To say I’m your standard Conservative Suburban Mom is probably an understatement.
I’ve voted with the GOP hardline in the last three elections (which is probably enough to get me burned at the stake with most of you reading this.) I wear sweater sets with pearls. We go to church every Sunday.
And I score drugs for my 12-year-old son.
Why yes, that is my SUV (with the “Romney 2012” bumper sticker) outside Milo’s cheesy college apartment, picking up this month’s supply. I always guiltily hit up 2 different ATMs to get the money, not wanting the nice girl at my bank branch to wonder why I’m always getting cash. I dose my son with a nice home-baked chocolate chunk cookie. (Important: keep those cookies in a separate jar.)
As a baby, my Matthew developed in a perfectly normal fashion. He hit every milestone right on time, like walking at 12 months, complete sentences at 18 months (“Mom, that was a fart.”) And at 22 months, my son disappeared. Autism is a cruel disorder; 4 out of 5 children are born neurotypical and then regress into the silence of those beautiful, mysterious brains.
As the final F-U, one in four kids with autism develop seizure disorders. Matthew was one of them. His first seizure was at Target when we were shopping for a new bike for his 9th birthday. He gave out a loud bird-like screech and fell to the floor, shaking and moaning. To see my child frothing at the mouth and shrieking makes me understand a little better why so many cultures thought seizures were actually demonic possession. The kindly EMTs nodded knowingly when I gasped that Matthew had autism.
“Sorry to hear it, but we see this a lot with the autistic kids,” the paramedic said, injecting my baby with Versed to stop the seizure.
Our pediatric neurologist put Matthew on a potent cocktail of three different anti-convulsant medications. They didn’t stop the seizures from increasing in frequency or severity. But Matthew endured endless rashes, nausea and sleeplessness. One of the other autism moms was the first to suggest marijuana.
“How is getting my son stoned going to be any help!” I hissed.
She rolled her eyes. “There are several different types of cannabis. You want one with a lower THC — that’s what gets you high — and containing a higher CBD level.
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