A Painful Realisation

Spectrumite Mum doesn't really know where to start. It wasn't exactly a summer of glorious sunshine, either physically or metaphorically.

At the moment, Alec and Bobby have more appointments in their diaries than a Labour MP visiting Glasgow for the day.

Firstly, it's transition year. The word 'transition' scares the hell out of any parent of an autistic kid. Transition implies something that's gradual, like a smooth slide across a winding corridor, changing through the colours of a rainbow as you slip along it. All peaceful and lovely.

That's your aim, anyhow. What transitions actually feel like in reality is a series of sleeping policeman placed at three feet intervals along a stretch of road marked 60mph. Bump - ow! - bump - ow! - bump - ow!


Transitions, however, have been small fry compared to the set of tiny bombshells that Alec's been dropping on us over the last couple of months.

Firstly, it was the TEETH. Stubborn, awkward baby teeth just not getting the hint that it was time to leave. Alec became very good at looking as if he was brushing his teeth when in fact he was brushing the inside of his cheek in a vain attempt to keep us off his back.

We tried double-headed toothbrushes (look a bit scarey), and different types of toothpaste, iPad apps, and all sorts of other efforts, but Alec wasn't having it.

Becoming increasingly concerned at his lack of dental hygiene, I paid quite a few visits to our own dentist, who's laissez faire approach probably works well on neurotypical children. Unsatisfied, we visited the local SEN practice, who grasped the scale of the problem quite quickly and referred Alec to a surgeon to have them removed under general.

After a bit of a wait and a few pleading phonecalls, Alec was hospitalised last week for his operation. Lo and behold, they found an abscess on a hidden adult molar - and here was the root of the problem. The awkward baby teeth might have started the decay, but here was the real culprit and boy did it look painful. It was removed without further ado.


So, if you have a hunch that something's different about your child, don't rule out that they could be in pain. If we'd listened to other people, rather than our own intuition, we would have got nowhere. Alec had regressed - no wonder - it's a bit hard to concentrate on vocalising when you've got a sore jaw.