Goodbye Dad

My Dad passed away after a really nasty battle with cancer on Monday 19th January, 2015.
He is at peace now but I feel the loss keenly, especially as my family circumstances mean that I couldn't make it to the funeral today in Australia; although I do feel very blessed to have been there for his final Christmas. And that he knew I was there. 

Losing a parent brings up a lot of conflicted feelings. As a teenager, then young adult you might have decided that the way that they lived their life wasn't for you and you would follow a different path. Make your own way.

You go through life, you find obstacles and you find success. You have children and decide that you will raise yours differently, be a different parent, you'll do it better, determined not to make their mistakes. 

And then you realise about halfway through a life that has been full of challenges and mistakes, that actually you do a lot of things that are just like your parent. And that a lot of them are pretty good

I can now see that a lot of what has helped me be who I am has come from Dad,

whether through genetics, or absorbed over endless lectures on those Saturday nights when he had had a few too many glasses of cheap wine and wanted to share his wisdom.

"I'll give you the drum" 

he'd say as he told me that if someone told you to reach for the moon, that you should reach for the stars instead. 

That when you have a choice, you should always do the right thing, 

even when it was the more difficult thing.

That you should face problems head on, and do something. He couldn't stand to do nothing and behaved like there was always a solution.
 "Whatta you want me to do?"

That there was no such thing as "nothing to do" 

and if you had nothing to do you should pick up a broom or clean something, until you did have something to do.

"Look the part"  

Advice I have lived by as I am so often asked to do things for which I am vastly under-qualified, but very stylishly dressed.

That you should accept every opportunity and work out how to do it later. (and if you want to look like you know what you're doing; see previous advice)

That when you do try and it's a mess its actually "Good Practice" - Good practice for what? 

Nothing you tried was ever a waste of time, even when it didn't work out.

He taught me to be the salesman, the comedian, to be honest about mistakes and by admitting to them and apologising; to learn.

He taught me that even when you are feeling low, that pretending to be happy would lead to actually feeling that way. Even when you have to go into work with the worst cask wine hangover, smile anyway and eventually everyone will start smiling back at you. And then your smile will be real.

These are the things that live on when a person is gone. These are the things that keep you remembering and keep their memory alive.

Goodbye Dad. xx

14th January 1990

My thanks to my little sister, who let me wallow a bit via Facetime even though she is running around doing all the organising, so I could feel part of the funeral today. 

Thanks also to my most favourite radio DJ Tom Dunne who played a dedication to Dad for me tonight. It's here at Part 2 of the Thursday night 22nd show 3 minutes before the end of the show.

In the red tent

Today I am going to write about puberty and girls, specifically one girl who has autism and is now 15.

Before you get all cross with me, if I thought there was ever a chance that Grace could read this, then I would be asking her to help me write it. Because this is something that Mums (and Dads) need to know.

And before you get squeamish - I'm not going to be writing about the practicalities of managing a period when you have autism and a learning difficulty. You can read all about how our ABA school team managed that here on  "Girls, Autism and Menstruation" which I have put up as a permanent page on the top of my blog.

Our excellent Behavioural supervisor Ann-marie Donovan has written a full guide to how she and her team created a task analysis that taught Gracie how to handle that aspect of her life with privacy, dignity and independence. (which started 2 whole years before her period arrived)

No, this is about that other aspect of being a teenage girl. The maelstrom of hormonal changes which can completely change how she is experiencing Autism.

The "Red Tent" I refer to in the title isn't the kind you read about on "Upworthy"
that is; the practice of "banishing" women to the outskirts of the village during menstruation which sadly goes on today in less developed countries in Africa and Asia. This and the lack of adequate protection and sanitary disposal affects the lives of many women and I'd encourage you to read up about it Here and Here.

No, the "Red Tent" I imagine is a very comfortable one. In my mind it is full of cushions and orthopedic designed recliner chairs with back massagers built in. There is a fridge full of Ben & Jerrys icecream, a medicine press stocked up with Ponstan and a discreet but well stocked bar. (for the Mammys)

It would also have full access to Netflix and an on-demand cable provider with good wifi. There is soft mood lighting with optional white noise sound effects via state of the art headphones and a hot press full of hotwater bottles in fluffy covers. Climate control would be available in zones to allow those experiencing a hot sweat to cool off while others cosy up under feather and down duvets.
There would be a number of marble tiled bathrooms, each with a step in sunken spa bath and rain shower. And black toweling dressing gowns on a warming rail.
Communication would be by text or instant message only (with a 'do not disturb' option)

For too long, women and girls have been encouraged to the point of expectation to ignore and overcome their periods. With discreet protection came an obligation to roller-skate in fountains while wearing short shorts. We are supposed to do gymnastics, compete in diving competitions and give the winning presentation at that board meeting.

