The A Word
We wait on the doctor in the small exam room
For a standard visit, I had to assume
My son wanders and snacks on gold fish
He’s happy as always, a world of pure bliss
The doctor enters and talks to my son
It’s like he doesn’t hear him, no interest is shown
He makes quick eye contact before diverting away
Something else takes his attention astray
His height and weight are all as expected
But we talk about his MCHAT and concern is detected
The doctor asks more questions to start his investigation
I talk about my son to provide additional information
He doesn’t point; he doesn’t pretend
With a group of his peers, he does not blend
He doesn’t look when his name is called
With water and rocks he is enthralled
He doesn’t talk much, maybe 5 words at most
With repetitive behavior he is engrossed
He likes to run in circles, but never gets dizzy
He never tires, no matter how busy
He is so gentle and so sweet
We snuggle up with his show on repeat
He is constantly happy, rarely a tear
Always up for adventure, without a fear
In my eyes he is perfect – without flaws
The doctor his conclusion draws
I did not expect my life to change
In this small exam room with this one exchange
When I am done talking the doctor is direct
His response is not what I expect
He says the word ‘Autism’ and I suddenly can’t find air
My cheeks are saturated, my emotions flare
I leave with a paper that says ‘Autism Suspected’
To early intervention we are connected
Of all places, our journey begins here
In this small exam room – the future is no longer clear
