THE SUMMER OF MY SON Jason’s 16th year, we found ourselves driving west. We’d learned about a noninvasive brain treatment called transcranial magnetic stimulation that showed promise for children with autism. Our son’s disability was so severe that he had screaming fits and was often violent with himself and others. Experts recommended institutionalizing him; we decided instead to give TMS a try.
And so we drove across country, from our apartment in Manhattan to the Brain Treatment Center in Los Angeles. We spent almost a week in a car with someone who couldn’t communicate and was easily bored. Jason is a handsome boy who looks “normal” on the outside. But he had meltdowns during bathroom stops, and when my husband tried to calm him down, bystanders
