That Fateful Day

That Fateful Day
By Susan Lynn Perry

"Honey," my husband said breathlessly, "I've just landed in Dallas and I've got to catch the van to the hotel." He paused, panting. "I know it's late, but I'm going to call you as soon as I get to the hotel. I've got something really exciting to tell you."

Now, you've got to understand something about my husband, Dave. It's not very often that I hear him really excited or really upset about anything. He's just not wired that way. He's a very kind-hearted, easy-going, loving man that seems to handle everything as it comes in a rather rational, analytical way.

But breathless and panting? Well, prior to this day, I had only heard him that way under certain conditions best left to your imagination. I knew this had to be something big, so I kept an eye on the clock. The minutes seemed to drag by, and when the phone finally rang, I pounced.

Thankfully, it was Dave and he was as animated as he had been earlier. He quickly told me about the man who sat next to him on the plane. They had gone through pilot-training school some ten years ago and hadn't seen each other since.

As they started talking about wives and families, my husband told his friend, D.J., about our son and his recent diagnosis of autism. He explained that we didn't really agree with the diagnosis, but thought that maybe there was some other underlying issue going on.

D.J. could barely contain himself. He started asking Dave a lot of very detailed questions about Justin.

Does he line up his toys in neat little rows?
Does he like to build pillow stacks over and over again?
Does he tend to shove all of his food in his mouth at once?
Does he have any repetitive behavior?
Was he on lots of antibiotics as a baby?

And on and on and on.....

It was amazing how much D.J. seemed to know about our son's behavior. He had never met Justin and yet he was describing him perfectly. The two men continued their animated conversation as the plane touched down in Dallas.

Dave found out that DJ and his wife had a daughter who had been given the same diagnosis as Justin. They had already gone through much of what we were going through, and D.J. wanted to offer us some sound advice.

"It's not too late for Justin," he told Dave, while pulling a huge folder out of his briefcase. "Call your wife and tell her to go to www.generationrescue.org. Tell her to research the website and then get yourself a DAN! doctor." (DAN! stands for Defeat Autism Now! and offers a protocol of treatment for parents dealing with an autism diagnosis.)

D.J. and his wife had already spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to get to the bottom of their daughter's bizarre behavior and ongoing health problems. They eventually found out that she didn't have a genetic form of autism at all - as they had initially been led to believe. She had mercury poisoning. Fortunately, there's a treatment for heavy metal toxicity.

"But you have to get started now," he warned Dave, while showing him countless reports and research statistics. "Don't waste another minute, because early intervention is key."

As soon as I hung up the phone with Dave, I went straight to the website. I read and researched for the next several hours. I was amazed at how many of the testimonials listed on the website sounded just like our son.

I began to feel a little hope for the first time in weeks.

Justin had been having a pretty difficult time for almost two years. His physical health was always at risk from seemingly every germ flying around at daycare. He had a constant runny nose and cough, with intermittent spurts of ear aches, diarrhea, fevers, bronchitis and stomach problems.

And his behavior was erratic at best and alarming at worst. I never knew from day to day what sort of peculiar things he would be doing and what sort of disturbing reports I might get from the daycare. We'd already tried out several different daycare settings and nothing seemed to help.

I felt like I was losing my little boy.

Now, for the first time in a long time, I felt an energy and excitement surging through my body and brain. Could it be? Could there be some sort of treatment for Justin?

I ordered some of the suggested supplements and started searching for a DAN! doctor. There were only three in my city and each seemed to be a dead end. They either didn't return my calls or were no longer taking new patients.

I started making more calls and finally found a biomedical clinic in the next closest city. As fate would have it, it just so happened to be the one in our state at the forefront of current research into autism as a multi-sensory, multi-system condition. I immediately filled out their new patient packet and sent it in.

Over the next few days, I started slowly incorporating some of the nutritional supplements into Justin's diet. Within a week, I suddenly had a little boy who seemed to be more alert and happy. I was what you might call .... cautiously optimistic.

I collected all of his vaccination information, medical records and prescription information and formulated a timeline of his entire medical history. Then I organized all of the information into a big, index-tabbed, color-coded binder to send off to the new doctor in preparation for our consultation. My time and effort paid off handsomely.

Not only were the doctors impressed with all of the research and work I had done, but it allowed them to immediately focus on Justin and what we needed to do to get him feeling better. We continued treating him with supplements and we continued to notice his improved speech and behavior.

He just seemed to feel better.

We started him in a new class with an emphasis on speech therapy, and then put him on a gluten-free, casein-free diet. His health and behavior issues continued to improve. Then we ran some medical diagnostic tests to find out all of the issues going on internally. We treated those and received additional improvements.

The next step was to run more tests to see if he might have any heavy metal issues. Lo and behold, the tests came back with mercury, aluminum and lead. We are currently in the process of helping him to detoxify those heavy metals, and having superb results.

This story is far from over. With each careful step, we have begun to unravel the mystery of our son's autism. The diagnosis was given to us with the understanding that there is no cure. Now, we know that simply isn't true - at least not in our case.

Today, just three months after that fateful day in Dallas, we have a little boy who is on the road to recovery. We're not there yet, but we're definitely on our way. We were give a priceless gift on that plane ride to Dallas; one that can never be repaid, except by sharing the information with others.

In addition, we've learned to appreciate every single day.

Every single day has taught us to rejoice in even the smallest accomplishments, because they are, in essence, incredible victories. Every single day reminds us of how precious a new word, simple understanding or loving action can be. Every single day makes us realize how truly blessed and lucky we are.

Because none of this would have happened were it not for that Fateful Day.