Martin and I are in a hotel outside Chicago. We flew here, only slightly delayed by an angry, lingering rain at LaGuardia. Tomorrow afternoon we begin two days of laser energetic detoxification (LED) treatments, which involve applying customized vibrations to help pathogens exit through Martin’s meridians—something like a souped-up, high-tech version of his cranio-sacral therapy. Adrian had to be elsewhere for business, so my mother has flown in from the Southwest for support. The LED procedure sounds more “out there” than Adrian and I are used to, so we’ve been researching on-line and discussing with each other. We’ve found relatively little evidence of potential side effects, so it’s a go. I will post later this week about what happens.

Adrian said, “We’re doing all this work to detox. How do we know he won’t, you know, ‘re-tox’?” I need to do make more inquiries so that I can answer his question.

Meanwhile, Martin is a little off, still. His language is strong, and his behavior is good, with no trouble transitioning and only mini-tantrums that fade fast. But his attention span is zero, his eye contact is sporadic, and he’s engaging in more self-stimming. Understandable, I suppose. We’ve just put a weighty week behind us, with the allergist, new HANDLE exercises, a visit to Martin’s homotoxicologist, a party marking the last day at his old school, and a housewarming for friends in Westchester. And then I hauled him onto an airplane to Chicago.

Martin’s getting better is a lot of work for me and Adrian. It’s easy to forget that it’s a lot of work for Martin, too.