When you have a non-verbal child, you get some bizarre calls from the school nurse. When she would call about his older sister, I was usually told that she was “complaining” about something.

Lucas? He complains about nothing. All of my calls are the end result of detective work.

Hi, Mr. Guttman. It’s the school nurse. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. Lucas is here and his teachers say he’s not acting like himself.

How?

He just seems a little off today.

My mind would always urge me to be a wisenheimer and say something like, “Oh, is he not making polite conversation? Could it be that the Dow Jones is down? He’s also still upset about the Spice Girls splitting up.” There are a million of them. For the sake of positive relationships with the people who care for my boy, I usually keep my clever word play to myself.

The truth is that I have no answer for the diagnostic inquiries of this local Dr. House. I’m not sure what, if any, response I can give.

Lucas doesn’t act sick. That’s one of the truly unique things about him. While most people will hem and haw all day over the most basic of ailments, my little guy doesn’t. Even the major things cause him no outward signs of distress. He’s just fine…until he isn’t.

Acting sick and being sick are two different things. With my son, he’s happy and hopping around without a care in the world. Then, without warning, he throws up.

When I say there’s no warning, I’m not joking. Sneezes, coughs, and surprise vomit are all part of his repertoire. I have been in the line of fire many times and it’s nearly impossible to figure out what caused it.

One day, he threw up right after I doused his neck in baby powder after a haircut. Having been fine immediately before and immediately after, I assumed that the white dust had caused him to gag. What else could it be?

Sick. That’s what it could be. That night, he threw up everywhere. There was a bug going around. Two days later, I got it and I thought I was going to die. This kid amazes me.

You would never have known he had anything up until the moment he came crashing down. Lucas is one of the most upbeat people I’ve ever known. If he has his iPad or TV show playing, he’s happy. Sick? Tired? None of it matters. He deals with ailments and moods as they come.

I’ve seen it mostly with exhaustion. With his device in hand, Lucas will be bouncing off the walls all day. Excitedly screeching and clapping, he will be so full of energy that it kind of blows my mind. After all, he’s been up since 4 in the morning and still jumping around like he’s at Mardi Gras when it’s 10 o’clock that night. He’s the Energizer Bunny.

Until you take the iPad away.

Within literal seconds, he’s out cold. It’s almost as if tired doesn’t phase him until he’s no longer doing something he loves. Once that screen shuts down, he does too. If that battery lasted forever though, he’d never fall asleep.

The same thing can be said for sickness. My guy doesn’t feel the agony and, if he does, he doesn’t sell it. Lucas is the epitome of “focus on the good, don’t sweat the small stuff.”

While the exhaustion game might be the most prevalent example of this, it’s his handling of stomach bugs and sinus issues that are the most impressive. I genuinely don’t know how he does it.

People will often say that “autism is a super power” and I tend to roll my eyes at that a bit. After all, my boy’s personality, while beautiful and pure, is his personality. To say it’s a superpower can feel a bit disingenuous. He’s not a superhero. He’s a person. He’s my person.

That said, this one feels like the closest to a superpower, if there was one. To feel awful – sometimes with a full blown fever – and still be happily bouncing around until the moment you puke is pretty impressive. To throw up and then immediately go back to the bouncing is almost unbelievable. It takes a lot for a person to do something so astounding that their parent, with the remnants of vomit on their shoulder, can still stare in astonishment.

I’m not even angry. I’m impressed.

Of course, the drawback to all of this is that there have been days where we find out that he’s sick, long before we knew to Lysol the house. There’s nothing worse that learning you’ve been hugging and squeezing a little round germ machine with no knowledge of it until the day the nurse calls to say that “he’s not acting himself.” Buckle up, everyone. It’s going to be a fun week.

I’ve known plenty of people who will complain about the most basic health issues until you want to jump out the window. Lucas? Not a word, not an action. He just keeps moving forward and enjoys his life. The world could stand to be a bit more like him.