I know, bloody amazing. Don't think it happens these days... in fact, not sure we'd even get a diagnosis on the NHS in anything less than three years these days, but that's for another post.
Anyway, this woman was wonderful and, for a newly diagnosed couple (because, through Ethan's diagnosis, I by association was also diagnosed as 'being married to an autistic spouse', which, for me, was just as big a reality to get my head around). With three young kids and an already overwhelming life, for a couple who knew absolutely nothing about how to navigate life with autism, her wisdom, calm approach and realistic sense of humour were a lifeline.
She had loads of tips around managing the demands of family life, communicating more effectively together, giving Ethan time to process information, building in downtime to his day and managing social situations.
But then we spoke about driving.
Autistic road rage
When I described Ethan's extremely short patience levels behind the wheel:
- how he would have an opinion on how everyone else should drive and would flash, honk and agressively stare into people's cars as he overtook them
- how he would have no patience for any driver showing any kind of hesitation or making tiny mistakes (being in the wrong lane, for example) or going even a few miles slower than the speed limit and would shout at them from inside his 'safe place'
- how he would get angry with anyone who didn't give way to him but would rarely give way to anyone else
- how he would drive too fast, slam the breaks on, accelarate hard, take corners too fast, push into queues, lane hop and generally create a really unpleasant drive for his passengers - not applying any of the rules he judged everyone else by to himself
Ethan accepted that what I was saying was true (and looked suitably reprimanded, which, honestly, wasn't my intention, I just wanted to know how to make it better as we literally couldn't be in the same car together without a blow-up).
We both waited for her words of wisdom which would revolutionise our driving experience....
Accept the things you cannot change
And she said. 'Those things aren't going to change. My advice is, as much as possible, try not to be in a car with him.'
The thing is, there are accepted and well established rules around driving - something an autistic brain loves. Rules make things predicatable and safe. So when people break these rules, it threatens Ethan's sense of order, his feeling of being in control and of knowing what's coming.
'But he breaks these rules' I say.
'That's different,' says our counsellor, 'because it's him breaking them. He's still in control.'
I must look disparaging, and indignant. I certainly feel it. And the counsellor must see that.
'I wouldn't even try to change his driving,' she says, calmly but firmly. 'You'll just get yourself incredibly frustrated'.
Thirteen years on, I would say he's got a little bit better. The aggressive stares into other people's cars are now more like glances. When he's functioning at his best, he will hold back from raging at people when they make mistakes.
And I've learnt not to judge who he is and how likeable he is - or, more to the point, isn't - by how he drives. It's simply one of the most triggering places for him to be.
Other drivers - how dare they even be on the road?!
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