Over the winter break, Little Bird caught a pretty ugly stomach flu. One minute she was totally fine, the next minute there was projectile vomit covering the walls, couches, floor and ceiling (
Did you know that ERs in Metropolitan Detroit have metal detectors upon entry? Did you know that having your kid throw up all over the hallway does not get you a bed any quicker? Lesson learned. I started out explaining to every nurse, doctor (twice to the hot ones), orderly, and maintenance worker that Little Bird has Autism and doesn't understand that you're trying to help her. Most of them slowed their speech and raised their voices as though she has a hard time hearing (wtf?) and asked her if her tummy hurts. Ummm, she's freaking exorcist-style vomiting all over your triage, so yes, her tummy probably hurts.
For the most part, everyone was great when I explained the Autism. In fact, it's like it wasn't that unusual to them (hellooooo 1 in 100 and rising). Everyone commented on the fact that she's almost seven and not quite 40 pounds. Yes, I know. That's why we're here- no reserves. When they
It didn't take long before the girl was back to her cute, sweet, sassy self.