August 28, 2008 by Marj Hatzell
One of the reasons we high-tailed it home from our vacation early was because Bugaboo is in the middle of a teensy little psychiactric crisis. And by teensy-little I mean, FREAKING HUGE. Like, worst we’ve ever had to deal with. Like, rapid cycling, up and down, manic, restless behavior. As in, not sleeping, barely eating, screaming or giggling for hours. We don’t mind the giggling. The screaming we could live without. And, of course, with the agitation and screaming and restlessness comes biting. Tons of biting. Constant biting. He bites himself (from the elbow to the hand), he bites us, he bites anyone within a foot of him when he flips like a light switch. He has bitten holes in blankets, the couch, the car seat and a pillow. The boy has fangs, y’all. This petite cutie has barbaric strength, which I’ve read is quite common with ASDs.
Of course, if he’s biting holes in the couch and car seat, you can only imagine what he is doing to his skin. And my skin. We’ve got several scabs in varying degrees of healing. I’ve also got a few bruises where the biting didn’t quite make it through the skin. I’ve become quite adept at keeping my face and more sensitive areas away from his mouth when he is melting down but somehow the arms receive the brunt of it. What I’ve realized is that he has not yet bitten my husband. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because he doesn’t want to get hair caught in his teeth when he bites? I mean, the husband? He’s hairy. Think neanderthal hairy. I’m not joking, either. Ok, maybe a tiny bit. But my husband could comb his leg and chest hair, it’s that thick.
And yes, I’m aware that you are all thanking me for that visual. You’re welcome.
Would it cushion the blow if I shared a fabulous picture of the Grand Tetons with y’all? Yes? Well, here you go:
All better? Good.
Now think of that mountain and that water, and those otters and birds, and that SILENCE and that cool, beautiful breeze when we are at the Neuro, deciding what the do with our precious Bugaboo today. We may be repeating MRIs, EEGs and switching to bi-polar type medications today. As always, I have a tough time making decisions for him because I take it very seriously and don’t want to do anything to make him worse. I just want him to get better. So pray for that, sprinkle pixie dust or do what ever it is you do that will help me go in there with a clear head. The husband is also going, so let’s hope we all come to a consensus, hmmm?
Just don’t stabbing me with voodoo pins.