We spent five days in the hospital in Munich. My father and Step Mother stayed in accommodation provided by the Franciscan Monks, which was basic but immensely friendly and supportive. Step Mum bought me and little man new undies and T-Shirts from C&A's and we then carried our worldly possessions around in their plastic bags all week.
Those five day are blurred into one now and I can't remember exactly what happened and when. I can remember the look on one of the consultants faces when she observed little man making stimming movements with his head, moving it from side to side. They carried out an MRI and an EEG, I was impressed at receiving both in just one week, something unheard of under the NHS. All the staff were wonderful and I remember laughing with the EEG lady when I asked if she was ok being in our holiday photo's and her smiling at the camera whilst she placed electrodes on little mans head. I recall converting stones into pounds and then into kilo's in my best German, for the anaesthesia for the MRI, hoping I'd got it right. (I'm sure they checked!!) Then sitting along side another Mum waiting for the test and passing her tissue's saying "Me also" and smiling.
The tests showed nothing abnormal but we were offered an extra two weeks there for further tests and assessments. One afternoon, after a session in the play room we couldn't get back to the ward as one of the adolescent boys was trashing the room. If I'd known then that Autism was a spectrum and about meltdowns I probably would have said yes to the further two weeks and I'm sure I would have got an earlier diagnosis. But it was a strain, I had a job to hold down, I was worried about my father and my step mother who I knew would not leave my side and I just really wanted to get home, to get back to normal. I wasn't ready to stay there at that point.
The nights were restless with thunderstorms rolling in each evening from the Bavarian mountains. I had to put my fingers in little ones ears in order to block out the sound so he could drift into sleep. I was worn out. The night we left I went to the home of the Franciscan Friars and again met Maximillian. He must have sensed my apprehension about the journey home. Now I'm not a religious person, I believe that love, compassion and kindness are all human traits to be celebrated as such, nothing more, but as he placed his hand on our heads and blessed us I was truly thankful. He gave my little man a knitted soft toy which we now call Maximillian the guardian dolphin and it gave us the little added bit of hope and strength that we needed to continue on our way safely back to our lives.
