Friday, November 29, 2019

WYR: Using Augmentative and Alternative Communication

http://www.thinkingautismguide.com/2019/10/ok-so-we-have-aac-now-what.html

One of the things I've always wanted to see was an overview of Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC).  Those of us that don't speak or don't speak well enough to count as "normal" may rely on systems like the app Speak For Yourself, card systems, sign language, etc.  This article is not that, but it's a good primer in learning, using, and teaching those technologies.

I feel these technologies, and articles like this one, are extremely important.  Autistic people aren't the only ones who can find themselves unable to communicate verbally.  Various developmental disabilities, speech impediments, and other conditions can make these technologies appropriate and useful.

Personally, I developed speech at about the normal time, and have been able to take my verbal skills mostly for granted as I grew up.  But I found out in college that I have limits to how many words I can process.  After a certain amount of talking, my brain starts to resent having to process speech.  I have to go someplace quiet, stop using speech myself, and rest.  This led to at least one kind of hurtful interaction with a college friend, where I had to bundle her rather unceremoniously out of my apartment so I could recover.  I'm not sure she understood, and I had no idea how to explain it to her.

I have yet to learn sign language or some other form of AAC, but if anyone has recommendations, I'm open to learning.  Ideally I'd like to try one that works on an Android tablet.  It's hard to advocate for nonspeaking people when you have such a different experience than they do, and I'd like to do better.

Regardless, I'm excited to see more focus on AAC and getting nonspeaking or low verbal people the ability to communicate their thoughts.  It's a better world with all of us in it, able to share our thoughts and viewpoints.  

Monday, November 25, 2019

Reading the Research: Saving the Suicidal

Welcome back to Reading the Research, where I trawl the Internet to find noteworthy research on autism and related subjects, then discuss it in brief with bits from my own life, research, and observations.

Today's article is a step forward to save peoples' lives.  Autistic people often suffer from depression, or suffer horrible barrages of side effects that make traditional anti-depressants painful and frustrating, to say the least.  Ketamine has been shown to quickly treat depression, especially types otherwise unaffected by anti-depressants.  This has been particularly notable in emergency rooms, where people sometimes arrive because they would otherwise immediately seek their own deaths.  Having a fast-acting treatment available is exceedingly helpful, but most ERs and other treatment centers have been slow to use this treatment.  

This hesitance is because there hasn't been much research into the treatment.  Very few studies have looked into the effects of small doses on depression in the really rigorous manner required to make sound scientific decisions.  A study like this, looking into what would essentially be the ER's go-to treatment for a suicidal patient, is thus invaluable.  

I was particularly cheered to see the complete lack of addiction noted.  Ketamine has been compared to addictive drugs in the past by less informed groups and individuals, so it's good to see that this study noted no such effects.  

Perhaps more importantly, though, the FDA has apparently approved a nasal spray variant for the treatment of depression.  For anyone that doesn't already know: "treatment-resistant depression" is not in fact treatment-resistant.  It's merely not fixable with the standard barrage of anti-depressant pharmaceuticals.  Things like proper nutrition, exercise, time outdoors, and mindfulness can be combined to "treat" depression, but the typical treatment plan in US Healthcare is "here's some pills."  Anything that doesn't respond to pills is declared "treatment-resistant."  I have Opinions about this, suffice it to say.  

In any case, I'm going to continue to keep an eye on ketamine and its progress.  Too many autistic lives are lost to suicide.  While the systems that drive us to suicide must also change, we need our adults to survive and make the case for those systems to change.  We can't rely on parents and professionals to do it for us.  And having a fast-acting treatment for depression helps everyone, not just autistic people.  

(Pst! If you like seeing the latest autism-relevant research, visit my Twitter, which has links and brief comments on studies that were interesting, but didn't get a whole Reading the Research article about them.)

Friday, November 22, 2019

Autism Panel for Med Students: a summary

About a month ago, I had the privilege of speaking to a group of medical students, most of them on track to become the doctors of tomorrow.  I was asked to make a speech to introduce the subject and lead into the panel discussion of autism and medicine.  Below is the speech, a link to the handout, and my answers to the questions the panel members were given.  I'll also include a summary of what other panel members said.

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Good evening, and thank you for coming.

