When you have a non-verbal child, your relationship hinges on one very important thing. It can make the difference between misery and good company. Without it, many moments that could be happy and wonderful turn into moments of difficulty and despair.

That thing is trust. Without a doubt, it is the single biggest factor when it comes to interacting with my son. It transcends any communication issues or difference in perception due to his autism. It brings us together and turns many meltdown-possibilities all around.

His doctor’s visit this past week was the perfect example. Through the years, Lucas had always given me issues at appointments like these. Annoyingly enough, it was always the little things that did us in.

Meds? He’ll gobble them up like candy. Shots? Line ’em up. He’s good. Even blood pressure was met with indifference. Lucas would swipe away on his iPad and go with the flow.

Then, they’d try to look in his ears and he’d lose his mind. The nose was even worse and then the mouth – forget it. He’d be screaming bloody murder like we were trying to shove him into a van. It would come out of nowhere.

Perhaps you’re thinking that it might be a sensory issue. Lucas, however, never really had sensory issues. He’s famous for ignoring fireworks and sleeping on roller coasters. If you need further proof that it was more about confusion and less about poking and prodding, you just need to hear about the most difficult request at these doctor visits. I saved that one for last.

Getting on the scale.

Wait…you mean the thing that is literally standing still on a tiny platform? Yup. That thing. He’d freak out like a teeny bopper at a Beatles concert.

I always knew it was a trust thing. After all, how could he know what was happening? We bring him to this random office with pictures of cartoons on the wall and then have him do all sorts of UFO-abduction tests. Long sticks down your throat, flashlights up your nose, wobbly platforms to stand on while a stranger maneuvers a lever – it takes a leap of faith to do all these things.

Just like his first school bus ride, I couldn’t sit him down to explain these things. I couldn’t bribe him with ice cream or promise a toy. My boy doesn’t care about any of that stuff. All he knows is that I’m forcing him to do things without being able to adequately explain why.

Night and day are terms that are typically used for my boy’s behavior. Place him in a situation where he is confused and you’re likely to deal with a strong negative reaction. Give him time to get used to a place or person and you’ll see a complete change. Whether it’s a new school, teacher, or activity, Lucas needs to ease on down that road.

This doctor visit was a whole new world for him. Not only did my boy go along with everything the doctor asked, but he even did things that I would have bet money he would have lost it over. When she asked him to get on the table, he hopped right up. When she had him lay down so she could poke his belly, he did that too. By the end, I was like, “Who is this kid?”

He’s the kid who trusts me. He knows that I’m not sizing him up to make hamburgers or sell him to a sweatshop overseas. I’m his dad and I have his back. He sees that and, even with the limited exposure to the doc, he recognizes that Dad keeps him safe.

Patience has been a big part of this. I sometimes hesitate to admit that because it comes off like he’s difficult, so I need to take deep breaths to make it through those tough times. That’s not how I mean it though.

When I say it takes patience, I mean that those moments when he has trepidation about something we are going to, I don’t dismiss him. It would be easy to. After all, I know that it’s going to be fine. Meeting Santa isn’t anything to be afraid of. Pumpkin patches aren’t evil. Bowling alleys can be fun. He’ll probably like it. Seeing your kid cry about an event that won’t be that bad can make even the most understanding parents say, “Quit your bellyaching and get in the pool.”

The trick is to empathize in those early times. No matter how rough it was, I always tried to defer to Lucas and acknowledge the validity of his agitation. I calmed him during his roughest moments and assured him that everything would be OK.

Then, he saw that it was. Everything was OK. When Dad says it is going to be alright, it would be. It always would be.

Long term, it’s helped us cut down on tantrums, meltdowns, and aggressive reactions to random appointments. Has it made them all perfect? No. He’s a person and no person is always one thing or never another. Just because my son has autism doesn’t mean that he never has rough days once you “unlock” some secret. They still come up.

And when they do, I show him patience. It makes life easier for me and less frightening for him. I’m his father. That’s my job. During some of those calm-down moments of patience, I might feel like I’m doing things all wrong. But it’s positive times that occur as a result of them that tell me I’m doing it right.