Our family was on the leading edge of the autism epidemic. The mild case was born in '87; the severe one in '89. Now so many more come behind us.
This article is about our life, and even more about what our life would be if we had not moved to Minnesota, home of pinko bleeding heart socialist government that actually took the burden off of us.
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Tom is an excellent consumer. He creates jobs. That $100,000 expense doesn't evaporate into thin air. It pays salaries, and rent, and med/psychiatric providers. Autism is a growth market and a lot of people will make a lot of money. Legitimately even. You and I could make a killing as consultants if we had the stomach for it. I recently saw an Android game app advertised to the general market but the description devoted a paragraph to how the game is well liked by autistic users.
The population is getting older, more demented, more autistic, more afflicted by disabilities that used to kill people but now merely render them unable to work or care for themselves. Maybe society goes bankrupt, I think it's more likely society will figure out how to manage these clients more cost-effectively and we'll all go into the care-giver business. Eugenics got a bad reputation and there are still voting blocks that want to outlaw The Pill, so the Final Solution won't be an option anytime soon.
When my Dad's Alzheimer's became too pronounced to ignore anymore, I found him a slot in an assisted-care facility designed specifically for clients with Alzheimer's. The building was designed to help residents be as self-sufficient as possible (no dead ends, the hallways loop around so wanderers just keep going). It was located in our home town, which has an economy so depressed that working as an attendant in the home was a Good Job. Dad's care was excellent and the price much lower than the local nursing homes or any facility in a location with a functional economy. We have a lot of towns with dying economies, we have a lot of people out of work, and we have a lot of disabled people who need care and a society that isn't ready to shoot them or maroon them on islands. So I think the path forward is clear.
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I sometimes speculate on what I would do if I were magically given the ability to reverse his brain wiring and make him neuro-typical. It wouldn't be my choice but his, and heaven only knows what neuro-typ would mean in his case. But I couldn't do it anyway because I strongly suspect he'd have to change majors because nobody with a "normal" brain could possibly be a jazz pianist.
Apparently we went through all this grief so the world can have rocket scientists, string theory, and the knowledge of when to play a Dorian scale when solo'ing over diminished chords. That's something to contemplate on Mothers' Day. Preferably over a large margarita. There better be some margaritas left after this weekend.
How's J? You guys coming for Worldcon?
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