't need to go to school. I tell him, "You have to learn how to read road signs, or how will you drive your trucks?" He complains he doesn't know math and doesn't want to learn it. Perfect opportunity for me to pipe up and say-" How will you count all the money you are going to make by owning trucks?", or "How will you know how much diesel (yes he knows the difference between gas and diesel fuel) you have to order for your trucks everyday?" He always thinks about it and says, "Ok I'll go...sigh".  I don't worry about him being obsessed, it is an integral part of Ryan, and of his HF Autism. I like to think that he will fulfill his dreams when he becomes a man.
I am writing this piece, the day after Apple founder Steve Jobs has passed away. I am reminded of just how different his thought processes were, and how his drive for perfection, and his obsessions radically changed the entire world. It gives me hope for Ryan, that his differences from "normal" children will serve him well, and I am comforted by the long list of "unique" individuals who have also changed the world one invention at a time. High Functioning Autism can (and will) be a positive aspect of Ryan's innate uniqueness. It is what makes Ryan, Ryan.
I leave you parents of  "unique" children, with the positives of HF Autism. In  the hope it lightens your burden, so that  instead of sadness and tragedy, you become filled with happiness and hope for your child's future. The hope that they will be able to fulfill whatever their dreams and fantasies are, as they become men and women.
Until tomorrow...
Best Regards,
Beth

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things: On Ryan's Lighter Side...

                                                                                                                                                                                        

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things: On Ryan's Lighter Side...

Another copy from my www.fifthandfinal.com blog:

Ryan with a candy toe ring, 2009

 So, all of you know that Ryan has been a challenge, and we've had our share of difficult times, but maybe it's time for me to tell you about his lighter side...the side that I call "elfish".
Ryan has a magical smile. A smile that lights up like a halogen bulb on a moonless night. One second it's dark, the next it's blindingly bright. The kind of smile that in the old days was called a "moviestar" smile. He smiles most of the time, as he goes about his day. Sometimes they are little smiles, like when he finds just the right spot for a truck that he's placing in a straight line. Fleeting smiles like when he taste something that he really likes, and then gets down to eating it. But it's the big smiles that are accompinied by his unbelievable laugh, that light up the darkness and I feel his magic.
It is so unexpected to have a "special" child with a laugh so genuine, and infectious that it makes your own laughter bubble up from deep inside yourself, unbidden, and uncheckable. It is one of his greatest gifts, his ability to transport me in a split second to the age of 4, when I could laugh at little things and have the sensation of laughter run through my whole body. It is infectious too. I'm not the only one that his laugh can effect, there are many others... family members, children, strangers in parks, and swimming pools will all laugh when he does. When he laughs hard, even our dog (Bear) jumps up and runs around in excitement, shaking his big head and bouncing with joy. I wish his laugh could be bottled, it would cure a lot of wrongs in this sad world.
Ryan is also funny. He is sometimes funny, in a stomach shaking, laugh til I choke, kind of way.  Ryan is prone to slapstick moments that would make Jerry Lewis proud. I once watched him jump up and down on the couch (while eating a piece of celery no less) throw a ball for Bear, put himself into a headstand to watch Bear run upside down, and scream with laughter. I couldn't keep from laughing as I told him to stop jumping on the couch! He has a mischievious sense of humor too, that can strike anytime and anywhere. One of his favorite "jokes", involves strangers when we shop. He waits until he knows I'm distracted, walking down an aisle looking for something, and will lunge out at any stranger within reach, grab their arm and scream HI at the top of his lungs, and laugh hysterically when they jump. He doesn't let go right away, and sure enough these strangers will laugh with him. I have to fight hard to control my face, not smile or laugh, to admonish him that "it's nots nice to scare people!" Then there are those moments because he is 4, when we are in a resturant, he'll smile that big smile, laugh, and with a mischievious gleem in his eye announce at the top of his lungs that he has just passed gas, and giggle until he can hardly breath. Oh my, this boy...
He lives life for all it's worth, every moment, and is larger than life himself.  He is completely oblivious to social pressure, and does not give a flip what anybody thinks about him. This amazing, unique, funny, "elfish" special child, makes me thankful that I had him, every single day. He is the darkness sometimes, but more often than not, he is the light, and brightness, and magic in my life. I would not have him "be" any other way. Not neuro-typical, not un-Autistic, not un-developementally delayed, because then he would "un-be" Ryan. He is who he is, and even with his struggles, he is true to himself. He is Ryan, and I am his lucky, blessed, sidekick, fan, and audience.
Peace be to you all.
Beth

2011...The Year Ryan Loved and Hated...