Before we begin, a note.  We, the autistic people before you, represent a small portion of the autism spectrum.  We're the ones who are verbal enough and organized enough to sit before you in a strange place, prepared to talk about ourselves in coherent detail.  Not everyone you run into in your careers will be able to do this.

In fact, depending on how much stress we're under, WE OURSELVES may not always be able to do this.  So the first thing I want you to know is that there are many forms of communication, and what we'll do here is only the most mainstream form: verbal speech, supplemented by body language.

This form of communication is what most of society runs on, and our proficiency in it is why we were chosen to be here.  There are other kinds of valid communication, including behavior, sign language, texting, the Picture Exchange System, and text-to-speech apps.  I would strongly encourage you to acquire a passing familiarity with these forms of communication, at least enough to recognize them so you know what to Google.  (smile)  Quite frankly, I expect these forms of communication to become more mainstream as our understanding of autism and nonspeaking humans advances.

So, what is autism?  I've read a lot of books on the subject, and most of them start out with giving the DSM's definition.  That's the American Psychological Association's diagnostic manual.  And y'know, I could do that, but quite frankly, when I got my diagnosis about a decade ago, those criteria were useless.  So I'm going to skip them.  I have a bachelor's degree in psychology, and I'm going to tell you that diagnostic criteria for brain differences and mental disorders are far more theory than practicality.

You can rely on the diagnostic criteria for physical diseases like hives or measles because they're well understood.  You can't, or at least shouldn't rely on the criteria for neurological differences and disorders, because quite frankly the APA is grasping at straws.  They're trying their best, but apparently the human mind and the human brain are one of the most complicated subjects we as a species have ever tried to study.

Our current best understanding of autism relies on brain scans.  When put under an fMRI, there are functional differences between an autistic brain and a normally developing one.  Some parts of an autistic brain may be over- or under-developed by comparison to the "typical human brain."  The connections between those parts may be stronger or weaker than average.  You can get a wide variety of traits as a result of these differences in our mental machinery.  The most common ones are socially-oriented: things like difficulty reading body language, difficulty reading facial expressions, and difficulty reading tones of voice.

The difficulty goes both ways: sometimes you find flat or singsong tones of voice in autistic people, or a very flat facial expression that doesn't convey much emotion, or very rigid and uncommunicative posture.  You can also get things like gastro-intestinal disorders, diet sensitivities, sleep disorders, anxiety disorders, sensory sensitivities, executive function difficulties, and depression.

There are tradeoffs, though.  An autistic person who loves their hobby is one of the most devoted and knowledgeable people you could hope to talk to about that hobby.  As a spouse or a friend, an autistic person tends to be extremely loyal.  We tend to have strong senses of justice.  We also tend towards literal-mindedness, directness and honesty, rather than playing mind games and carefully selecting socially appropriate white lies.  Physical appearances, things like what brands you wear, how perfect your makeup is, and how coordinated your clothes are... these things mean less to us than WHO you are, and what things you like.

Finally, autistic people bring fundamentally different points of view to any discussion.  We are, in essence, different.  That can provoke misunderstandings and slow things down, but it can also be helpful.

For example, when my spouse and I finally gathered enough money to be able to house-hunt, we were told to pick some important things we wanted in a house, tell them to the realtor, and then look around until we found a house we loved.  My spouse may have been happy to do that, but I preferred to consider, in exhaustive detail, every aspect of the house I wanted to live in.

Things like 3 prong electrical outlets, the presence of a bathtub, number of bathrooms, number of shared walls, the tax rate, how the tap water tasted, the age of the roof, the amount of nature around the house, and the average time to Meijer, my parents' retirement home, and his workplace.  All of these things were excruciatingly given priorities and point values and put into a spreadsheet, which we filled out for every home we looked at.  Each home received a score at the end, which we used to help determine whether we wanted to put an offer on the home or not.

This was far more work and annoyance than most people would bother with, but I considered it worth the time so that we could find a home we would be happy in for decades.  Was all this work atypical?  Definitely.  Was it worthwhile?  Definitely, at least in my opinion.  My autism, weirdness and all, helped me find a place I genuinely enjoy living in, and my family is better off because of it.

Which brings me to my last point.  In recent years, autistic people have developed communities and schools of thought about ourselves, our difficulties, and our successes.  One of the major philosophies to come out of this coordination is neurodiversity.

