Elephants and Tea - One Herd - 24

Our Voices
Through My Eyes
BY CODY MORRISON
fellow, who completely dismissed me and
what I was saying. He walked in with a piece
of paper, introduced himself, and said, " Hi
there Cody, so to start, I'm going to take
down your medical history. " The man had
a small piece of paper , so I told him, " I have
a pretty long medical history, you will want
a longer piece of paper. " He responded, " Oh
no, don't worry, I can write it. "
So, I recited my medical history.
After a minute he said, " Uhhhh . . . give
me a minute, I need to go grab some more
paper. "
He came back and wrote more of my medical
history down; after that, he turned to
my parents and said, " So, is all of this true? "
My parents looked at him and said, " He's
the patient, not us. "
Then the fellow went to go get Dr. O, who
I
'm autistic. In your mind's eye, try to picture an
autistic patient. (Reopen your eyes after a couple
of seconds-you'll want to finish reading this!)
Did you picture a four-year-old White
boy who loves trains and only wears blue?
Well, that's sort of me, except I was never
into trains and I am now 33.
For a lot of people (and insurance
companies), autism seemingly stops at
18-services are nearly nonexistent ,
and it feels like " adult " doctors receive
no training in how to treat neurodiverse
patients. They forever picture autistic
individuals as little kids, never as college
students, adults looking for work,
or someone facing a serious illness. I
want to tell you about my experience
as an autistic adult receiving treatment
for my cancer. However, there is an oft24
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ONE
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said maxim with autism, said by autism
advocate Stephen Shore: " If you've met
one individual with autism, you've met
one individual with autism. "
I have some other disabilities, too. I have
complex partial epilepsy, underdeveloped
musc le s, anx ie t y, and motor sk i l l
dysfunction/deficits, which are my primary
non-autism-related ones.
One doctor I saw-let's call him Dr. O,
was smart and would walk into the room
exuding the energy that said, " I'm smarter
than you, and I know it. " However, he had
the bedside manner of a wet cardboard box.
On my first visit to his office, the first person
who walked into the exam room was his
came in and talked to us about the suspected
diagnosis of large granular lymphocytic
(LGL) leukemia, what subtype he thought I
had-the whole rigamarole. When the appointment
seemed like it was over, he said,
" OK, so we'll be doing another bone marrow
biopsy. " I asked, " When do you want me to
come back for that? "
" Oh no, just go down the street, get a
burger-I heard they're good-then come
back here and we'll do it. "
" Uh no, I can't do that. I'm not prepared
for it. I don't have anything to take-no pain
meds or Ativan or anything. "
" Oh no, you don't need that. My patients
say my bone marrow biopsies don't hurt at
all. They just need some Tylenol and they're
good the next day! "
" No, I can't do this. "
Then he turned to my parents and said,
" Mom, Dad, let's let him freak out, and one
of you go to the nurse's station so they can
get me when he's ready for this. "
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