Memory Tale: San Diego Wild Animal Park

Mikey loves the San Diego Wild Animal Park. We've taken him there most years since he was about 6. He loves the animals. The park is big, and even when there are a "lot" of visitors, it seldom feels anywhere near as crowded as other theme parks.

First Visit - Grandma Learns A New Animal

We started down the KILIMANJARO SAFARI WALK, which is a faux African trail adventure. (There is a well-marked concrete path the whole way, and a guide book.) There are animals and vegetation from Africa. I was trying to make sure Mikey looked at all the animals and knew their names. Ahead, I saw a black-and-white striped, hindmost part of an animal.
“Zebra.” I said.
Mikey muttered something in response, which I thought had “cop” in it.
”Zebra,” I said again, pointing to the animal.
Again, Mikey uttered the same thing, and I struggled to listen.
”Ze-bra,” I tried a third time.
Mikey raised his voice, too, and said, ”OH – COP –EE.”

It was then I saw the sign for the Okapi.

Screaming in the bathroom

Mikey was not potty trained until he was about 9 years old. Up until then he used disposable underwear; and his caretakers would help him clean up as necessary. This is not atypical for an autistic child; I've heard that some don't train until they are nearly adults. So our trips, of necessity, included carrying supplies and extra clothes in case of accidents.

Even more challenging, Mikey hated to be cleaned up after a BM. He would rather run around with the messy pants - it was as if he didn't even feel the mess - than have someone clean him up. (We've never figured out what the sensory issue was.)

So this particular trip, mid-day, the inevitable happened. Marc took Mikey into the public restroom, and he started screaming in protest. I stood outside the men's room, just in case he bolted in the process.

A women, a little older than I, stood nearby, obviously distressed by what she heard, and not quite sure what to do. She chose to speak to me.

"I wonder if that little boy is OK?", she ventured.

"He's my grandson. He is autistic, not potty trained, and doesn't like to be cleaned up. My husband is with him, and he is fine." I responded.

Oh, the things that go through your head at a time like that.

WhatIF:

The police or security come, and think you are harming the child? He won't tell you his name. Even if he did, our last name is not the same.

The police, security or social services don't believe we're his grandparents?

And worst of all, what if they separate us from him? He would be totally frantic.

It is very different to take care of a special needs child than a neuro-typical child. It's not that other people don't understand; it's just that there is no frame of reference for understanding, until and unless someone cares for that special needs child. With autistic kids, each experience is different, so it's not totally possible to use the same strategies or techniques from one child to another. There is no end or conclusion here, just another non-ordinary day.

Mikey's Surprise - A Visit to an Amusement Park

Mikey has often expressed a desire to ride roller coasters. (David wants nothing to do with them. Grandpa has some minor middle-ear balance issues, and cannot ride things with two axes of motion without suffering ill-effects.) So yesterday, Aunt Evie and I took Mikey to a local amusement park.

Preparation

- Determine day and schedule time off
- Reread directions for harness
- Advise school that we would pick up Mikey after lunch
- Prepare name badge (autism ribbons above "Mikey" on one side; cell phone numbers on the other)
- Prepare story-with-pictures for Mikey, outlining where we were going and The Rules
- Check Web site of park for accommodations - if any - for special needs kids
- Take shorts and BRIGHT t-shirt

The Big Day

Drive to school; sign in. Mikey knew only that he was getting early dismissal - it was very important that we not promise something, on the off-chance it would not be delivered.

Signed in at desk. School got Mikey ready to leave. Mikey sees us for the first time.

"Hi, Grandma! Hi, Aunt Evie!"

"Mikey, say, 'Good-bye.'"

"G-Bye!"

"Good-bye WHO? What's my name?" (try to get eye contact)

More tries; finally, "Good-Bye, Danielle."

"He's dressed pretty warmly." "That's Ok; we brought shorts and a t-shirt." Shared name badge, harness. School asks if we want to start work there Thursday? :-)

Change Mikey's clothes - he gets in the car and puts his seat belt on - he is really good about that. "Mikey, do you know where you're going?"

