[Clodfobble]

I lost a friend this week. Not a good friend, but an old one, someone I've known since 7th grade.

We haven't kept in touch very well, and when we have gotten the chance to, it's been obvious (to me anyway) that we have less and less in common each time. She's been going to medical school, and is just now finishing up her fellowship as a child psychiatrist. I've worked several vastly different jobs, gotten married, had some stepkids, had some kids; and she's... been in medical school some more.

When she emailed me out of the blue the other day, I knew exactly how it was going to play out, but I couldn't stop myself. She's a child psychiatrist. Her whole career is (I was guessing, and I was right) completely devoted to believing the exact opposite about my children's condition than I do. She asks, "So what's been going on in your life?," and my only options are 1.) bald-faced lie, don't even mention my kids have been diagnosed and pretend I've been skipping along happily these last seven months; 2.) tell her what's been going on, but leave it at "they're showing a lot of improvement" and let her believe it's due to whatever she wants; or 3.) tell her.

Number 3 is the only ethical choice, as I see it. I feel an overpowering need to tell people what I know, what I see happening before me every day, because it is a freaking crime that people, especially medical professionals, don't know it. The debate of what causes autism aside, people must be told that there are treatments, that children can and do recover from this nightmare. And yet, I know that no one will let you put the causation debate aside, because there are only two sides--either autism is completely genetic, and there is no recovery; or it is caused, and there is recovery. Any acceptance of the possiblity of recovery by definition puts you in the camp with the crazies.

So the question became, "is this friendship worth it? Do I care enough about it to keep my mouth shut, or do I let it fall victim, knowing that every parent that stands up to her is one more drop in the eventual flood, and maybe as an old school friend my word might even count as two or three drops before she permanently writes me off?"

Well, the answer was no, this friendship was pretty insignificant as far as those things go, so I went with my conscience. I told her, in a very casual and optimistic way, what a truly miraculous change we've seen with biomedical treatments. And as I expected, she has not replied. (And no, there is no chance this is just a delayed response--when we catch up with each other, we always get at least 8-10 emails back and forth in the course of just a couple days, before drifting apart again for another year or two.)

But like I said, I'm not really upset about the loss of this friend. The real problem is that I'm not sure how far I'll go. My relatives and three close friends have been supportive, but I've studiously avoided the topic with everyone else I know (which to be fair, isn't that many people,) because I'm sensing a big self-destructive streak in all this, and I can't figure out what's ethical and what's me just slashing and burning my old life out of frustration with this new life I didn't ask for. I spend all my social interactions now desperately hoping that the topic doesn't come up, so I don't have to find out how many friendships I'd be willing to sacrifice. I'm pretty sure the answer is "any and all," because I just can't handle any negative people in my life right now. Seriously, who wants friends who feel compelled to basically call you a liar to your face?