Ryan in the car, happy to be out and about.

So it is now January 1st, 2012, and it's my day of reflecting on last year, and pondering my hopes for the new year. I reflect on the how I can make each year better, and especially how I can make things better for Ryan.

In 2010 I'd  made a decision to move Ryan to Texas, so he could see his Father more often (he had gone many months without seeing him), but  as 2011 began, it became apparent it was going to be a very difficult, and harsh year. Do to tough circumstances we had to move once again (our 3rd time in a year), and since I had nowhere else to go, I had to move Ryan and I into the projects (in the ghetto)  for a temporary move until my tax refund came in. We moved into a tiny apartment, in a small town in Central Florida. We stuck out like sore thumbs, and Ryan disliked the apartment immediately, because it was very small and we had to sleep on a couch together. I told him it was only for a short time, and tried to help him adjust.

 I took him outside every morning after breakfast, so he could ride his big wheel. It got the attention of a couple of little boys that were neighbors, and they started coming outside in the mornings too. Their Mom's quickly realized I was keeping an eye on all of them, and soon they started talking to me. I made friends with  them and their children, and we spent everyday watching them play, walking them to the park, and answering lots of questions about me, and Ryan. They were curious about Ryan (he was so different from them), and then one of the older brothers finally asked me if Ryan was "touched". I knew this old fashioned term, so I gently explained what autism was, and that Ryan was younger in his mind than his real age. He understood that, and from that moment on, every little boy that Ryan played with, banded around him and watched out for him.Ryan had a daily play group for the very first time, and they had his back.

What originally was supposed to be 2 months, stretched out to 6 months. It was a very frustrating time, and yet we both learned many new and important lessons. I learned what poor people really go through, everyday, and how they make do with what little they have. I learned  how to make friends with anybody, under extreme conditions. I cared about them and that's what mattered. They made my life bearable. They shared, stretching what they had, and made me laugh on my toughest days. I think I taught them a few things too...like, there are people you can trust even when your culture says you can't. Plus, I gave cooking lessons to the teenagers, supervised the younger ones, and babysat when I was needed.

Ryan learned to play with more than one child at a time. He learned how to share, and take turns, and also, most importantly, that he could have fun with other kids. I certainly would never recommend this approach to teaching an Autistic child the many social lessons he learned in those six months, but it changed him faster than any other social therapy he'd ever had..We had a routine and a life there, which taught Ryan, that even in the worst conditions, you can rely on life being pretty normal if you make it that way. He made a lot of progress in spite of the challenges we faced those first 6 months of the year.

I started preparing him for our move to Texas, and even though he was excited about getting a nicer place, he was sad to say goodbye to his friends, and I was too. I spent weeks, talking about Texas, our new home, and our new plans. Finally it was time to leave. It was a very emotional morning when we left, with lots of hugging and tears, and thank yous to the many neighbors that had become friends. It was one of the toughest times of my life, but I will never forget the warm people that reached out to us while we were there!

The trip to Texas was long, but exciting. We saw our first Texas Longhorns, enjoyed sweeping wide vistas with beautiful ranches, and lots of wide open spaces. We moved to a city with the largest Army base in the US, and had to learn our way around, but once Ryan and I got unpacked into our new home, we could relax and let our guards down for the first time in 6 months. It felt so good! We have spent the second half of 2011 adjusting to a new school, new neighbors, and being far away from our whole family. That has been hard. Ryan misses his sisters, but he never talks about moving back to Florida to live, only going back to visit and swim. Lol.

