The RCGP has identified autism as a clinical priority and between 2014 and 2017 it will be facilitating projects aimed at improving autism awareness and management in primary care.
A survey of GPs conducted in 2015 showed that although many are knowledgeable about autism, they lack confidence in their abilities to manage patients on the spectrum and the need more support from local specialist services.
There is an urgent need to improve healthcare of people with autism. New research shows that autistic people die on average 16 years earlier than the general population and the gap in mortality increases if they also have learning disabilities.
GPs need to be aware of certain adaptations required when engaging with a patient who has autism. For example, although we are generally taught to use open ended questions, closed questioning can be more appropriate in consultations with an autistic child or adult. Patient with autism can also have an increased sensitivity to side effects of medications, indeed they may have idiosyncratic reactions to drugs.
In May 2016, The RCGP's Clinical News ebulletin focused specially on the theme of autism. The following articles were included:
To celebrate the Autistic Spectrum Disorders clinical priority, Jonathan Andrews of the Westminster Autism Commission, has written a poem about Autism. Jonathan is on the autistic spectrum and has won national, pan-European and pan-Commonwealth awards for his advocacy, which ensures the voices of autistic people are heard in positions of power.
Eye Contact
Sorry, but the bridge of your nose is peeling like
Old wallpaper, and the falling flakes
Are rather disconcerting.
Have you tried moisturising?
Forgive my bluntness; it’s just one of those
Things I notice, when I’m trapped in a chat
And have to summon up a civil face.
I spend aeons staring at your nose; because, to you,
It looks as though we’ve interlocked our gaze.
I got that off a dating site. I guess
I’m a Lothario, given the swathes
Of men and women that I use it on.
I’ve tried to make contact before. But when I stare
Into the window of your soul, Abyss
Stares back at me: A raging, unquenched fire
Of hungry skull-burrowing worms.
So then I have to rip the link, and tear
My eyes away, to whatever’s near;
Perhaps the table, perhaps the embroidered
Pillow resting on the swivel-chair.
But then you’d wonder why; assume
A gnat, or flashing light, had grabbed my sight;
Query why I was so grotesquely rude, to break
Mid-sentence. Then the seeds of doubt
In my devotion, and your thoughts of me
As some strange oddity would be confirmed.
So, all else being equal, I’d rather stare
At the skin-flakes peeling from your nose.