Essentially, neurodiversity is the idea that the human race is better with neurological diversity.  That autism is not a disease to be cured, but a difference that should be supported and respected.  That isn't to say that autistic people don't need help, or that being autistic doesn't come with hardships.  It's merely to say that without us, you are all made less.  The human race needs people with different points of view, because it takes new and weird ideas to come up with the new and weird inventions that keep humanity moving forward.

Temple Grandin redesigned cattle facilities and slaughterhouses to be more efficient and humane.  John Elder Robison created astonishing new sounds and flaming guitars for the band KISS.  Bill Gates and Steve Jobs transformed the world as we know it with personal computers and iPhones.

Each autistic person is different.  Personally, I can't design a slaughterhouse or an iPhone, but I can stand here before you, the medical professionals of tomorrow, and attempt to bridge our worlds.  I firmly believe the world is better with all of us: neurotypical and neurodiverse together.

Thank you.

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Link to the handout

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Panel Questions


1.  What are you doing now or have you done recently that is a success for you - either because if or in spite of your ASD?

I went to Reston, VA, near the capitol in DC to help direct the Autism Research Program's use of US tax dollars.  They contract consumers (ie: people affected by the issue at hand) as well as scientific reviewers of various types.  Each application is reviewed through a set of processes, and eventually a final score is assigned.

From those scores, the most scientifically rigorous and most useful-to-the-community studies are chosen to be funded.  It was an exhausting opportunity, but a worthwhile one.

Most other panel members spoke about their jobs, or personal successes.

2.  Tell us about your support system.  If you want to, you can include your age of diagnosis.

My support system is complicated.

I try to eat dairy-free, because I've noted dairy products tend to send my mood into a downward spiral.  I don't know why this is, but it's a clear enough effect that I noticed.  I also have my supplements, which at this point is up to 8 pills in the morning, and 4 at night.  These include multivitamins as well as specific minerals and vitamins I tend to be deficient in.

In addition to these, I try to exercise 2-3 days a week.  I see a therapist once every two weeks, where she administers a form of neurofeedback called LENS as well as more traditional talk therapy and managing my supplements.

Other panel members spoke extensively about their families, mostly, some also about their friends.  They mentioned relying on these people to "get them," and advocate for them when they can't do so for themselves.

3.  What would you like people to know about autism?  What do you think are some common misconceptions?

Mostly, that we grow up.  The general perception of autism is that of a white male child of perhaps 6 years of age, obnoxiously trapped behind a warped pane of glass.  In fact, the average age of an autistic person is 19, and many of us are people of color, born female, and gender minorities.

Those of us that can blend into the general population often choose to do so, because of the stigma and infantilization of autistic people.  High support needs are equated with being a child or being stupid, and they shouldn't be.  But that can drive those of us who are verbal to feel isolated, and unwilling to identify publicly as autistic.

Other common misperceptions included the specific symptoms and presentation of autism.  Women in particular tend to not have the same kinds of symptoms as men, so sometimes an autistic person, or even a small child, is dismissed out of hand for not being like the "classical autism" which was described mainly around male children.

4. How do you respond in situations if you're scared or worried?  How might you respond in an ER or in a traffic accident?

This is rare for me after three decades of life, but if I have no script or sense for what I should be doing, I tend to freeze.  When sufficiently stressed or when my brain has become too "worded out", I can become nonverbal or very low-verbal.

Other panel members described being fully verbal but completely incapable of handling any decision-making.  One even said she would need to be talked down, preferably with subjects like her favorite TV show, before she'd be able to engage with an emergency situation.

Another spoke of having a completely abnormal response to a traffic accident, where the panic and stress reaction that neurotypical humans experience quite literally didn't kick in.  While the driver of her car was still locked into gripping the steering wheel, she got out of the car, inspected the damage, and found it was a very minor accident.

5.  If you are a person who experiences sensory overload, would you prefer a quiet room in healthcare?  How is the noise level/stimulation in current healthcare areas now?

I am definitely sound-sensitive.  I'm not sure there is anything that counts as a quiet room in healthcare.  I've been in hospitals, they make me fervently hope I never have to go back.  There's always people moving and talking in the hallways, the sounds of machines and medical equipment inside the rooms, the fan or climate control going...

