Throughout my early life, I suffered in silence, and the depth didn't show until 1979 when I observed my son's heart-wrenching birth and watched helplessly as my bewildered wife endured excruciating pain. Later, I listened to a doctor label my son autistic. What the hell is autistic? Back then; I had never heard the phrase developmental, neural disorder. Not having any experience, I relied on the doctors' authority and professionalism. I depended on them for answers, and still, there was no meaningful support or information on which I could take advantage. I knew there was something divinely special and real about my son, and that kept me inspired and motivated; I would not accept that there was nothing I could do to help him. Also, the guesses and misinformation that I had to endure were unacceptable, yet I had to keep silent for fear of causing more issues for my speechless son. Looking back, I had no other choice. I had to walk a fine line. I was resigned to the fact that my son cou
Daniel James Wilson, Daniel James Wilson Djw
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29 March 2020
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