Five years ago today we sat in a doctor’s office, arriving early for a 9am appointment. Mason was fidgety and nervous. Even at a young 19 months of age he didn’t care for doctors, nurses or anyone related with the staff despite how cheerful they were with him.

His defenses were up at all times.

Rashele had long suspected something was amiss in Mason’s progress. I, the clueless husband, shrugged it off assuming all was well and he was just going at his own pace.

He wasn’t.

Dr. V… or Dr. Quiet Talker as I called him, the pediatric neurologist that we were referred to, after observing tests and reviewing notes whispered his thoughts.

Diagnosis official…P.D.D. with Autistic Tendencies. Mason fidgeted and spun the wheels on a nearby toy all the while protesting his need to be there and constantly making his way to the door. I repeatedly blocked his path.

Dark times.

But we are all better for it now.

It made both Rashele and I stronger individuals, in addition to further cementing our marriage. (though it didn't always feel like it at the time)

Since the diagnosis Mason’s story has been well documented in my past blog entries. I found it therapeutic for me to keep a written record of the journey.

He’s done hundreds if not thousands of hours in therapy, while we’ve spent thousands and thousands of dollars to keep him there. Only recently have we let up on the daily mad dash for various appointments in the afternoon. He recently stopped occupational therapy since he was testing on target for his age group. And physical therapy ended last year when he accomplished great strides and also tested in line with other kids his age.

Our ongoing speech and oral motor therapy with Megan the Magnificent ended recently when she, Rashele and I came to the conclusion that he was making strides there as well.

Academically he’s doing well and spending most of his day in a mainstreamed first grade class with an aide to assist him as needed.

We still struggle with social relationships, but judging from Mason’s absolute and total infatuation with Claire’s best friend whom comes over to play on occasion, that may be changing too.

He follows her like a puppy dog always vying for her attention.