To the mom in the waiting room…

I want to apologize to the mom in the waiting room.  I took Tony to the doctor this morning to have his ears checked — yet again.  We just finished a round of antibiotics for a severe ear infection in his left ear (yes… he still is plagued with ear infections at age 17… not as often, but when they come, it’s always severe) only to find out it’s hit his right ear. 

A trip to the doctor is no picnic.  Not only does Tony sometimes forget his “inside voice”, but he has ZERO tolerance for crying babies or whining toddlers, or screaming 4 yr olds.  We love his pediatrician, and know that next month he turns 18 yrs old, but I just can’t make a change right now.  Not yet.  There’s just too many changes going on this year for him.  We’ll tackle that later this fall.

So we’re walking into the building — and mind you it’s incredibly cold outside — and Tony is dragging his feet, taking his time, moping.   Just like a typical teenager.  No time schedule.  No sense of urgency.  No enthusiasm.  He only keeps telling me that his right ear is “burning”  (which is a new word choice for him — I’m happy with that, but I’m running late).   Down the hall he goes and he decides to speak in an unrecognizable foreign language, and in a very loud animated fashion with hand gestures and songs, to everyone who passes by.  It just so happens to be a very busy day at the Dr.’s office.   Heads turn — some stare, some frown and some giggle. 

“Come on, Tone – let’s hurry!”, I say as I’m grinding my teeth with a smile.   I know he’s testing my patience — yet again.  Then I heard it.  I heard a toddler in the waiting area.   He’s screaming at the top of his lungs.  My Tony — all 6 foot, 190 lbs of him — runs down the hall to the toddler with his hands over his ears yelling “STOP SCREAMING!!!  KNOCK IT OFF, PLEASE!”  And then added some of that unrecognizable language. 

I thought the little boy was going to cry, but he looked WAY up at Tony and all he said was, “K”.  

I was devastated – but I’m used to it – and wanted to apologize to his Mom,  but by the time I redirected Tony and calmed him down, she was gone. 

What is it about that pitch that bothers him so much?  I’m sure it like any unexpected noise or anything that startles him, but he’s so darn sensitive to that.  And how is that avoidable?  It used to be an issue — then I thought he grew out of it — but now it’s back.

That’s another thing about autism.  You can teach him a skill like riding a bike or tying his shoes right on schedule, but down the road he may lose it.  Why is that when other things, like dates and historical facts, are permanently filed in his brain?

I guess that’s just another piece of the puzzle. 

As the nurse called our name, she smiled and said, “What language are we using today, Tony?”  

“Hebrew”, he said. 

Go figure.

Becki

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Awwww…I bet that Mom is happy Tony got him to stop crying! I would be!!

  2. Although I know it must’ve been so hard and always is…you have such a gift of humor…what a blessing! Love you


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