Hand him page 1 of the "story" about this trip. He reads thru Page 1 (which ends with "Mikey gets his surprise."); he grabs page two off the front seat and exclaims, "[name of amusement park]!"

Off we go! "Mikey, [repeating from the story], first we stop at the rest room; then we go to the gate to get tickets; then we go in the park; then Mikey can ride!"

First challenge: althought there is a stated policy for "special assistance passes," the policy is that if there are more than 2 people, it constitutes a "party" and at least one person must wait in the regular line. The "special assistance" guests can go in the exit and join the person at the front of the line.

We go to the log ride; Evie waits in the line and I take Mikey on a mine train ride. Mikey clings to me as we go through one area - but I am not sure if he was afraid of the dark - he likes the dark - or if he was just trying to block noise by putting his ear on my shoulder. He was very good; did not try to stand up or anything.

Back to log ride; took him up exit. Wait. Fuss. Pull. Tug. "Mikey, wait for Aunt Evie - there she is!"

Climb in; very cooperative.
Up-up-Whoosh (small).
Around, around; faster, faster -- dark cave! Whoosh - II (medium).
Around "mountain" scenes. "Wolf!" "Bear" "Fox!" (just the animals; not the people-figures)
Climb. CLIMB. CLIMB! WHOOSH! (the big one) and SPLASH at the bottom.

"Did you like it, Mikey?"

"AGAIN!!!" We go to the "rapids" ride - Mikey keeps asking for the log ride. 90 minutes. Evie in line; Mike and Grandma wander.

Younger childrens area with cartoon theme; Mikey wanders; asks for grocery store (? never figured it out). Take disappointing "balloon" ride.

Text Evie - almost. Wander back to rapids.

OOPs line longer than was obvious. Try to wait. Mikey fusses. People stare. 20 mintes. Ride breaks down. AARRGGHH!

Back to Log Ride; Evie tried to leave rapids ride.

"Log Ride!"

"Long line, Mikey - can you wait?"

He tries to go in the "short cut" (exit) but I make him wait in line. 45 minutes. Lots of fussing; no screaming or other issues. Finally! We make it.

On the last high climb, he holds his hands up above his head; on the way DOWN he grabs the rails.

Evie had gone to wait in a different line for a free-fall water ride "plunge." She was most of the way through. Neither of us had been on this ride before.

Relatively short wait.

Get in.

Rigid shoulder harness comes down, over shoulders, to mid-riff; strap from the floor, between legs, locks in. We are stripped of anything that is not fastened down, including glasses. Evie and I are anxious (anxious? "What were we thinking!!!")

Ride starts. Up, up, UP (inside my head "LEMMEE OUT!")

Closed my eyes. Listned to rider Screams. PLUNGE. My (personal) bottom is not touching the ride seat!! Harness holds. S P L A S H . Drenched.

... and the voice beside me says, "AGAIN!!" We go off the ride - Evie and I still catching our breath. Mikey asks for horses. We go towards a Western museum in the park and I realize I can't find my phone. It had been in my pocket. Did it fall out in the "plunge"? Did I leave it back there?

Evie goes to look; I keep Mikey at the museum.

Mikey wants to leave, and we can't. Work with him. Lady in the museum gives him a souvenier coin, after asking if it's OK.

Shift change; older gentleman who has no idea what to do or not to do with an autistic kid ignores us totally. Mikey fusses. Tries to leave. Starts to scream.

More screaming. Tries to get away. Harness holds.

Tries to get on floor to hit his head on the floor - it's concrete. I hold the harness so his head doesn't touch.

Gets up. Go just-outside the museum. He tries to go. Screams for 2 minutes. Body slams me; 2 times hits his head on my chin - I can see the bruise today.

Finally, Evie is back - no phone.

Mikey has decided it is time for "Truck. Mama's house." We agree.

Mikey is calm and cooperative. We stop at a store; Mikey picks up 2 stuffed horses. "Pick ONE, Mikey." Aunt Evie buys it for him. We go out of the park and spot an "ice cream dots" vendor and get Mikey a cup.

