Well, methinks I’ve created a new hashtag: #AutisticBodies
I wonder why this wasn’t already there.
Autistic bodies behaving differently from the normative is something most autistic people have already known and tried to explain to various people and collectives of professionals, whether autism-focused or just practitioners in healthcare, mental health etc. If our brains are wired differently, then why is it not yet common knowledge that our bodies respond differently too? The neurological functionality is inextricably connected with the physiological – how my brain works does impact how my body works. Not rocket science, is it, especially in this day and age.
I haven’t been babbling and waffling around here in Bunnyhopscotch for some time. I’ve been rushing around the UK on a whirlwind exploration (for work, not on holiday) and then fell ill three days after I returned home. There I was, feeling pleased as punch that I did not have any jet lag and almost smug about not being hit by a serious flare up associated with any of my autoimmune conditions.
Then three days ago, Lucy did something she hadn’t done in a long time. She suddenly got up from her day bed near me in the living where I was hard at work, went into our bedroom, and began to bark at me. Then she came out, paced, and returned to the room. When I finally extricated myself from my work and went to look at her, she was lying on my bed, head up, eyes alert and looking straight at me. I knew she was telling me to go to bed. She was providing a sensory warning, like she used to do in our good old days in Sydney, Australia. I squeezed into my bed next to her and fell asleep in a spooning position. This is another unusual thing. Lucy doesn’t normally like touching when we are sleeping, but only when I am really unwell, she allows it, and even initiates it. We both snoozed for three full hours. Very badly needed.
However, the day, I returned to working all day, and pushed my body over its limits in typical intensely focused Autie manner. And of course, on the third morning, the ominous gong struck, that all-too-familiar-but-not-welcome tritone of foreboding that has a warped, bendy fizz to its lower registers while the higher dance around with metal-tipped ballet shoes on a tight hard surface. My body was issuing a stern warning: a nasty infection has creep up upon me and I need to address it NOW, before it goes into full bloom, full blown incapacitating horror.
Yep, a simple common cold and cough, if left to fester and “recover naturally” from, usually mutates into months long hacking, coughing, bronchial asthmatic conniptions of quite desperately catastrophic proportions. The last time this happened, I completely lost my voice. While losing my voice altogether is pretty extreme, the more ordinary progression leads to prolonged agony for myself and others around me having to witness the grand debacle.
Well, I have a big exhibition coming up in January, a brand new iteration of ‘Clement Space’, commissioned by the National Gallery, Singapore.
And I am also performing in a multi-artform show, also at the National Gallery in January. It will be Singapore’s first professional performance by an all-disabled cast, directed by Peter Sau, the only director in Singapore I trust enough (quality of work + integrity + respectful dedication to artists with disabilities) to work with at present.
This is why I cannot afford the luxury of being sick in typical Bunny manner, especially since the Bunny style comes with all its theatrical extremes.
Trying to quell the panic, I attempted first to coax my body away from the precipice via the oft-touted ‘natural’ way – Vitamin C + D + Zinc – though I seriously cannot understand how inundating the body with copious amounts of this stuff can be considered at all ‘natural’. Anyway, having lived in my body with acute sensory awareness for more than half a century, I know it reasonably well. Twenty-four hours is all I need to know that this stubborn blob of flesh, blood and whatnot else was showing no signs of budging from its determined course into the abyss. So, yesterday morning, I launched myself halfway across the country (it’s a very small one, but we are just overly dramatic about distances here) into the busy clinic of my new regular doctor. Why travel 30 minutes or more just to see a doctor, one may ask, in a tiny city like Singapore literally teeming with GP clinics? Simple. This doctor respects my autistic embodiment, listens to me attentively and works with me for the best possible solutions to my physical issues while also considering mental wellbeing and my unique situation regarding work, maintaining a balance between my Autistic Joy and being able to function at all.
In a nutshell, I told my doctor to whack me with the strongest stuff he could safely administer. I went home armed with a bagful of pills and a bottle of vile smelling dark coloured liquid, and almost enthusiastically plunged into the bag like it was some goodie bag from a wild party. Voila! Yes, really, I did feel almost instantly better!
But guess what? The medications that the doctor said would help me to sleep – i.e. inducing drowsy woozy states – kept me up all night instead. It is almost eerie, because I am all bouncy and full of beans, and I didn’t even drink a drop of coffee all day yesterday. Needless to say Lucy was not at all pleased with me.
Autistic Bodies Behaving Strangely.
We should get together – us Auties and our friendly supportive GPs and healthcare providers – to conduct a study, write a book about how autistic bodies present, respond and behave differently to different common healthcare approaches and medications, and we shall all become fabulously famous for it. OK, maybe not the fabulously famous part, but in all seriousness, more much research should be done in this area. It is important. Isn’t it? The health of our bodies are just as crucial to our ability to cope and thrive as are other aspects that are already churning and heaving in the sea of autism-interrogation like socialising etc, yes? Maybe even far more, simply because a well person is a happier person and able to function more optimally according to the individual’s paradigm. Isn’t this reason enough?
Righto, enough of flubbing around here. Time to get back to work. Tally ho, Bunny and Lucy!