Our Healing Journey Through ASD Part II

By Jill Hardina

The pediatricians were of almost no help with Nicholas’ issues, and I started to doubt them.
from birth. He would cry an hour after each bottle of formula, but they discouraged me from switching to another formula. After three months of no relief, I tried a lactose-free formula based on advice from another mother. Problem solved.

This brings me back to my own childhood. I was the last of my siblings to have a family doctor while my younger sister was the first to have a pediatrician. She was born with a dislocated hip, but it was my mother, not the pediatrician, who knew something was wrong. Maybe she had more hands-on experience with babies than he did. I wonder if this was a sign of the direction in which health care was going. Catherine Austin Fitts said that her father, who was an M.D., predicted that health care would be destroyed if the U.S. got involved when Medicare was first established. Apparently, he knew what he was talking about.

I had Nicholas completely vaccinated during his first two years, ignoring the concerns about the MMR from a couple of other mothers and the story that had aired on 60 Minutes. It just didn’t make sense to me that a vaccine could cause autism. That was the last time I listened to the pediatricians over other mothers.

The first ear infection occurred at six months, for which an antibiotic was prescribed I eventually realized that I had given him yogurt for the first time before the infection. Similarly, the worst ear infection on his first birthday was when I switched from formula to milk. I asked the pediatrician if he could be somewhat lactose intolerant, to which she flippantly replied, “No, either he is or he isn’t.”

It’s hard for me to believe that this practice has a great reputation in the community. It turned out that their claim to fame was having two separate waiting rooms, one for well-being visits and the other for sick visits. It seemed that only parents whose children were neurotypical were happy with them and that situation seemed to be the norm for all the pediatricians in the area.

By the time he was two years old, he was tripping over his feet because of an unexplained intoeing, he was very small physically, had been given antibiotics, had a steroidal cream for excema, and had taken an antacid for GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease), had diarrhea, wasn’t toilet trained, had hearing so sensitive that he could not go to parades because of the fire engine sirens; he couldn’t eat oranges and vegetables because his skin had turned yellow; he couldn’t eat fruit because apples were causing the vomiting, spent most of his time running and climbing, had terrible diaper rashes, and couldn’t walk a straight line and often bumped into things. He also had sleep issues and was frequently awake for hours during the night. He could only fall asleep either in the car or his highchair while eating. Because of his sensory issues, I could only cut his hair and nails while asleep, meaning he had a nest on the back of his head where I couldn’t reach while he was lying down.

He was also snoring so loudly that we could hear him from his room upstairs while we were downstairs, watching TV. I took him to a couple of allergists and ENT doctors for this, based on word-of-mouth recommendations, even though the pediatrician told me not to take him to an allergist. Either they refused to do food allergy testing or said the “slightly positive” result for dairy meant “negative.” One also said that Nicholas was negative for seasonal allergies. However, when I then took him to a flower show with me, his eyes blew up within minutes. So much for no seasonal allergies.

These doctors diagnosed him with enlarged adenoids but said to hold off doing anything about it. One tried to shrink the adenoids with a nasal spray, but three days after starting on it, he became cranky and clingy, and his hearing became more sensitive. I called the doctor, who replied, “No connection.” I said that this change started three days after starting the medication, but he just repeated, “No connection,” and said that we had to finish the course of treatment. The hearing had become so sensitive that I had to close the windows because he couldn’t stand the sound of the birds outside.

Finally, one evening he started crying and, as he wasn’t talking much, cried, “Down, down, down!” while strapped into his booster seat. I realized the sizzling sound of sautéing on the stove hurt his ears. I called the doctor again, but to no avail. After finishing the two-week course of medication, the adenoids had not shrunk, so we were told to take oral prednisone. As soon as I gave it to him, he threw it up. I called the doctor who said, “You gotta get it down on him.” I repeated that he had thrown it up. He just said repeatedly, “You gotta get it down on him.” You gotta get it down, man? After he had thrown it up, I sat there immobilized, wondering what I was supposed to do.