These were nice hospitals, too.  Pleasant staff, lots of windows, art on the walls, all of that.  I can't imagine trying to heal and recover in such a place.  I'm no longer surprised when I go to visit someone in the hospital and they look terrible.  Nobody looks good in a hospital.  They're just not good places to be, to me.

There was no disagreement on this subject.  Not one of the four of us found hospitals a relaxing, pleasant environment.

6.  What can a neurotypical physician do to help communicate with a person with autism?

I mentioned this above, but it merits the repetition: learn about and be open to "nonstandard" forms of communication.  The Picture Exchange Communication System is one of these.  Sign language, text-to-speech apps, and texting itself are others, and there are more.

Other panel members noted that it's best to presume competence (ie: treat the autistic person like they're a person, and assume they know what they're talking about even if they can't express it perfectly).  They also appreciated a willingness to listen, and patience when a person has difficulty giving a succinct answer.

7.  What has a physician done for you that was helpful?  Unhelpful?

I've found self-directed care to be the most useful.  Giving me the information I need to make my own decisions, rather than simply writing a prescription and making the judgement call themselves, was empowering.  Believing me when I describe symptoms that don't fit neatly into a medical textbook also features high on the list.  I've had primary care practitioners that either didn't do this or didn't care because they had such a high caseload or just... didn't care overall.  

Monday, November 18, 2019

Reading the Research: Warding off Depression with Movement

Welcome back to Reading the Research, where I trawl the Internet to find noteworthy research on autism and related subjects, then discuss it in brief with bits from my own life, research, and observations.

Today's article stresses the importance of movement.  Note: not even exercise, just movement.  Many of the typical US jobs don't involve a lot of movement, and once home from work, our leisure activities don't involve much movement either.  It used to be more common to take walks, or perhaps garden, dance, or participate in some kind of backyard sport.  

In this Information Age, it's much more likely you'll find people in front of the TV, playing video games, or just browsing the Internet on their smartphones.  I'm more guilty of this than most: my work is a desk job, and my leisure is usually video games or watching Let's Plays with my spouse.  None of this innately involves movement.  

I've actually tried to fold using an exercise bike into playing my video game, but the extra shaking from the exercise has proved problematic for doing anything requiring precision in the game.  I also tend to get crabby and annoyed because of the extra effort.  I think I'll probably do better if I simply try to watch Let's Plays or listen to podcasts...  but this is kind of why I hope virtual reality will soon include games that specifically require movement.  

In any case, humans evolved to be active, mobile creatures.  The lack of built in movement in our lives has consequences.  This article notes one: higher chances of having depressive episodes.  On the flip side, movement can protect against depression, even in people who are genetically predisposed to suffer it.  Finding a leisure activity that involves movement, even movement that isn't strenuous, can protect against depression, and can reduce the amount of suffering you experience.  

What leisure activities do you have in your life?  Can you work movement into them?  Are there activities involving movement you might want to try?  

(Pst! If you like seeing the latest autism-relevant research, visit my Twitter, which has links and brief comments on studies that were interesting, but didn't get a whole Reading the Research article about them.)

Friday, November 15, 2019

Fortune Cookie Rant: "Uniqueness"

Fortune from a fortune cookie: Your uniqueness is more than an outward experience.
Fortune cookie: "Your uniqueness is more than an outward experience."

I went to a Chinese buffet this week.  This came out of my fortune cookie.  I think the creator of this "fortune" (note: not a fortune, not even advice) meant to be complimentary.  Like, "I, this little scrap of paper with some semblance of cultural authority, written by some American wherever this cookie was produced, believe you (a stranger I've never met) to be truly unique."  In fact, when I showed it to the friend I'd gone to the buffet with, that's exactly how they took it. 

Me?  I looked at the little scrap of paper, scowled, and said, "Well DUH.  Ugh." 

So here's the thing about being autistic and being able to blend in somewhat.  Short of when you're alone, you pretty much never get to forget about it.  You are always measuring how you're doing, how you're interacting with others, how others are interacting with you, what the environment is like, etc.  This is not, frankly, an enviable position, and I don't enjoy being in it.  I recognize it as a necessary evil in order to keep the broad neurotypical majority comfortable, so they'll treat me like I'm a human rather than a child or something subhuman. 

