Well there I am in the office of the pediatrician and she is talking but I am not really hearing what she is saying. I can also hear my wife answering and generally being gushing about how we were faced with a challenge which will be life changing, but we are up to the challenge, etc, etc, blah, blah. But I knew that was all a facade and really underneath she was paddling like hell. For me, I was a little stunned because I was fast realizing that it was not just my son's autism that I was going to have to get to grips with but also his mother's inability to accept it. At one point she tried to blame it on me, saying that "older men when they father children are more likely to father an autistic child", something to do with the sperm count. Which is utter hokum, by the way.

"It will be okay, dad," said the pediatrician, "you will be fine. You both obviously love your son very much and that is 3/4 of the battle." Her words brought me back to their company and I smiled. I did not think it prudent to share what I was really thinking. "Yes," I said, "it will be fine. He has a lot of good people ready and able to look after him." And he did.

He was to attend special school until he was 5. He also had good support at the nursery, and a team of people had him on their radar. Occupational therapist, speech and language therapist, pediatrician, and a child psychologist, all on hand at the special school (Dolphin House). The Council also arranged for a taxi with a carer to collect him on the days he was to go to Dolphin House. Now that it was official, if you like, it did make life a little easier because we could at least put a name to his behavior which helped in sticky situations when out and about. Also, I could do a little research, and a little research is all I recommend as it does not take long to learn that there is no real clear understanding of autism out there ...