Before any clinical detail: this is a mother who had spent two years watching her son be unwell more than he was well, holding onto a suspicion she could never quite dismiss — that his body and his home were carrying something no one had thought to test for.
Picture it from inside the flat. A small boy who is poorly far more than he is well — a temperature in the night, an ear that flares again, another prescription — and who, at not yet three, still has not begun to talk. You learn to read him off his body: the hand that goes to the ear, the turning away, the particular cry that means something hurts rather than something is wanted. You get good at it. And underneath the reading sits a quieter worry — that the being-unwell and the not-talking might be one story and not two, and that no appointment so far has been built to ask whether they are.
His first years had been hard on his body. Recurrent ear infections and high temperatures had meant four courses of antibiotics before he was fourteen months old. Glue ear followed, and grommet surgery under an ENT team — done well, and repeated when the first set failed. His GP, recognising the developmental picture, referred him onto the autism pathway. Every one of those steps was the right one, and none of them was structured to ask the question his mother kept circling: what was going on in the body underneath all of it?
Because there were signs of a body out of balance everywhere. Constipation. A chronic cough and congestion. Low immunity. Hyperactivity. A mould problem in the home that had been there since around the time he was born. And a strange detail from infancy — he had been given so much iron his teeth had stained — that would later turn out to matter enormously. So she came in, referred through the London Clinic of Nutrition, with two things written at the top of the form: low immune system, and autism. She was not expecting a transformation. She wanted somebody to look properly, and to be honest with her about what they found.