Depictions of being curled up in a ball groaning wearing a bulky black tracksuit that barely disguises the giant surfboard sized sanitary napkin are as rare as red ink in period advertising world.
Women have fought to be considered equal and of course I embrace that. But sometimes you just want to put on your black yoga pants and retreat.. to the Red Tent.

And for the last 12 months I have observed that Gracie would like to do that.
12 months ago her medication stopped "working". She wasn't sleeping well every night, her OCD came back and she started having MASSIVE tantrums.
We tried different meds, we tried more meds and in the summer, by accident we tried NO meds. And it made no difference. Well, she lost 9 kilos but experienced exactly the same level of extreme behaviours and mood swings so we decided to keep her off the meds, for good.

Her psychiatrist (who happens to be one of the world's most respected Autism Experts) was perplexed. She told me there is next to no research into how female body chemistry and medication interact and exactly ZERO into how this impacts on Autism and related conditions.


So I began to take data. (the refuge of the behaviourist!) Rather than the complex ABC rating scales that our Psych had given me, I used a simple traffic light system that I could fill in every few days. Green meant it was a good day on recollection, nothing to report. Yellow or Amber (depending on which pencil I had to hand) was an okay day, with maybe a few incidents of screaming or behavioural loops like OCD, and Red was an all out awful day. I also tracked the days of her period in red marker over the shading and drew a blue moon for the nights of sleep disturbance.

Because Sleep Disturbance has been the hardest part of this. Grace was never a good sleeper pre-meds but when this new phase started she began to have 4-6 nights of almost no sleep. She would pace, jump, bang her heels into the wooden floor and on one particularly awful night she got stuck in a loop kicking the radiator. By loop I mean an incident of compulsive behaviour that she is powerless to stop. She wasn't "Self Harming for Purpose" as it says on the rating scales, but just unable to stop performing an action that was leaving her bruised. She wouldn't eat much other than ice cream at these times and she seemed to have difficulty going to the loo. Oh and she would cry a lot. Real heart racking sobs that could go on for hours.

After a bad night she would be so exhausted  that she would sleep the next night, but on day 3 it would start all over again. As you can imagine it was really upsetting. Not just for me being kept awake by the noise. But because I can't seem to do anything to help her to alleviate her distress.
So I changed the environment (my other standby solution) I covered up her radiator with cushions and padding. I moved her bed and put a jumbo beanbag under it to absorb noise and covered the floor with mats, and a couple of old single mattresses inside duvet covers.

I installed a one way video baby monitor that I bought on a buy and sell site and then attached a rubber seal all around her bedroom door to stop it rattling. I even bought a few extra memory foam bathmats for her ensuite to stop her stomping on that floor all night and bruising her feet.
And then, when she was in the "bad zone" I just put her in her room to rage safely.

3 months into taking my data I began to see a pattern. By happy chance school had gone back and I made arrangements to meet a good friend for lunch. One of those friends I have had for years who I can catch up with every 6 months and chat like we saw each other yesterday.
During our lunch we discussed our respective teenage daughters (she has a son with Autism and a very grown up neuro-typical daughter) and I had a revelation.

Maybe this wasn't just about Autism. Maybe this was about BECOMING A WOMAN.

You see, my friend's daughter, like many mid-teens also has rather horrible periods. You forget this when you are 46 but those first few years of finding a rhythm can be bloody awful (pardon the pun) Cramps like a boa-constrictor is crawling around your fallopian tubes, anxiety, hysteria, tension and a tendency to burst into tears.
It was when she told me that her daughter, who plays a popular team sport, gets sent off at least once a month for "taking the head off the ref" (as we say in Ireland) that I realised what was going on with Gracie.

She doesn't have the words to pick a fight with me or her brother once a month. She doesn't have the language to express her anxiety, anger or depression appropriately. She still can't really describe pain.

So she stomps, cries, rages and slams doors. Her anxiety and tension manifests as OCD. This and her body temperature fluctuations and tummy cramps make it impossible to sleep. And since it was all new to her, she didn't know what to do about it.

You know that feeling when you have a horrid cold and are in a lot of pain and you go to the Doctor to be told that it ISN'T JUST A VIRUS, IT'S A REAL INFECTION AND YOU NEED ANTIBIOTICS!
And you feel so much better before you've taken a single capsule just knowing, that you were not just being a giant sook?

Well, Grace doesn't have that. Because she doesn't understand why this little body she has lived in comfortably, as comfortably as her Autism has allowed her; has suddenly decided to up and change on her.
She was able to take the extra body hair, the body odour, even the monthly inconvenience of bleeding in her stride.
But she simply doesn't have the receptive or expressive language for all this other stuff.
 
