Seeing Kalel

Yesterday, me and the missis went to see Marifa's Consultant, Myles Windowledge. Present: one extremely clever Professor Kalel; a more junior colleague allocated the job of writing out prescriptions; and Myles. Also in the room and contributing, a Learning Disability Nurse (I think), who listened to our pre-consultation moaning with genuine patience and professionalism, although I did wonder whether she might be in need of someone to talk to herself — a long day, perhaps? Our own mood wasn’t helped by a phone call from drippy Eva Polite (Trotters social worker) 5 minutes before, but I’ve had enough of their mutton-headed bullshit for the mo.

Thank God, it’s hard to feel grumpy around Marifa's Consultant. I admire him immensely – and I’m not one who automatically falls in reverence before members of the medical profession as a rule. If you”ve been to Uni and met medical students, you never see doctors in quite the same light ever again. Plus, I don’t do social hierarchies. Anyway, Myles is smart, exceptionally well-informed about autism, sympathetic, and posseses that ineffable talent of challenging bullshit (especially mine) in a way which is always firm, friendly and good humoured. In trying to sort out how to get Marifa to the clinic with the minimum of hastle, it was he who eventually solved the puzzle.

The major outcome is that we agreed to gradually increase the dosage of Marifa's medication, with a view to extending his duration of sleep from the current 6-7 hours to 8-9. Not only will this be good for le boy, but it will also have the added benefit of giving me and his ma more time in bed — and as the clever Prof said, “It’s in Marifa's interest that you be fit and well.”