I admit that I still sit in the bathroom when Benjamin showers. It is to keep him on task and nudge him to rinse thoroughly. Today he flushed the toilet right before stepping in. When that happens the cold water is sidetracked to fill the tank and only hot water feeds to the shower. I suggested Ben step back until it cooled off but he didn't. I figured he would know if it hurt, and let him alone. But when he climbed out to dry off I saw his back. It looked like he had spent a day at the beach with no shirt. Red from his nape to the bottom of his spine. 

I cringed. Autism does seem to include a disconnect with body messages. We have pictures of Ben dressed in a flannel shirt, rubber boots, wool hat and gloves in August vacuuming the lawn. When I drove him to school in winter, to a school half an hour away, he would often pull off his coat and mittens in the back seat. I was shivering next to the heater on full blast, and there was no way he was warm enough in the back. Another time Ben had an infected cut on his foot and never mentioned it to me. 

Even though his skin was pink from the hot water, he did not seem to register pain. How do you protect someone who does not know it hurts? Or why? 

Occasionally the people we love do not understand that they are in pain. A woman whose husband recently lost his job barked at her, yet said he was fine. Another friend told the man she had been dating for a year that she was moving away to follow her job. She asked how he felt about that. 

"Don't you think the meal was delicious?" he answered. Or rather didn't answer. 

Another man whose father had died when he was very young became edgy and agitated as he approached the exact age his father was when he passed away. His wife was wise, and understood his anxiety in a way that he was not conscious of. 

Many of us respond clumsily, or cockily. We criticize brashly, or brush people off, when what we are truly feeling is simply hurt.