The Others

The Others

Having lived with Dillon my whole life, I feel as though I am very experienced in taking care of a person with Autism, though I’ve never tested this theory outside of my own home. I’ve had a few experiences since then, and I have found my theory to be true.

This situation happens on the bus every day. A student that rides Dillon’s bus is verbal, but he beats himself up and takes off all of his clothes on a regular basis. Most of the time when I get on the bus to take Dillon off I say hi to this student, and we exchange single words that are often repetitive. He calls for his mommy often, but sometimes he calls for other things. One day I go to step onto the bus and the bus driver grabs gloves and a handful of paper towels and asks me to get them wet. Thinking someone threw up on the bus, I run back into the house, soak the paper towels and head back on the bus.

This student had picked a scab, and blood was everywhere. It was smeared on the seat, his face and hands, the pad that protects the window of the bus, and all over his clothing. The bus driver started to wipe off the blood from the student, while I stood next to him and handed him paper towels. The student and I talked, “Good Job” “Mommy” “You’re doing great” “Mommy”, until I asked him if he wanted a Band-Aid. “Band-Aid” “Band-Aid” he kept repeating over and over. I told the bus driver I would go grab one and away I went. I came back with a “Band-Aid” which sufficed his callings, which then returned to “Mommy”.

Sometimes I arrive on the bus and the student is naked. I’m obviously used to this from Dillon but it’s still not a welcome sight. He begins to call “Santa Clause” and I tell him “Put your clothes on and Santa will come” “Santa Clause” “You need clothes to see Santa Clause”. We continue this for a few minutes while Dillon giggles and goofs around trying to find his shoes and socks (which he takes off almost every day). After our banter back and forth he begins to pick up his shirt, but its hard to put clothing on with a harness attached to you which is strapped to the bus. I smile at the bus driver, who nods to me in approval of my persistence and patience. “It defiantly is a virtue, but to have it means the world to them” He smiles and pats me on the back “If only they all had families like yours”. I stepped off the bus with a smile, knowing that as long as I try, I will make a difference in the world, one autistic child at a time.