Think I'm being harsh?  Here, read thisOr thisOr even this.  Autistic lives are lost all the time to situations like this.  What doesn't usually make the news is the other costs of not fitting in.  Things like not being able to keep a job, and being unable to find friends.  The depression and anxiety that come with those situations piles complications on top of an already complicated life. 

Humans are pulled two ways, in terms of this question.  We're a social species.  We like to fit in, to be understood, to be part of a community (sameness).  But we also like to stand apart in good ways, be valuable for ourselves, be unique (difference).  Two sides of a line spectrum.  Most people fall somewhere in the middle.  I fall somewhere towards the "uniqueness" side and farther away from the "fits in" side.

I got my diagnosis about a decade ago.  After I finished being confused about how the DSM criteria didn't really describe me, I experienced a deep surge of despair and bitterness.  I'd spent from about age 10 to about age 20 trying to learn how to fit in, without compromising myself too much.  Receiving my diagnosis was the death knell for my hopes of ever finding some place to fit in.  I'd tried very hard, but the answer was that it was never going to be enough. 

Am I unique?  Absolutely.  Everyone is to some extent.  No two humans are the same.  Am I more distinctively unique than most?  Probably.  I have a strong personality and will, definite viewpoints and opinions, interests, etc.  I don't need a fortune cookie to tell me I'm a unique person.  Mostly, it just underlines to me how different I'm always going to be. 

My best hope is to try to build a world where it's not so isolating to be so unique.  

Monday, November 11, 2019

Reading the Research: Magical Selective Volume Control

Welcome back to Reading the Research, where I trawl the Internet to find noteworthy research on autism and related subjects, then discuss it in brief with bits from my own life, research, and observations.

Today's article explains a magical superpower most allistic/neurotypical people have.  Have you ever had to focus really hard on a single conversation in a really crowded, loud room, like a sports bar, or a club, or even a noisy gymnasium?  Maybe it was tough, but you managed to pick out that one person or conversation amidst the barrage of other sounds and conversations.  Cool, right?  Helpful?

Turns out your brain does this by selectively amplifying the sound of the conversation you want to hear.  Kind of like turning up a particular microphone on the sound board while turning the main volume of everything else down. That's a superpower, and it's one many autistic people do not have, or don't have as great an ability in as normal humans.  

On one hand, this means we're more sensitive to changes in the environment, and can often track down pesky noises others might miss.  The faint but present rasp in the whine of a refrigerator may herald a part going bad, and we'll know it before the part fails and the contents of the refrigerator are lost.  Or we'll be able to detect the sound of a belt going bad on a car long before you actually need to replace it.  I've done both of these in the last few years. 

On the other hand, a crowded party or sports bar with lots of chatter and noise can be nearly impossible to have a conversation in.  I even recently had trouble hearing a friend talking as we sat in front of a TV with YouTube videos running.  The TV wasn't even up that loud, and she wasn't even talking that quietly.  I just couldn't separate what she was saying from the unpredictability of the videos.  

It's not that I don't have the ability at all, though it sure feels like it when it's failing me.  But on bad days, I might as well not have it.  All the noise in the world comes to my brain unprioritized and bewilderingly loud.  On good days, I do have some of that automated prioritization and volume control that everyone else can take for granted.  It's a really cool ability, and I enjoy having it when I do.  

(Pst! If you like seeing the latest autism-relevant research, visit my Twitter, which has links and brief comments on studies that were interesting, but didn't get a whole Reading the Research article about them.)

Friday, November 8, 2019

WYR: Gift or Disability?

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/my-life-aspergers/201910/is-autism-becoming-neurodiversity

Healthy.  Independent.  Normal.  These three adjectives summarize the US ideal for an adult human.  Look very carefully at these three adjectives. 

We strive very hard for these, but if we ever truly qualified for them, it was a very fleeting qualification, perhaps in our early 20s.  In terms of health, the instant you develop any kind of chronic health problem, like migraines, sleep disorders of any kind, mental illness, you've lost that ideal and will likely never have it back again.  The vast majority of US citizens do not count as "healthy."  Our bodies break down over time, or come with genetic quirks that can cause problems.  Perfect health is a fleeting illusion.