It was not possible to do what the doctor said to do. I started to feel like I was in a trance, floating through the next couple of days, arguing with myself, but not coming up with any answers. At the end of the weekend, I snapped out of it and said to myself, “I’m not doing this anymore. These doctors don’t know what they’re doing, and I need to find answers. I don’t know what they are but I’ve got to start looking.” I call that my “Vision Quest,” the beginning of my search.

Just a footnote to that doctor story: I was told then that my niece had had a reaction to asthma medication, similar to Nicholas’ reaction, about ten years prior. However, her doctor admitted it was caused by the medication. I guess times may have changed.

I had heard there was some kind of diet for hyperactivity, and I asked the pediatrician about this at his three-year checkup. She adamantly declared, “Diet absolutely does not work. Medication is the only thing that works.”

I started reading about alternative medicine. One of the first books that was recommended, “Unraveling the Mystery of Autism” by Karyn Seroussi discusses the role of dairy and gluten in autism. I feigned needing a sick visit so we could see one of the younger pediatricians, whom I had had a good experience with, just to ask her to test him for a gluten allergy. She agreed reluctantly, saying that it was “trendy” and admitted she wasn’t familiar with the test. She claimed that because only one of three tests came back positive; he was negative.

Another memorable pediatric visit that year was to a young pediatrician who was new to the staff. As I told her our story, she wrote the name of a doctor on a slip of paper and quietly slipped it into my hand and said that another patient had told her that this doctor had helped her son. I then overheard this pediatrician was practically in tears on the phone with a doctor friend, saying that she had tried all the accepted treatments for another patient but was unable to help him. I almost felt sorry for her, but thought, “Well, now she knows the frustration parents feel.” The name on the paper was Dr. Kenneth Bock, who is in upstate New York. I read his book, “The Road to Immunity: How to Survive and Thrive in a Toxic World,” which taught me much about nutrition, especially the importance of omegas.

Another book that gave me direction was “Helping Your ADD Child: Hundreds of Practical Solutions for Parents and Teachers of ADD Children and Teens (with or without Hyperactivity),” by John Taylor. I gave Nicholas blue-green algae based on his recommendation. I later found out that spirulina and chlorella are similar; all can be found in health food stores and come in powder and tablets. I knew he wouldn’t take a tablet, so I mixed the powder into something, such as pasta sauce. It’s very potent and turns everything dark green, so I only used a tiny amount. At that point, even though he knew his colors, he couldn’t distinguish between blue and green, but after three weeks on this supplement, while playing Candy Land, he was able to distinguish between them for the first time. I knew I was on to something.

When he was four or five, I took him in for an ear infection, where he saw the nurse practitioner. Of course, we left with a proscription for an antibiotic. By that time, I found the ear infections would go away on their own. The nurse practitioner was surprised that I wasn’t taking any medication and neither was my ex husband on heart medication. I thought to myself, “So this is what we’ve come to. She’s assuming all men take heart medication.”

I then doubled down on my efforts to try to find another pediatrician. One common theme I find repeated over and over in my struggle to care for my son is that so-called medical experts led me to more harm than good. Get as much information as you can by talking to other mothers and people who have been in your shoes, reading everything you can, attending workshops, etc.

Most of all, avoid classical pediatricians, whose practices are buttressed by pharmaceuticals. Unfortunately, it’s a sad reality that today we need to realize that those professions we used to think of as “helping” professions have been captured by a powerful cartel. We are on our own, and we have to take care of ourselves.

Bio:

Jill Hardina resides in the Poconos and is an advisor to the Pennsylvania Chapter of CHD. Jill was very fortunate to be able to retire from teaching in NYC after about thirty years—two years ago, when the DOE mandated the COVID shot. She knew not to get the shot because of prior experience with vaccines. She had a reaction to the DPT booster when she was twelve; as discussed here, her son was vaccine injured, and she saw the children in her class regress after getting the Swine Flu shot in 2009. She feels that these children are our sacrificial lambs.