It is morning. Robert has already brushed his teeth and put on his clothes. He also carried his pajama to the laundry hamper. Since the time, a few years ago, when he sweat a lot during the night, he got into a habit of insisting on washing his pajama after every night. He should be ready to eat his breakfast, but not yet. Before rushing to the kitchen, he slowly takes another pajama set from the drawer and very carefully spreads it on his bed. It is the ritual he included in his morning routine, just a few months ago.

It is a Friday afternoon. Robert has just returned from his program. He has taken off his shoes, unpacked his backpack and a lunch box, and showed me a short note written by employees of his program. But before doing anything else, he takes one bottle of Pure Leaf Unsweetened Tea, shows it to me and says, “Monday”. We still have two weekend days before Monday, but Robert wants to be prepared. Of course, the same situation repeats itself on Monday afternoon, except he says, “Tuesday”. And so on, so on.

No, I don’t know what event or what arrangements of Robert’s thoughts precipitated this behavior. It seems like early in the morning he is ready for the night. And every weekday afternoon he prepares for the next morning. Are these ritual his way of reducing the unpredictability of his day by planning ahead ?. Does he understand the fact that his diminished ability to speak might invite chaos or misunderstanding? I wish, I knew. There is so little knowledge about coping skills of such individuals like Robert. Even worse. there is vary little motivation in the communities of psychologists, psychiatrist, neurologists to learn about abilities of people with disabilities. Their efforts to replace the missing skills by developing novel ways to communicate and organize their time and space are mostly ignored or not even noticed by those who consider themselves intelligent and educated.