If I had a billion dollars...

Last week my oldest son was diagnosed with autism. Two days afterward I heard a commercial advertising a March Madness bracket contest to win a billion dollars. I had a moment of clarity about how much my life had changed in 48 hours as I began to daydream about what I would do with that kind of money.

1. I'd make sure my son received the recommended number of hours of ABA therapy, which is 30 per week. Seems like a lot, huh? It is; and we will likely be "approved" to receive less than half of that. But if I had (almost) unlimited resources…game on!

2. I would hand pick all of my son's therapists and never ever use state services. And before you get all up in arms about my anarchist viewpoint, let me explain: resources are limited, and even those who work in the field admit the bureaucracy is tedious at best. I want to be in control of my son's care. I want it to be tailor made for him; and I don't want to be limited by resources or availability, or have to justify why he needs something. I could have all of those things...if I won a billion dollars.

3. I'd hire a holistic pediatrician for both of my children, insurance provisions and costs be damned. In fact, I might retain two...or maybe even more, and hold monthly committee meetings on my sons' health. Why not?

4. I'd employ a personal chef to cook healthy meals that meet my son's taste, color, and texture requirements, and provide him the nutrition he needs for healing. (Right now he will only consume 2 different textures of food and 3 different colors. This limits his menu to about 5 items out of all the food available in all the world.)

5. I'd compile a list of the places in the world which offered the most promise for autism research and treatment, find the one best suited to our particular needs, and move there.

6. I would design a college internship program around researching the prevention of autism in my younger son, offering course credit to a research team of 4-5 individuals. I guess I'd offer a small stipend too, but even a billion dollars only goes so far! And college is all about the experience anyway, remember (or not)?

Once we were out of the woods for my family, I'd continue the program on a much broader scale. (See number 7.)

7. In addition to my personal research team, I'd privately--with private dollars--fund a private foundation devoted to autism research; and we'd only accept private donations from private individuals. My billion dollars, my rules.

8. Finally, I would sit back, relax, and really enjoy both of my children. I would stop worrying about the things that could be done, or haven't been done, or need to be done.

I would no longer lie awake at night pondering my oldest child's uncertain future (Will he need full time care? Will he be self sufficient? Will he be happy and fulfilled?); or obsessing over preventing the same diagnosis in my younger son, because I would know I could provide for them both. And I would celebrate the developmental peaks and brush off the valleys, knowing that everything really would be just fine.