Alterity

Chapter Thirteen

Despite the anxiety and my initial frustration with having to attend The Ducharme School, my hangouts with Leo have left me nothing more than relieved that I ended up where I did. In fact, the first month or so of the school year practically flies by once the two of us started hanging out regularly to practice, and I love it. It had been a while since I'd felt such constant excitement for something—and happy more often than not. And then October 30 happened.

            I wake up with a start to the sound of Aiden screaming. At first, I think that it's just one of his usual verbal tics, and then I listen more closely. I fly out of bed faster than I ever have in my life and run like hell to his room. Practically kicking the door down, I am immediately hit with the horrific smell of both feces and vomit. I hit the lights and gasp, putting my hands to my mouth. Aiden has had terrible diarrhea and thrown up at least three times. He sits naked on the floor rocking, one hand covering his ear and the other pressed against his forehead, tears streaming down his cheeks and making the sound he does when he's upset—and based on the disrobing, I'm betting it's due almost entirely to being extremely physically uncomfortable.

I immediately scream for mom, who comes rushing into the room.

"Oh my god!" She says, putting her hands to her face.

I sit on the floor next to Aiden, trying to console him, and notice that he is burning with fever.

"Mom, he's really warm," I say. "Do we have a thermometer?"

"Yes, of course," She says, darting quickly to the bathroom and returning with one. I hold him still while she swipes it across his sweaty forehead. "Oh, no."

"What?" I ask.

"He's at 104." Says Mom. "He needs to go to the hospital. Get him dressed while I throw some clothes on and get my keys!"

"Ok." I say, my voice shaky.

Mom runs out of the room while I remain on the floor with Aiden for another moment, wiping the tears from his cheeks with my thumbs and stroking his hair, a lump in my throat.

"What's wrong, buddy?" I say, grabbing him a clean t-shirt and pair of sweat pants. "Do you have the flu or something?"

I clean him up the best I can and get him dressed, meeting Mom by the front door. Dad is out of town on a short business trip, so she texts him to let him know what's happening and we rush Aiden to the hospital, which thankfully, is only a few blocks away. Going through a situation like this with a loved one with Aiden's needs is a living nightmare. Due to the level of discomfort and possibly pain he is feeling from his illness, Aiden goes into a state of emotional crisis—and when he goes into crisis, it is immensely difficult to help him out of it. And with the fact that he's so ill and so uncomfortable, there's nothing anybody can do to help alleviate the trigger for him at the present moment.

When Aiden is in crisis, he can be pretty aggressive. He will hit, kick and bite—and when he bites, it's for blood—to try and communicate his extreme level of stress and discomfort, as he is completely non-verbal. During the five minute car ride to the ER, Aiden sobs and yells hysterically, alternating between throwing his arms around me and pressed his face into my neck and cheek, and hitting me or trying to bite the arm I am using to support him—as due to the seriousness of the situation and how close we are to the hospital, we decided against getting him into his car seat. 

"I know, buddy. . ." I say, as he is pressing his face into my neck. "I know."

When we get to the ER, the nurses get a look on their faces the moment the three of us walk inside—Aiden more hysterical than ever—and get us into a room immediately. Doctors offices, urgent care centers and hospitals are one of Aiden's biggest fears. So, once we are in the ER room, he starts trying to run out the door and bites me extremely hard the moment I intercept. Mom lets the nurses know about his profound autism and upon seeing the level of crisis he is currently in—and with increasing aggression—she asks Mom if we would be ok with using medical restraints. She gives her approval and several minutes later a team comes in and lifts Aiden onto the bed, placing him in the restraints which secure his wrists, ankles, shoulders, and torso.

I always look away when they have to do that to him. To someone that doesn't understand, it might seem barbaric, but sadly it is the only way to keep Aiden secure and safe while they run the necessary tests and administer necessary treatment. They set up an IV and give him some medicine for both his anxiety and his pain, which helps tremendously and causes him to fall asleep a few minutes later. Once he's out, they take numerous blood samples and send them to the lab. An hour or so later, the doctor walks back in and lets Mom and me know what's happening.

"Alright," She says. "So, we got the tests back which have confirmed that Aiden has lead poisoning. We're gonna go ahead and admit him."