Grace is staying off behavioural meds for the forseeable future. We are trying the pill next month to see if that will reduce her cramping and make her more comfortable. So we have a "swallowing a pill in one go" program task being planned by her school behavioural director.

Good news is the number of green squares in each month are increasing. (we all have our 'bad' months)

If you are still with me, and you have any particular insights on this, I would love to hear them. Especially but not limited to other females who are on the spectrum and who have experienced a change in body and mind chemistry as a result. There needs to be a lot more research into this for all of us, autistic or not. Because it is not always about Autism.

Tonight she sleeps. xx

My electric friend....

I was really really excited last spring to find out I had been selected to be an ecar ambassador for The Great Electric Drive this year!

But at the same time a bit apprehensive, I mean, what are electric cars actually like?

This?

My niece Emily getting on the low emissions bandwagon....

or this?

The Renault Twizy, on display in Dundrum TC

As it turns out, they are just like any other car, only nicer.

My Nissan Leaf.

Because of my "needs" ie. two teenagers who have to sit a seat apart I was selected to drive the Nissan Leaf, a nice roomy but compact car. And I love Nissans, I have driven 4 of them since I arrived in Ireland in late 2001.

The specs are great. Built in sat nav, blue tooth and a great sounding stereo. There is a little camera yoke in the back that comes on when reversing so you can see if any of the latest batch of children under 3 feet tall are behind you. Electric cars are spookily quiet and the smallish children in our estate are notoriously ignorant of large moving objects like cars when scoot/skate/footballing across our drive.
After driving my diesel Nissan Juke for 2 years - a small car that sounds like a M*A*S*H helicopter taking off, (people duck when they hear it) the Leaf feels like you are floating in a cushion of air.

It is also automatic but not lazy like the cheaper automatics I've driven when I go home to Aus.  It has great torque when you need it to overtake on a hill, but there is a catch...

You have to stop overtaking people on hills.

The range of the Leaf is supposed to be 145 kms on full charge. A full charge at home (where esb ecars installed a charge point for me) takes over 5 hours.

But if you drive like I do, well, like I used to, then that range is vastly reduced. No more speeding up and overtaking on motorways. I've had to slow down and even out my driving a LOT since I got it.

Even then, my daily commute to get the kids to school is 38 kms of motorway driving each way. So I could use over 50% of my charge just doing the morning school run if I don't take it easy. I open windows instead of using the air con and never charge my phone.

That kind of freaked me out, because we are entering flu season and there is every likelihood that I can arrive home after dropping the kids off, only to get a phone call telling me that one of them has just got sick and I have to come straight back.

Without the 4-5 hours to recharge, I could be running on empty.

The M50/M11 which is basically my highway is also very poorly served with fast charge units. There are standard chargers in Sandyford, "The Park" Shopping Centre and the Luas stop at Carrickmines but they take as long as my home charge and there is only so long you can spend wandering around Woodies or TK Max.

Well, today I had a few errands to do around Greystones and Kilcoole so I decided to pootle up the highway to Cullenmore (past Newcastle) and do a fast charge at the big motorway services there.

It took less than 15 minutes to get back up to 80% charge (over a 100 km range) and it took me only 20kms out of my usual commute. It was also very reassuring to stand there and watch the charging meter going beyond the 50% mark so quickly.
Yes, I have become obsessed with my charge since I became the caretaker of an electric car. It is not unlike those people who carry their iPhone charger everywhere and are always looking for a place to plug it in (I used to scorn them)

I actually wandered over to the services to get an early lunch (Burger King meal of the day, very nice hot chippies) then came back to eat it on the boot of the car because it was such a nice sunny day and the outdoor tables were full of smokers.
But in truth there is not a lot to do on the side of the N11 in Cullenmore, County Wicklow. Even the 3G coverage is woeful and there is no wifi (NO WIFI!!! ahhh the humanity!!)

This is all fine for me.  Now that I'm a stay at home Mum again, I do actually have "all day" to charge my car while I potter around the house. But there is an absolute dearth of charging stations in Greystones, so going down the village to do errands means either walking or letting the car run low on charge. I don't mind walking but I don't like carrying big things like juice boxes or soda water home on my back.

I'm not the only Eco-nut in the village. There at least 2 other privately owned Nissan Leafs that I have seen in the last 2 weeks. We live in a beautiful seaside village with lovely outdoorsy coffee shops, we have a regular eco friendly transport service in the Dart; why don't we have charging stations?

So this is my mission for now: Drive smarter, walk a bit more and campaign for fast chargers on the M50 and in Greystones. Because I am heartily converted to this ecar lifestyle. Now I want everyone else to be too.

xx