Francesca is twenty-four. She was born deaf and nearly blind after her mother contracted rubella during pregnancy. She does not speak, but communicates with us through a very limited language of gestures: to say "mama," for instance, you cross your arms and mime cradling a baby. To say "drink," you pretend to empty a glass. Francesca's primary interest centers on gestures connected, in some way, to food and nourishment.
Fragile as Porcelain
Until age seven, Francesca was skeletal and extremely frail. Her fingers were so thin we feared breaking them. Feeding her—spoonful by spoonful—required endless effort; nothing seemed to overcome her deep aversion to food.
From Anorexia to the Opposite
At seven, the change came rapidly and unexpectedly. Some of her heart problems had apparently resolved on their own. Francesca quickly returned to normal weight. Now she has become a "force of nature," and her appetite knows no bounds.
Mealtimes with her, however, bear no resemblance to the traditional family dinner—that calm, convivial gathering where everyone forgets their worries and which often takes on the character of a celebration.
Francesca is always impatient to sit down and insists on choosing the menu. She goes to the refrigerator or the pantry shelves to find the dishes she prefers. If we refuse her choices to vary the meal, she may grow violently angry—breaking glass or threatening to do so. We must then reason with her very patiently, and sometimes we have to struggle to impose reasonable behavior.
Then Francesca seeks out the others, including guests. She sometimes closes—with authority—the book they are reading and takes their hand to bring them to the table; there is no stopping her.
Authority and Participation
At the table, Francesca watches everyone. As a child, she was self-centered and often took what belonged to others. Now that she is an adult, she understands that each person must have their share and must eat everything—which makes it very difficult to help her grasp that a guest might refuse something or follow a diet. And heaven help anyone who, in her view, eats too slowly.
If something displeases her, she tips it very quickly onto her mother's plate. That is progress: years ago, with the same speed, the plate would end up on the floor in a flash. But this does not last long, because the refused food is immediately put back in front of her.
At the end of each meal there is a whole series of rituals. Francesca knows who takes coffee, whether they want sugar or not, and she cannot bear any change in habit.
Guests Chosen with Care
When Francesca spends vacations or weekends with us, it is not easy to widen the family circle.
Like many other parents of children with autism, we have a tendency to "withdraw into ourselves." Yet Francesca must slowly learn to see her parents' friends and the friends of her siblings; this means that any invited guest must accept, on one hand, Francesca's clumsy gestures and her occasional outbursts, and on the other hand, our nervous tension, which we do not always manage to control.
Francesca is very sensitive to how others treat her and readily accepts those who show they consider her a person
Francesca is deeply sensitive to others' attitudes toward her and readily accepts anyone who, upon arriving, shows they consider her a person. Then she greets them and embraces them. To others, she quickly says goodbye and shakes their hand firmly. Slowly—and not without some setbacks—she learns to respect others; with the same intensity, she expects affection and friendship from them.
- Jacques La Brousse, 1989 - (o. et L. n. 85)