Independence is a funny one.  Unless you want to live alone, off the grid, in some cabin you built yourself without tools in the middle of nowhere, growing and foraging your own food and drinking your water out of a stream or lake, you are not independent.  We like to take things like roads, saws, screwdrivers, education, and the Internet for granted, but each of them involves other people.  Usually a lot of other people!  You rely on those other people every time you use these things. 

I feel very confident in saying literally no one who reads this post, even if it was printed out on paper and brought to far corners of the US, is independent.  Independence is an illusion. 

Normalcy, well...  I have yet to run into anyone who can define normalcy in a way that doesn't sound stupid at best and horrifyingly straitjacketing at worst.  We can safely say I have a bias here: after all, I've been autistic since before I was born, and so I've never been "normal."  I just don't see the point. 

Yes, it's good to have places where you feel you belong, but usually the people deciding who's included aren't going to include the full range of human diversity, even diversity like "I like this other sport" or "I really liked this unpopular song because even though it's bad, it spoke to me personally." 

As such, autistic people are almost invariably left out... but everyone, even neurotypical people, have the experience of being excluded at some point in their lives.  From what I've heard and read, it's about as fun as being excluded for being autistic. It's just a less systemic, less regular occurrence than what often happens to us.  You don't ever get to always be normal.  And honestly, given the vast range of human diversity, I kinda think normalcy is also an illusion.

And there you go.  What we idealize, we can never be for long, if ever.  I have a lot of problems with the medical autism mode of thought, but I do at least recognize that it addresses very real disabilities and support needs.  Neurodiversity is the pushback to the stigma that medical autism has forced on us.  It is, like the social model of disability before it, a much healthier, though incomplete, philosophy. 

If we welcome everyone, then everyone, neurotypical or not, will be welcome.  If we accommodate and support health differences, everyone, perfect health or not, will be welcome.  If we recognize that everyone relies on thousands, even millions, of other people every day, we won't find higher support needs so offputting, and may find ourselves learning and growing as people.  

Monday, November 4, 2019

Reading the Research: Brain Differences

Welcome back to Reading the Research, where I trawl the Internet to find noteworthy research on autism and related subjects, then discuss it in brief with bits from my own life, research, and observations.

Today's article is actually a set of articles, detailing different findings about the autistic brain from studying brain tissue samples.  Theories of the past about autism have focused rather intently on genetics, with hopes that if we could just figure out which genes are associated with autism, we could figure out how autism works.  

Those theories have borne no fruit.  There are apparently hundreds of genes associated with autism, and those genes are not shared overall.  Furthermore, genetics itself is a far more complicated matter than simply "this gene means brown eyes, that one means blue eyes."  

If genetics is the "nature," epigenetics is the "nurture": what kind of environment you live in may turn genes on and off.  Your genetics may predispose you to have depression, but if you grow up in a stable, loving environment with plenty of movement and good nutrition, and suffer very little by way of trauma, that gene may never activate and you may never need anti-depressants.  

Instead, it seems the key to autism may be in neurology: differences in the connections between parts of the brain, number of neurons, and other brain structures.  These features can vary quite widely, which goes a long way to explaining why autistic people ourselves vary so widely.  

(Pst! If you like seeing the latest autism-relevant research, visit my Twitter, which has links and brief comments on studies that were interesting, but didn't get a whole Reading the Research article about them.)

Friday, November 1, 2019

WYR: Planning an Inclusive Event

http://www.thinkingautismguide.com/2019/10/how-to-plan-accessible-events.html

It's weird to me that this list of suggestions is 28 entries long and still counts as incomplete.  It's because there are so many forms of disability, and trying to address them all individually is extremely complicated.  And the bigger the event, the more of these suggestions apply, because the more kinds of people you need to serve. 

However, knowing your audience is important.  If you're hosting an event specifically for members of the Deaf community, you might not need to check whether the location has a wheelchair ramp or remove any fragrance dispensers, unless you know some of those people also have physical access challenges or sensory sensitivities. 

In general, I'd say it's best practice to be safe rather than sorry, and to do as many of these as you can manage.  But I do understand that in practicality, it's complicated and can be exhausting to merely run the event, never mind going down a list of 28 things to make sure you have as many accessibility boxes checked as possible.