My son was speaking very early, and well, and when I told doctors in Wenatchee and social services, about my concerns THEN, they ignored me. I repeatedly tried to tell them something was wrong and they refused to listen, and said kids don't talk until 2 years old anyway. I told the difference was that he HAD been speaking, and then he quit. That's not normal. It's normal to be slower to speak and only start up when you're 2 years old, but my son was speaking well in advance and then just quit and I knew something was wrong.
I tried to get attention drawn to this and no one wanted to take it seriously. Which was another reason I started going to Seattle.
My son had been speaking so much, and so early, I was bragging about this, and his other development, by email, to my parents, and to Christa. By that time, I knew about Christa. It was after the wedding shower for Stephanie and the only things I would write to Christa after that, were summaries of how wonderful and impressive my son was, how gifted and about his advanced development. I wouldn't discuss anything else. I just sent emails about him when he did something new, and partly it was to annoy and piss her off. They had tried to take everything from me, but I had my son, and not only was he worthy of love and wonderful without being so brainy, I laid it on, about how talented and gifted he was, and how I was going to teach him everything he needed to know to be an activist like me if he wanted to be, and how he would defend me one day, against everything those in the Catholic church with their vendetta, had done to me. I said he was free to be a peacemaking type, too, if that was his personality, but I just went on about how he was going to do great things and would have a solid foundation of character to be strong enough to stand up to "the big dogs". I didn't use those words, "big dogs", but that's essentially what I was rubbing in.
I told her how I was looking into talented and gifted schools already, because I had a couple of doctors tell me he should be assessed at a young age and entered into some sort of guided academics so he didn't get bored and fall short of his potential.
Whatever information Christa received that she passed onto others, was passed on. This information was passed on as well. It was at this time that she asked where in the house our bedrooms were and which window we slept by, and she wanted to know the whole layout of the house. I stupidly told her most of it, except I let her believe we were next to another window that was my neighbors instead. Actually, I was vague, and let her assume on that, and then later, my roommates window was smashed. I was there when the glass broke, just outside, and I didn't know if it had fallen on its own, or been hit by something. Another witness said it was from a rock or something but I didn't know where it had come from and the police assumed it was a natural thing that happened. Like the glass got old. I also told her I was going to save a bunch of stuff onto DVDs and CDs and then my player wouldn't work again. So I wasn't able to, and I had just bought a new one and installed it myself, and it had worked fine.
And shortly after I told her two different things, that I had contacted Protestant groups who knew something about Irish terrorism (for validation about the car vandalism, and just validation that these things really happen, and if they happen in another part of the country, they can happen in the U.S.), and after I told her all about my son and how I was going to raise him, it was only a week later that he quit speaking altogether.
There were only a few things, or changes, to my and my son's environment at that time, so it eliminates quite a lot of possibilities.
1. We had not moved to the orchard yet. We still lived in Wenatchee where I was constantly surveilled and harassed with car vandalism.
2. When my son and I began throwing up, at the house, it was a sudden, violent throwing up. I hadn't felt sick at all prior. It just hit and then my son was throwing up as well. It was worse than flu, because there was something very wrong with the cramping in the stomach. It was far more severe, pain-wise, than any throwing up I'd done in the past, and because of this, the severe stomach pain, I assumed it was food poisoning, or had to be something extraordinary to regular flu.
3. My son was removed from me in the hospital, and seen by Dr. Malcolm Butler, whom I had specifically told the hospital and everyone knew, I didn't want my son near. I was lied to about which doctor saw him. A female doctor who saw me said she was going to see him, after she left and a nurse came into my room. I was too ill to even hold my son.
4. After this, I noticed my son's speech was pretty much gone. He just quit talking. It was right away, but I let a week go by before I decided it was odd and not normal. I thought at first he didn't feel like talking as much. Then, he would try to talk to me, but it would just come out gibberish. He was still chatty, but more frustrated, and seemed to want to say things he couldn't say.
5. There was no change whatsoever, to my attitude towards him or anyone else, for that matter. The other thing that happened, right after I took my son to the hospital and he was seen by Butler, was that was when the hospital made a complaint about me, that I had taken a popsicle out of my son's mouth. So this was when the Judge's wife, who worked for CPS in Wenatchee, came out with a Chelan Health nurse, to see me. It was a day or two later.
There was nothing wrong with me or different about ME. There is a senior librarian in Wenatchee, whose name is Linda, and she knew there was nothing wrong. I took my son to see her all the time. I took my son out in public, to the library, to his preschool lessons (mommy and me) and to swimming lessons and the park. Nothing changed with me.
I told Christa how my son had quit talking, and thought it was odd that for once she sounded concerned. She had told me once, when I was having severe back pain, to call her later about it and when I did, she said, "Is it gone now?" and I said yes it was, which I thought was strange she would seem to know it was. She said, "believe me, it's not cancer," and laughed. Around this time is when someone else asked me if I was having hot flashes. I believe it was Christa, when the pain started again. I thought this was bizarre. Why would she ask me if I was having hot flashes?
6. It was after my son and I vomited so violently, and after all these things, that we began twitching at night. It was only at night, which I thought was odd, and it wasn't normal muscle spasms before falling asleep or restless leg syndrome. It was very bizarre and my heart was all over the place, doing weird palpitations and skipping. I wasn't having panic attacks, because I knew how to identify those. And I didn't feel any different than usual. I was very happy with my son and his activities and what we were doing. I looked at my son and felt him, because he slept next to me, and his muscles were twitching under the skin as well, and his breathing seemed somewhat disrupted. Whenever we left the house, it quit, and in the daytime, it never happened either. And I should clarify, again, it wasn't twitching where it would have been visible from a short distance. It was tiny little twitches under the skin, but all night practically. At first I thought we had a potassium deficiency so we ate more bananas, but it wasn't that. Our diet was excellent besides, and nothing changed. I couldn't figure it out. If it had been just me, I would have thought maybe it was nerves, but I felt my son and watched carefully to see if it also happened to him, and it did.
If I was "losing" it, and I wasn't, I wouldn't just have a "breakdown" at night and feel completely normal during the day and at night when we were away from the house. I didn't think or imagine there was anything wrong with the house at that time either, because I had no idea what was causing it. I wondered if we had been exposed to pesticides because Ricardo worked in an orchard. It still didn't explain why it was only at night, but I had no fear of that house, or any ideas whatsoever could be causing it. I didn't notice major computer problems either except that the CD/DVD player wasn't working again, and it was brand new.
My son didn't just become silent. He was trying to talk, but he couldn't formulate the words anymore. And this had absolutely nothing to do with me. I took him to the doctors, and they ignored me. No one claimed I was "neglecting" him, they just claimed there was nothing wrong, and I said, yes there is, because this is not NORMAL FOR HIM.
Also, at this time, not once did we, or, I speak for myself here, experience the dizziness and diarhhea and everything that came after what I later called "a hit". That was totally different, but happened too, and happened while the other stuff was going on.
I will try to find some emails of the things my son was doing and at what age, in a minute and post them here.
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