“Likely as not, the child you can do the least with will do the most to make you proud.”
It was the first thing Boo asked for when I met him at the car; Andy had just driven up to the eye doctor’s office and I was there, yesterday, waiting for them. “Octopus?” he said when he saw me, reaching out his hand. “Hi, Boo. I’m sorry. Mama forgot the octopus,” I answered, cursing myself. I’ve bought him so many octopi and he destroys or loses them all, or they get so grimy and un-washable we have to toss them away. But next appointment I’ll be sure to have one at hand.
An older picture of Jonah and his “octopus.”
This is a picture of what Jonah calls “octopus.” Any kind of those squishy rubbery toys with nub or finger-like appendages will fit the bill – even those that look like caterpillars or balls. To Jonah they are all octopus.
He was a good boy in the car ride up, and a good boy at the eye doc office, even though we had to wait a good while in a small room.
Daddy played ‘push and pull’ Jonah’s legs while we waited.
After a while, Jonah started turning his circles in the small area, becoming less patient.
You can see where we’ve cut the hair along the top of his head to keep it away from his eye shield. What he needs is a buzz cut for the summer.
We sang “I’ve been working on the railroad” for a while, trading lines, but then he stopped and said “no,” clearly done with that entertainment. Finally, I thought the taking of the pictures themselves might occupy him. Sometimes it makes him mad, so usually when I take photos I do so surreptitiously. But this day he enjoyed it. I took one of him with his daddy and then daddy took one of him with me:
Coming in for a hug with daddy.
Sitting on mama’s lap
Eventually Andy went into the hallway to tell someone that Jonah was fixing to have a tantrum (though he really was still being good) — we knew the longer he was left in the room, the harder it would be for the doc to examine him once she arrived. Soon afterward the doc appeared. She had me take all the tape off his eye shield and remove it altogether; I hoped against hope we could leave it off for good this time. But his eye still looked bloody and the pressure was too high (around 32) – both of which things, she told us, were to be expected.
She put two kinds of eye drops in his eye, one of which stings, and did an ultrasound with blue goo all over a wand against his closed eye. All of these things would bother an adult, let alone a child of 11 with autism. But my little trooper was so good – he patiently let her examine, shine lights, and more while Andy and I waited anxiously.
She said the ultrasound looked like things were much better, and she wanted him to have two more appointments, a week apart.
Unfortunately, we had to put the eye shield back on. Jonah seemed resigned to this and happily gave both of us kisses when it was all over. I needed to return home to work, but Andy brought him to see grandma, and then back to his residence, without much trouble at all.
I was so proud of my Boo.
Thank you to all of you who sent prayers and well wishes through comments, or through my facebook page, or by e-mail, or live and in person, or in your hearts. Jonah loves you all, unconditionally. Mama promises.
The Never Normal 