Mikey is calm and happy. Kisses and hugs. Off to truck.

Mikey gets in; sits down; puts on seat belt.

On the way home we call and cancel the phone service.

Home. "What was your favorite ride, Mikey?"

"Log Ride."

We spent about 4 hours total in the park. More than we thought we would and all things considered, this was a highly successful adventure.

Evie and I go to dinner and both order a drink.

Later, Evie calls. "Mom, I have your phone! It was in my bag!"

I guess we put it in SOME TIME and just both forgot.

Harnessing Mikey

This is a follow up to "Mikey Escapes."

A while ago, we bought a harness for a large child. It looks pretty much like the fancier rigs that get used with dogs - the ones that go around the body, not the neck. We hadn't used it. However, my daughter (boys' aunt) and I are planning to take Mikey to a local amusement park in a couple of weeks, and I decided it was time to make sure he *would* wear it.

It took a while to get it on him, and - let's just say I plan to RTFM before putting it back on him.

"Mikey, do you want to go for a walk?"
"Yes."
"OK, you have to wear this harness."

He was very cooperative.

"Do you wear a harness at school?"
"Yes." (I'm not really sure he does - he goes to a special school for autistic kids. They do go on field trips.)

When it was on - still didn't quite feel right, but it was on - we went out the front door. He was actually very cooperative; and, unlike other times on walks when he's get too far ahead, now he simply slowed down when the lead "tugged" on him.

"Right," he said, indicating he wanted to go down the sidewalk.
"Right."
"Left."
"Mikey, what does the light show?"

We were at a street corner. Mikey doesn't "get" lights.

"Push the button, Mikey."
"Left!"
"Yes, Mikey, but first we go to the right to push the button so we can walk."

We did. He is very bright - the next light we came to, when asked to push the button, he did. I am hopefull this will eventually sink in.

"What do you see? Stop? Walk?"

Getting similar attention at a non-stoplight street corner, or by a parking lot driveway, is nearly impossible. But -- as we approached one parking lot driveway, and a car was coming, he did stop and wait. This is a major advance - he doesn't stop if a car is in the distance, but he was apparently aware of them close by.

"Right."
"Straight."
"Mikey, do you want to go to the park?"
"Yes." Quick turn of the head. "Thackerberry Farms!"

Thackerberry Farms is a strawberry stand. It's MILES away - like 3-5 miles.

"OK, Mikey, let's go home. Grandpa will take you to Thackerberry Farms to get strawberries."
"Straight!"
"No, Mikey, let's go back to Grandma's ..."
"Straight! STRAIGHT!"

Tantrum.
Pulling.
Attempt to run - harness is a good thing, and holds up against the struggle.
Drop to the ground.
Screaming.
Tries to get harness off. (Will he resists wearing it again?)
Pounds his head on the ground.
More screaming.
Rolls.
(Quiet voice here, continuously) "Mikey, we are going back to Grandma's house." (Repeat)

OKay, kids, today's lesson is ... the same one we always learn. Or refine: Set expectations with Mikey.

Later in the day, he wanted to go for a walk again. He agreed to the harness.

Grandpa says, "OK, Mikey, we are going to take a walk AROUND THE BLOCK."

Everything goes well and cooperatively. I have high hopes for the amusement park; and yes, we'll try this harness thing again next week in preparation.

