When I was young, I practically grew up with the boy next door. We had the best and craziest of times. Somewhere around the age of 10 he got diagnosed with autism and he went to special school. A year later I went to the International School and soon we were both too busy and we started drifting apart. This didn’t happen in a very sad way, it just happened as these things do. I did wonder for a while how he was doing, as we still always waved at each other and sent each other birthday cards, but didn’t have much more than short conversations, which didn’t really explain a lot other than that he was happy (which is good of course).
Today I went to the supermarket to get some ingredients so I could finish the small cake I was making for my physical therapist. On my way there I crossed paths with the mother of that neighbour boy. She was on her way to the supermarket too. I asked her about her son’s driving lessons and soon we got into a big conversation. I usually don’t start a long conversation when I have something to do like that, but since she’s not exactly a stranger, it was easy. We caught up with each other on what things her son did after we lost contact and I told her all about me.
It was great catching up again. It turned out that not only did he have autism, he has Asperger’s Syndrome just like me! She didn’t know about my diagnosis yet, so she was surprised, but she did agree it explained a lot about our past. I also told her about my Chronic Fatigue.
It’s weird how something like that can take all my attention. It has been something from years ago, but I still care a lot. I promised her I would take a flyer from the weekly autism meeting and drop it in her mailbox, in case her son would be interested. Who knows?
This conversation took an hour, leaving me, after getting home again, with less than half an hour to finish my cake. Luckily it’s just a small cake and I made it a simple one. I rushed and got it finished just in time! Exactly on the minute! I quickly changed into more comfortable clothes for physical therapy, then my mother (who drove me) and I went on our way.
I’m glad to be able to say that my physical therapist was very happy with the cake. She was so honestly surprised, that she gave me 2 kisses on my cheek. (people don’t get inspired by this please, I don’t like kisses on my cheek… Only it was special, since she never did this in the two years I know her, so I didn’t protest)
When physical therapy was done, she told me she would save the cake ‘till she had her break. There was just one more patient and then she’d have her break. We started making new appointments and she couldn’t control herself anymore and she dipped her finger in the whipped cream and stuck it in her mouth. The idea was that she would just have one bit, so she could hold out until her break. Only she loved the flavour of my whipped cream and said now she only wanted more! I’m not trying to brag her, I’m just saying that she couldn’t have fabricated that look on her face. I love it when something I baked turned out right and people are honestly enjoying it. It makes me very proud. By the way, if you’re ever to receive something baked by me: don’t lie to me please. If it isn’t any good, then I want to know. But also tell me what you don’t like about it. Bad feedback is also something I learn a lot from and it just helps me to get better!
Since today I still don’t have a lot of energy because of the Efteling, my physical therapist went easy on me (and the cake might have had something to do with that too…). So I didn’t have a too harsh exercise, which I liked. Now I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow, since tomorrow (well okay, today for people who look way too closely at the time. Yes, it’s passed 12 am…) I’ll be visiting my best friend together with my sister. It’s mainly for fun, since the three of us needed that very much, but it’s also to work on his event. Which is actually also fun. I can’t wait! Now off to bed.