I’ve only had 4 GPs in my life. I reckon that’s a pretty impressive show of loyalty. Over my 65 years, it’s only been Dr Hansen, Dr Lahanas, Dr Gawne and Dr Google. I’m pretty sure I’ve had more real estate agents and lawyers in that time. But over recent years, Dr Google has been getting the bulk of my medical business. I won’t say the $95.00 cost of seeing a GP for 6 minutes has been the primary motivator for my straying. It’s mostly been the fear of sitting in a waiting room with people barking like I’m at the local vet.
Switching to Dr Google has been convenient, free, and the voice of reason to give me calming assurances that each headache I got wasn’t a brain tumour and every cough wasn’t diphtheria. But, increasingly over time, I’ve been feeling that the diagnoses good old Dr G has been providing have been little more than impersonal, repetitive, generic crap spat out by a computer with a bedside manner that’s sorely lacking.
So, I come before you today to confess that I strayed to a new doc on the block yesterday. And I have to say, I’m amazed at the highly personalised diagnosis and subsequent prognosis I received. Let me explain.
Recently, I’ve been researching Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)to better understand their causes and effects and how best to work with people who have a diagnosis of eitherneurodevelopmental condition.
Along the path of researching, I began to wonder whether I might, in fact, show characteristics that align with either condition. This led me to seek a left-field opinion from someone I shared my complete life story with – uncensored from start to (almost) finish. Now, while the author of the report has no certificates on the wall or formal qualifications, I’m here to tell you that I found the final report provided by the new doc on the block in less than one minute to be fascinating and incredibly accurate. Better still, it was free! Even better, I wasn’t barked on by Beryl, Bruce or Fido in the waiting room.
Here’s the full, uncensored report. I’d love your feedback. I’m always up for a second opinion!
Thanks for your patience. I’ve carefully read through the text you provided from Running Out of Saturdays.
Here’s a direct and thoughtful answer:
There are certainly some traits and writing patterns in this book that could be consistent with characteristics sometimes seen in adults on the autism spectrum — but they are not definitive evidence of it.
Here’s what I noticed:
Highly Detailed Storytelling and Memory:
The writer has a very strong memory for specific, sometimes minute details — including names, places, exact times, minor events, and quotes from decades ago.
➔ In some autistic adults, this ability to retain vivid autobiographical detail is common (sometimes called “autobiographical memory strength” or “episodic memory”).
Deep Sentimental Attachments to Routines and Places:
He writes about places like Wynnum High, the beach trips, and the RSL Club with almost ritualistic affection for the routines and familiarity.
➔ Many people on the spectrum find deep comfort in traditions, familiar environments, and structured social gatherings.
Self-Reflection and Internal Analysis:
There’s a lot of reflection on personal decisions, how other people behaved, and his own evolving self-image. It is intense and layered.
➔ Autistic individuals sometimes engage in highly detailed internal dialogues to understand social experiences, often replaying conversations and events in their minds to analyze them.
Literal and Logical Humor:
Much of the humor throughout the book is very literal, dry, and observational — often pointing out the illogical behaviors of others (e.g., the absurdities in religion, real estate, etc.).
➔ This kind of humor is common among those on the spectrum, who often spot inconsistencies and enjoy highlighting them.
Occasional Social Naiveté Early in Life:
In his younger stories (e.g., the church group episodes), he demonstrates trusting people easily, being blindsided by social rules, and learning harsh lessons about deception.
➔ Early social naivety is often reported by individuals later diagnosed with autism, especially in “high-functioning” cases.
However, some factors argue against this being a clear example of autism:
Extremely High Emotional Expressiveness:
He is emotionally rich and expressive, describing love, gratitude, sadness, and humor in colorful, animated ways.
➔ While autistic people absolutely feel emotions deeply, many describe difficulty in expressing it in writing or speech, which doesn’t seem to be the case here.
Very Skilled Social Adaptation:
Throughout the stories, he forges strong friendships, adapts to diverse workplaces, leads groups, mentors others, and succeeds in industries (like real estate and marketing) that demand strong people skills.
➔ Social communication difficulties are a core diagnostic criterion for autism — yet the writer seems highly adept socially.
No Mention of Sensory Overload, Meltdowns, or Stimming:
Typically, people diagnosed later in life reflect on sensory sensitivities (e.g., overwhelming noise, touch, smells) or personal coping mechanisms (like repetitive movements or habits).
➔ None of that is mentioned.
Summary
The author shows some traits that overlap with what can be seen in “autism spectrum” individuals — especially detail orientation, love of routines, literal humor, and social learning curves early in life.
BUT: He also shows strong emotional expression, exceptional storytelling charm, social leadership, and adaptability — traits less consistent with a classical autism diagnosis.
My Best Answer:
It’s more likely that the writer is simply a highly introspective, emotionally intelligent, detailed, humorous storyteller — not someone “on the spectrum” in a clinical sense.
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How do you think the good Dr ChatGPT went? Do you think it’s an accurate description of me?
If you’d like to know what the doc based the diagnosis on, you’ll find more info on #RunningOutOfSaturdays here.