Mikey escapes

At home, there is our daughter-in-law and our two identical twin autistic grandsons, David and Michael (sometimes, "Mikey"; David is usually, "David). There are deadbolts on all the doors and locks on all the windows. It's probably not the best from a fire-safety perspective, but it beats the heck out of the safety perspective of not letting Mikey get out on his own.
The boys are 11. David is (now) high-functioning; Mikey is not. Mikey is intelligent. At his school, they had to create special curriculum for his highly autistic behavior but just-about-grade-level work. Mikey does have language - he talks like a 3 year old: always present tense; one to three word utterances with an occasional short sentence thrown in. He can speak longer sentences if he is repeating something that interests him - like the dialog from a show or the words from a favorite book. He has reasonable receptive language, as long as you discount that he has no concept of time or tense.
Saturday is "our" day with the boys. Mom drops them off around 11 am - Noon, and we take them home in their PJs. This Saturday was no exception.
Our house doesn't have as many locks as their house, and there are two of us. We have cast-contcrete (decorative - looks like stone) 6' fences around the yard and locking (deadbolt) cast-iron gates. We recently added a lock to the front door since the lock only locks from outside; inside it doesn't need the key.
Saturday evening, after dinner, David on the computer upstairs with Grandpa, Mikey running around the back yard, and grandma sitting overlooking the back yard.
All of a sudden ... too much quiet. Look around the yard - no Mikey.
Call upstairs, "Is Mikey up there with you?" No Mikey. We double-checked. We looked over the fences into the neighbor's yards - no Mikey. One neighbor had the side door to her garage open - no Mikey.
Split up - get in cars. Go around neighborhood; look at parks we visit.
Mikey is very autistic - he has no sense of things outside who he is and what he wants. He doesn't, "Stop, Look and Listen" - for cars or anything else. He is 5' tall, slender and fast as a whip. We call him "the stealth kid."
Where is he? OMG, there is a house under construction and all I can see is the frame - is he there? Driving slowly past the park - probably caused the other folks there to wonder what the heck I was doing - nope, not there either. Could someone have? no, can't think that - "God, please..."
Grandpa (Marc) was back at the house and called me to see if I'd had any luck - no. "Call the police. I'm coming back to the house."
Marc called me before I got back - and said, “They have him – well, they know where he is.”
The local police have joint communications with the next community and the road behind my house is the border between the two. Across the street is the edge of a joint forces training base. They rent out a lot of the space to companies that grow strawberries. Our grandson was with the soldiers who found him on the base ...
He crossed a ususally busy, 4 lane road with a divider to get to the "other" side. He went about 4/10 mile up the street and then went back a road. At some point - obviously we don't know exactly where - he must have squeezed through a gate to get in - because the cyclone fences around the base have barbed wire. He was barefoot.
The soldiers found him on some farm equipment where the road ends. They - fortunately - recognized the autism - remember, Mikey doesn't really talk unless you have some clue how to talk to him - and took him to the guard shack at the entrance to the base. They must have contacted the local police.
More on David in another post; however, he did provide one small spot of comic relief: On the way to pick up Mikey, David said, “I wonder what they’re doing with Mikey??”
Marc and I both cracked up – Mikey is on drugs so strong for the hyperactivity that, when David – who is fairly active himself – accidentally took ONE of his pills, he was groggy for two days. It takes two of us to take him anywhere "special" just to keep up with him. Yea, I wonder what THEY did with Mikey.
When we picked him up, and got him back into the car, he said, “Farm!” Earlier in the day he had come to me and said, "Plant beans." We seldom know where Mikey gets his ideas from, although we do sometimes figure it out after-the-fact. We did plant beans last year, but he lost interest in them right away. He had asked me right before dinner, and we were busy fixing food - so I had tried to tell him, "Next week." Not that he understands time, but he's been a little better about, "not immediately but later."
From our back yard, we can see the "farm" at the base. We *think* - because there is no way of knowing - that he used a Step 2 slide we have in the back yard to get over the top of the fence, and then just dropped - bare foot, mind you - to the sidewalk to start this journey.
After questioning, we took Mikey back into the car. As we got on our way, he said, "Farm!"
We said, “Home.”
He said, “FARM!!”
We finally got him to say, “Farm is closed.” That's his way of acknowledging, sort of, that he's not getting something Right Now.
ANYHOW – got them back to our house and completed our ‘regular’ bath routine, then took them home and told Mom. On the way back, I said, “I don’t care what the house looks like; I’m going to bed.” But this was not to be. I thought it was the toilet running. It was not. Suffice it to say that the plumber looked at things today and we are turning the water off except to shower. The plumber will be back Wednesday.