Kat Biggie Press Publisher
A New Course
Shortly after Teresa gave birth to her second son, Nick, he was diagnosed with Down syndrome. Early infant and child intervention helped Nick reach developmental milestones in his own time. But there was more to come when Nick hit third grade. A wave of fire alarm-pulling along with other serious and dangerous behaviors signaled that this was something more than just Down syndrome. At last, a book that takes a deep dive into the complexities that families face raising a child with a dual diagnosis of Down syndrome and autism (DS-ASD) and other intellectual and developmental disabilities. A New Course is a hybrid of a memoir combined with valuable lessons following each chapter and in the appendix. It's a must read for families, school faculty, therapists, physicians, and support groups wanting to understand a parent's perspective and looking for answers about: Early intervention, Individual education plans (IEPs) and transition meetings, Speech, physical, and occupational therapies, Behavior support and applied behavior analysis (ABA), Toilet training and puberty issues, Wandering and elopement, Meltdowns, and Augmentative and alternative communication. Author Teresa Unnerstall provides guidance and hope steeped in more than 25 years of experience. She is a parent turned educational speaker, writer, advocate, and consultant. Her determination to find resources, support, and specialists helped her son to reach his full potential.
Kat Biggie Press publishes books written by women that provide inspiration and hope, encouragement and light into the world. Two imprints include Purple Butterfly Press and Chrysalis Press. www.katbiggiepress.com to learn more.
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Meltdown inducing Winter of 2006 in Chicago
My son Nick has a dual diagnosis of Down syndrome and autism and was in the throes of puberty. We were stuck inside a lot and he would get very frustrated. Nick could only express his feelings through his actions as his speech deficits kept him from telling us how he was feeling. He couldn't settle down and we didn't know how to help him. For the first time, I was afraid of my own son. I didn't understand the brain wiring and how to support him. As we stay at home during this Coronavirus Pandemic, I am seeing flashes of these behaviors resurface and some days we are taking it hour by hour. Objects are going airborne again, he yells and hits himself; the concept of shelter in place is lost on him. He packs his lunch every day and puts it in his backpack at the door. Nick just wants to go out as we all do. His actions both in 2006 and now are expressions of frustration and fear. I've learned to recognize the triggers and signs of distress, so I can cut it off at the pass before things escalate to a meltdown. It's still very challenging, but now I have much more patience and empathy. This helps me to cope and navigate the difficult days.
Heightened puberty mixed with cabin fever induced by the jaws of a frigid winter weekend was a lethal mix. We found ourselves way over our heads, drowning in a tidal wave of meltdowns day after day, often twice in one day. I don't recall the exact triggers for the dozens of outbursts Nick had. What is etched in my mind is that we were not going to win this battle.
Nick became a one-man wrecking crew, grabbing anything in his path; everything from candle holders, remotes, figurines, dishes, and chairs were thrown hard in his rage. During one meltdown, he clawed and gouged my cheek, drawing blood and rendering bruises. And just when we felt safe in the eye of the storm, he would come back with more vengeance; the back side of the hurricane was a potent force.
By the end of one very long weekend, Al and I had taken several hits each, and Hank got caught in the shrapnel during the crossfire. Our bloodied, stinging hands had taken the brunt of the assault. Our hands looked as though someone had forced them through a paper shredder. It was as if something was crawling inside his skin that was beyond unsettling for him. It was the fullest expression of frustration and rage at once. In the aftermath, Nick would cry and be remorseful, unable to tell us why, or what he wanted or needed. We were desperate for answers. I was shaking with exhaustion, my nerves were shot, and the fear of another episode seemed imminent. Al poured a couple of glasses of wine, and Hank joined us with a Mountain Dew. We managed to find some humor as we licked our wounds.