We made it through 2011, and I was able to make things better for Ryan, and he did make progress, in spite of one of the greatest trials of my life. This year, 2012, will be one of stability. We will have the same home, school, and quiet life we yearned for last year. We will enjoy being in one spot, and Ryan will make progress, grow, and thrive! We love our new home and feel very comfortable already. Thank you to our family and friends we left behind, and thank you Texas for what lies ahead of us!

A New Blog Spot, but Last Post from FifthandFinal

Testing...Testing...1234...I am testing a new blog spot, to see if I like it better than fifthandfinal.com on wordpress. Blogger is already world's easier than the other! So, this is the 7th post titled "Meltdowns and Tantrums...the Difference." from my other blog.

 I’ve mentioned Ryan’s ear surgery at nine months as a marker for his first display of Autistic symptoms, mainly due to acute reactions to sound , but his anger and anxiety levels were barely noticeable. He was more likely to be indifferent or quiet. Too quiet. Compared to my youngest daughter who had ADHD, he was the complete opposite- careful, deliberate, and persistent. Yet, over the next year (his second year) I started seeing escalating episodes of anxiety. He would startle, cry, and run when he heard unfamiliar noises. He had crying jags if he fell down, and it took months for him to walk with any confidence. He had a very low pain threshold, screaming and crying with, what I thought, were  just regular bumps that other kids would  barely notice. I believed Ryan was just exhibiting a more “sensitive” personality than other kids. He fit in with my side of the family, which is heavily populated with high and genius IQs, writers, poets, and musicians.  We all have the proverbial innate “high strung” personalities that come from those genes. I figured he would “toughen” up once he  gained  experience by playing with other children, growing into a more mature toddler. He would naturally get a tougher skin. This scenario might have come true, if not for an event that  changed Ryan almost overnight… he came down with a virus.
He caught his first major stomach flu in July (at 16 months old) of 2008, and we were descended into six days and nights of hell on Earth!  He vomited, had diarrhea, and burned up with fever continuously, until he lost every bit of his adorable baby fat, and was weak and exhausted. I had never heard of a stomach flu that lasted more than 48 hours, so after repeated phone calls to his pediatrician, I finally got a call back from the doctor who begged me not to bring Ryan into his office (as over half of his practice had this bug), and if Ryan became too dehydrated to take him to the ER, but he seriously doubted the ER could help much, because  so many  children in the town were sick ,it was jammed full! The wait would be horrible and uncomfortable for Ryan so he advised me to stay home.  I was on my own, so following the doctors directions, I gave Ryan Pedia-light and chicken broth in tiny sips, every hour (while he continuously whimpered and got weaker) day after day, but  successfully kept him from getting dehydrated. On the seventh day he finally held down a few ounces of broth, but took 3 more days to get an appetite for solid food. I will never forget those 10 days, as I mark that flu as the beginning of Ryan’s regression, and the beginning of his multiple Autistic-like symptoms.
He was never the same, and I watched helplessly as over the next seven months  he became possessed by anger, and terror.I couldn’t  comfort him, only his pacifier worked (God help me if I couldn’t find one!), and he started resisting me if I picked him up while he was upset.  Those first episodes of wriggling out of my arms while crying, marked the beginning of what would become the violent arm flailing,  kicking, tortured, screaming  incidents that escalated in intensity and frequency. He regressed until he was barely making ten sounds, couldn’t point, couldn’t communicate, and was having up to fifteen “tantrums” a day. Everyone kept telling me he was just going into his “terrible twos”, and he was only having tantrums, but I intuitively knew some of them were not tantrums,  because they were something very different from any tantrum I’d ever seen.
