Welcome to a Panic Attack Monday. I can say that now and giggle a little bit…knowing that all conditions are favorable for a full-on panic attack to occur but thanks to my awareness of my internal warning system, I can generally put a stop to it before it gets to a Level 1 emergency. Some deep cleansing breaths and I’m fine. Slow breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. We can get a little fancier and do a seven count in, hold for seven, release for seven and do that seven times. Whatever it takes.

Why can money send most people into a full-blown tailspin???

This happens every once in awhile with me. January is a no-brainer, everybody goes a little goofy in January when all the Christmas bills start showing up. I was actually very well-behaved this holiday season and maybe that’s why this is a little extra nerve-racking.

I remember back when I was making a quarter of what I make now and it seemed like I was living so much larger then…how does that work? Fine…I have a bigger mortgage now, the electric bill is insane, life just gets more expensive…blah, blah, blah. But still. Seriously?

All it takes is one good look in the kitchen and I see a big chunk of my salary. It’s all in that plastic tub. A $138 prescription here, a $65 supplement there, a $70 chelator here and a $85 digestive enzyme there. And that’s just the beginning. Really. Currently, we are giving Jakob 19 different prescriptions, vitamins and supplements and we’ll be adding at least 2 more in the next few weeks. They range from $20-$145 each per month. And insurance doesn’t cover much of it.

Autism sure can be pricey. It can break people. It may break me.

But what do I do? Which do I stop? When he’s doing so great, what do we give up? When do we say enough is enough?

As the heart palpitations began to pick up their pace and I was starting to get pissed, I decided to walk away from the bank statement. I jammed it into my purse and went down the stairs to the playroom 2-way mirror so I could take a look at my cute kid while he played with Susan, our Son-Rise Outreach Facilitator who’s in from Michigan for the day. I continued my breathing exercises as I just watched. He’s such a happy kid, he laughs a lot. He’s engaged and he’s being silly. He’s making eye contact and he’s connecting. He’s not the same kid he was three years ago when we started Son Rise and the heavy-duty biomedical intervention. He’s not even the same kid he was three weeks ago.

I have to be careful while watching him through the 2-way mirror. Since he insists on all lights being on, he can see me on the other side of the glass if he gets right up on it. I wasn’t quite fast enough to get out of the way and he spotted me (I swear he senses my presence through the wall and that’s why he runs to the mirror). I started to cuss a little at myself for being so slow when I heard this little voice say “Hi Mom”.

I turned around to see this adorable smiling face as he said it again, “Hi Mom”. I smiled back and signed “I love you”. And he said “I love you more”.

Then I blew him a kiss and he blew one right back. I just smiled and turned to walk up the stairs and he said, “No bye-bye Mom”.

So I went to the window, pressed my face up against the glass and he gave me the biggest grin. I told him, “I’ll be in to play at 2:00”. So naturally, he said, “No 2:00, 1:58”.

This is a child who never spoke, who never cared if I was in the same room, who screamed and threw tantrums,somedays non-stop. He would hit me, kick me and not let me hold him. He didn’t want any part of anybody, anytime.

“Hi Mom. I love you more. No bye-bye Mom.”

Panic attack over. Decision made. Other stuff will have to go first…even if it’s the house, the car, the clothes, the shoes, the hair…(ouch). I mean it.

“Hi Mom. I love you more. No bye-bye Mom.”

Worth every penny.