On Saturday, Alan decided to take Suruli and Maggie to the Los Angeles Zoo to spend some time with his younger grandchildren and give the two sets of parents a break.
Amita graded, as well as do research, both academic and personal. Charlie worked with the student, whose dissertation he was advising and whose wife took care of Suruli on weekdays. After the student left, Charlie worked on an article for a math journal. Eventually, Amita joined him in the solarium. She had been doing her work in the dining room.
"Charlie, we need to talk." Amita had some papers in her hand.
The hairs on the back of Charlie's neck stood up, but he said nothing.
Amita continued "I'm enrolling Suruli in a special preschool when he turns three."
"What?"
"The Pasadena Unified School District offers services and one of them is a preschool for special needs kids."
"Suruli is not special needs."
"Something's going on," Amita insisted. "The sooner you accept that, the better it is for him."
"You mean the sooner I agree with you the better," Charlie snapped.
"Why won't you accept the reality?" Amita demanded.
Before Charlie could say anything, Alan came into the solarium with a somber face.
"What happened?" Amita asked with worry. She didn't expect him to be back for some time.
"Suruli had a tantrum," Alan said.
"Where is he now?" Charlie asked.
"In the living room, playing with his cars."
"What caused the tantrum?" Amita asked.
"It all started when he found a toy plane on the floor, and started playing with it. Turns out it belonged to another slightly older boy, who came to us and said that plane was his. Suruli refused to give him the plane, so I gently took it from him, and gave it back to the other kid. Suruli started to have a tantrum. I threatened to take him and Maggie home, and here we are."
"Has he calmed down?" Amita asked.
"Yeah," Alan said.
Amita went to see her son, who seemed immersed in the world of his cars; lining them up in some order she couldn't figure out, getting them one by one and doing various things with them, then lining them up again.
Charlie soon came to join her. "I used to do weird stuff all the time at his age."
Instead of answering Amita took a car from the lineup, causing the boy to start having a tantrum and even hit Amita.
Charlie grabbed Suruli by a wrist. "No! Don't you ever hit Mommy! You're going to the corner!" He took the two and a half year old to a corner and tried to make him stay there, but the boy kept having his tantrum, and refused to stay still. Charlie left him there, but the boy left the corner, crying and yelling.
"See," Amita said.
"This is just the terrible twos," Charlie countered. "Suruli! Go to the corner!" The boy ignored him.
"Charlie, I've seen kids have tantrums in stores, and this looks worse." Amita was worried.
"That's because you're the mother in this situation," Charlie tried to assure her.
"What's going on?" Alan asked, coming out of the solarium
"Suruli hit Amita!" Charlie said. "Because she moved one of his cars. I tried the time out technique but he refuses to stay put."
"Let him cry it out," Alan suggested. "That's how your mother and I used to handle tantrums."
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Hugh sensed tension upon coming home on Sunday evening. "Hey everyone!" he called upon coming in.
"How'd it go?" Alan asked, sitting in his favorite recliner. He was reading the newspaper, Charlie was doing research. Suruli was in his playpen with a toy truck, and Amita was working at her laptop.
"Great! I saw a movie with Mom, and we hung out," Hugh said, and went to his brother's playpen. "Hey Suruli!" The child did not answer, but just moved the toy truck back and forth.
"Suruli?" Amita prompted. "Aren't you gonna say hi to Hugh?"
Instead of responding, Suruli continued to play with the toy truck, moving it back and forth some more.
"He sure loves that truck," Hugh mumbled.
Amita said to Alan and Hugh, "I've been doing some research, and hearing problems could account for Suruli's speech delay. I'm having the pediatrician give me the referral for a hearing test."
"That's a good idea," Alan said. "My wife and I also suspected hearing problems when Charlie was slow in talking. She even banged two pots together, close to him, as a test. We never thought we'd be happy to hear him scream his lungs out."
"Einstein was a slow talker," Charlie reminded everybody. "And I turned out fine. Some people say I talk too much."
"Let's see what the pediatrician says," Amita said.
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Amita, with a reluctant Charlie, took Suruli to his pediatrician. After some waiting in the waiting room, and more waiting in an examination room, she finally showed up.
"Good morning. Sorry I'm late," the pediatrician, named Dr. Velasquez, turned to the two and a half year old. "How are you little guy?" Suruli did not even acknowledge the doctor, but only at picking at the wheels of the toy ambulance.
"Suruli? Say hi to the doctor," Amita prompted, with no success.
Velasquez shrugged. "That's alright. You can say hi later." She looked at the child's record. "What brings you here today?"
"We're worried that Suruli might have some sort of speech delay," Amita said. "And he tunes people out, as you just saw."
Gently, the pediatrician tried, with an otoscope and magnifying glass, to look into the child's right ear, but he squirmed, and covered his ears.