I have now come full circle with the back-story, preceding Ryan’s first appointment in New York with the pediatrician that diagnosed him with High Functioning Autism. What I need to mention now, is the raw emotional state I was in at that first appointment. I was feeling a lot of hurt from opinions and accusations by family members and friends, as they gave their take on what was happening with Ryan.  I heard them all…” I was too old, therefore too lenient, I was giving in to his manipulation, I was spoiling him, I was too soft, I wasn’t disciplining ( i.e.spanking) him hard enough or often enough, I was feeding him wrong” etc..  By the end of those seven months  I was questioning myself (and blaming myself too), but deep down I knew that something was wrong with Ryan, but my message wasn’t getting through to anybody! I couldn’t express to the doctor that day, (since I hadn’t done any research on Autism, so I was unfamiliar with the word meltdown) that not all of Ryan’s tantrums were the same, and that he had different triggers. Sometimes it was transitioning, sometimes it was when he hurt himself, he had different kinds, but I had never fully realized it myself. They all sounded the same. They began with whining , then escalated to screaming and crying. I knew I’d missed my opportunity to express my reservations, when the doctor explained that I had to ignore and isolate Ryan during tantrums, even if  it was caused by hurting himself (which happened fairly often), because  paying attention to any kind of tantrum would cause them to continually get worse. I did what he, and several other specialist told me to do, and spent the next six months ignoring him as a way to deal with the tantrums, but despite the expert advice they escalated and got worse.
It all came to a head, when I moved to the Florida Keys in October of 2009 (after my oldest son deployed to Iraq), and Ryan’s tantrum’s moved into the realm of physical violence.  He had an incident so severe, he  broke his dvd player, bent a metal vent with his bare hands, and re-broke my nose trying to get out of the bedroom where he was supposed to stay until his “tantrum” was over. I had had enough! I picked him up, walked out of the bedroom, sat with him in my rocking chair, and started crying. I told him I loved him and we were going to do things differently from now on! He sighed and relaxed into me, exhausted, and fell asleep. What I  finally realized, was that Ryan had been reacting to anxiety caused by a sudden change of plans that day, and as the anxiety got worse, so did his so called “tantrum”. Then his anxiety became full blown panic, at which point  Ryan wasn’t Ryan anymore, he was a primitive, feral wild animal acting solely on blind instincts. That was not a tantrum. A tantrum is defined as an act of defiance, and manipulation, in which the child is capable of conscious thought. What I had just witnessed was exactly the opposite, a total loss of logical thought, due to horrifying anxiety that escalated to a full blown panic! He felt out of control, floundering, because he didn’t know what came next when the plan changed. What I missed at the beginning of the meltdown was his need for another plan to replace what had changed, but his reaction had been so fast and spiraled out of control so quickly I assumed he was angry. Now I understood, that although Ryan was in his terrible two’s and was having regular tantrums, he was also having “meltdowns”, defined as a loss of logical thought due to the fight or flight reflex governed by the primitive brain! It started as anxiety, and ended in panic. He had needed comfort, not discipline.
We moved forward from that day on. It was the last time I ever ignored my gut instinct, and did what I thought was wrong. I learned to watch for two factors before deciding how to handle an episode.  Sometimes, I’m alerted to anxiety by his repeating the same thing over and over. Other times, he will start asking “what if” questions that start to escalate, if I’m not catching on to what he is anxious about his voice will get higher, and louder followed by fidgeting. Other times if he’s suddenly startled or scared, he freezes then takes off running, and goes into full blown meltdown, running with no thought to his safety. If he’s  angry, (but can be distracted) then he’s heading for a  tantrum, which happens much less frequently as I’ve learned to insist that he not cry for what he wants.
It has been 2 years since that fateful day in the Keys when I took control of Ryan’s meltdowns AND tantrums (for that was the missing key all along,  to help with both!), and in that time he learned how to talk, he started school, began playing with other children, and learned how to pretend.  He had come a long, long way, but he was still sick all the time, and I just couldn’t shake the feeling that his diagnosis was still “off”. That just like the difference between his meltdowns, and tantrums, there is an underlying issue with his health that is still being missed. An issue that is continuing today, even with his gluten-free diet, that will take more testing, and trial and error before we really get to the root of what has happened to Ryan since that fateful stomach flu.
For now dear friends, I apologize for the length of this post, and hope that it held information that helped with your own child. My next post will address several avenues of new research (DNA, environmental, immunological, diet etc),  and the up coming testing Ryan will be going through to answer his medical issues. Until then I bid you peace, and hugs for your children.
Best Regards,
Beth