"Suruli! Let the doctor see your ears," Amita coaxed him, holding his arms. Finally, the doctor got a quick peek at both ears.
"Both ears look fine. No damage was done by any infections."
"I'd feel better if I could have his hearing tested," Amita said diplomatically. "He doesn't talk at all."
"At all? No phrases, or baby words?"
"He used to, but then stopped," Amita said.
"Does Suruli point?"
Amita replied, "No. I would like to have him tested for autism, hearing disabilities, and anything else that could account for his speech delay."
"Let's do one thing at a time," the doctor suggested. "I'll do the referral for an audiologist, to have his hearing checked. Afterward, we can talk about the results and where to go from there."
"Fair enough," Amita agreed, but strong in her resolve to be an advocate for her son.
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The audiologist, after the hearing test, told the couple that Suruli's hearing was 'fine and within normal range.' Afterward, they, with Suruli in tow, drove home.
The car ride was mostly silent, until Charlie asked, "How many tests do we have to subject him to before you're satisfied?"
"As many as it takes." Amita made a furious right turn. "Charlie, when you ask questions like that, I feel like you're in denial about our son."
"I'm just being rational," Charlie countered. "We can't panic just because he doesn't reach every milestone at some theoretical time designated by someone who's probably never had kids."
"What would you have me do? Wait until he's at school, way behind the other children? Now is the time to act."
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The couple, after a few weeks then went to a developmental pediatrician, who told them his diagnosis after asking many questions, as well as interacting and examining the child, "Developmental delay."
"Developmental Delay?" Charlie repeated somberly.
"He's not talking at age level, at all, and seems to have trouble following directions," Chidders told the couple. "I recommend speech therapy."
"What about Pervasive Developmental Disorder?" Amita asked.
"He doesn't fit the criteria," Chidders replied.
"He doesnt' make eye contact, and seems to live in his own world," Amita pointed out.
"He did make eye contact with me," the doctor told her.
"You held a toy car," Amita countered. "What about the tantrums and the hitting?"
"That's typical behavior for a kid his age."
"And the unusual play? He lines up his toy cars at home," Amita said.
"Who's to say what's unusual play?" Chidders told her. "Kids his age are eccentric by nature."
"His used to babble and coo. Now he doesn't."
"Dr. Ramanujan, you are more than welcome to get a second opinion." The doctor said diplomatically. "But all the concerns you have about your son are connected to a developmental delay. I recommend Speech therapy"
"Thank you, doctor," Charlie picked up Suruli. "For you time."
With that, the family left.
"We need to see another Developmental Pediatrician," Amita said when they were near the car. "He didn't see the whole picture."
"Why are you so fixated on Suruli having a diagnosis of autism?" Charlie put the boy in his toddler seat.
"I'm fixated on him getting the right diagnosis and the help he needs," Amita said, as the couple got in the car.
"He's getting help. We're taking him to speech therapy," Charlie reminded her.
"He needs a lot mother's intuition tells me that what Suruli has is not just a developmental delay." Amita put on her seatbelt as Charlie started the car.
"You're a scientist, Amita," Charlie said, as if to remind her.
"And I think like one!" Amita snapped. "I've been doing a lot of research on autism."
"Look, why don't we give the speech therapy a chance?" Charlie suggested. "And aren't we enrolling him at a preschool with special services? Let's see what happens."
"With autism early intervention is the key," Amita said.
"If it'll make you feel better, we can go to another Developmental Pediatrician," Charlie compromised.
"Let's do that," Amita said.
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Back at the house, Charlie, with Suruli in his arms, told Hugh and Alan Chidder's diagnosis.
"Developmental Delay," Alan repeated.
"The doctor recommended that we take him to speech therapy," Charlie added.
"He needs more that that, though," Amita said.
"You disagree with the doctor?" Alan asked.
"I still think that Suruli has some sort of autism. The Developmental Pediatrician didn't get the whole picture."
Charlie suddenly said, "I'll bath Suruli and read him his story."
"I'll go finish my homework," Hugh said.
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After the long, difficult bath, Suruli was dried, and put into his pajamas.
Charlie then started to read a pop up book about cars, from the stack of books Amita had gotten from the library.
"Look! Cars!" Charlie opened the first page. The boy miraculously looked up from his toy, and started pulling at the pop up car.
"Suruli! No!" Charlie removed the boy's hand. "It's from the library." Suruli put out his hand again, and tore what was once the openable hood of the pop up car.
"Just for that, you're going straight to bed!" Charlie scolded the boy. "You don't treat library books that way!" With that, Charlie put the two and half year old in the large crib. Deciding to pick his battles, Charlie left the boy with the toy in his hand, and just left the room, turning off the lights.
TBC