Autistic resident on the road to a better life

ANDOVER, Mass. (AP) — Sam Barad is the ideal housemate at the "Methuen House." He cooks, cleans, shops for groceries, exercises and always seems to do all of the above with a big, hearty smile.

It's the last part, the 18-year-old's effervescent, pleasant smile, that sometimes brings his mom, Nancy Zlotsky, to tears.

"Trust me, these are good tears," says Zlotsky, who recently moved to Andover. "It's all good. Seeing Sam now compared to when he arrived at Melmark last January (of 2014) is truly a miracle. It has changed his life. It's changed my life."

Sam is autistic.

The miracle part, which has included intensive instruction and care — 24 hours a day and seven days a week for the last 22 months — is the transformation.

"If I were to go back to the day we got him, and then to see him now ... You wouldn't recognize him," said Mike Nazzaro, the program director at Melmark's residential home in Methuen, called the "Methuen House."

"He's one of the happiest people I know," said Nazzaro. "He's healthy. He's strong. Sam is a new, young man."

Sam had been a major behavioral problem with the previous agency, wearing a protective helmet and arm splints nearly 24 hours a day.

He had a high rate of self-injury — his mom estimated he has hit himself on his head "at least a million times" — and aggression toward others, including staffers, was off the charts.

"He would be all alone in a room and put the bean bag chair over his head to black out the lights because his head hurt," said Zlotsky. "They thought it was bad behavior, that his autism was the problem. But it was more than that."

Nancy Zlotsky knew something wasn't right about Sam a few months after his first birthday while the family lived in Ivory Coast, a West African country. Nancy and her then-husband, Robert Barad, both worked for companies that help under-developed countries.

"Sam was completely normal, doing things every other baby was doing," she recalls. "Then around 15 months to 18 months I started realizing something wasn't right. Sam was my second (child). He stopped talking. He was walking on his tip-toes. And he would hop and flap his arms.

"I had that book that most expecting mothers have, 'What To Expect When Your Expecting,'" Zlotsky says. "I started going through it one day and one of the first things I saw, because it was alphabetized, was the 'autism' chapter. It said early signs are flapping arms and walking on tip-toes."

She called her husband, who was away on business, and read him the part about "early signs."

"I'm not a denial person," Zlotsky says. "I'd rather know and figure out how to deal with it right away."

At 23 months, in 1998, Sam was officially diagnosed as autistic.

They eventually decided to move back to the U.S., Washington, D.C. — both of their sons were born at George Washington University Hospital.

But work took them both back to Africa, and a five-hour plane flight from London where U.S.-trained experts would come to their home for visits.

"They would fly (to Africa) every two months," says Zlotsky. "We were all were trained in behavior modification, including our nanny, our American teacher."

Another move to Uganda, where most of Zlotsky's workload was based, proved to be difficult in terms of getting Sam the support he needed. Zlotsky, a Connecticut native, did some research and realized some of the best treatment options for autism were in Massachusetts. She was familiar with the state as she attended Tufts University in Medford as an undergrad.

"When it comes to public help and well-being, Massachusetts is the best place to live," she says. "I believe it's the legacies of the Kennedys."

Zlotsky says Melmark entered her radar as Sam's future looked totally hopeless.

Her biggest fear was that Sam, who had lost all semblance of independence, would eventually be sent away to a psychiatric hospital ... maybe forever.

"It scared the daylights out of me," she says. "Sam's behavior issues were treated with drugs, some very heavy drugs. It was awful. They were acting as if he was a lost cause."

When Sam was 16, Zlotsky brought him to a specialist who dealt with pain in non-verbal children at Children's Hospital. It was there, says Zlotsky, that a doctor said Sam showed signs of someone with post-concussion syndrome, pertaining to the many times he hit himself in the head.

"He was being treated for autism, but it's a medical issue," says Zlotsky.

Enter Melmark New England in Andover.

Zlotsky had done her research and wanted a change for Sam and reached out to Melmark. The process was a tedious and difficult one, particularly due to Sam's difficult case.

Melmark's Chief Clinical Officer Frank Bird eventually was part of a team that visited Sam at the prior facility to view his case profile.

"We heard about the struggles at that setting and spoke with clinicians that worked with Sam for years," said Bird. "We had heard he used to a lot of things independently and was active. Then his profile changed. It was evident to me he was obviously impaired and what he was doing was a function of Sam deciding to shut it down.

"He didn't appear motivated," recalled Bird. "Here's a teenager, a young man so to speak, and a whole host of skills that disappeared. I just figured if he had those skills once, can we motivate him again. He flew with his dad overseas. That's not easy for a disabled person. If he could do that, there was something to work with."

Bird's wife, Rita Gardner, who was recently named CEO of Melmark Inc., was the executive director of the Andover operation when Sam was being evaluated as a prospective student and resident. She admitted she was not originally on board.

"Frank had to convince me to take Sam," recalled Gardner. "There was liability issues. He had some real behavioral issues that were a concern. But Frank said, clinically, Melmark could help Sam. I trust Frank. He's not only my husband but he's one of the best clinicians around. If anybody could evaluate and help Sam, it's Frank and clinical group."

One thing Bird noticed from initial meetings with Sam and the staff at his former facility was that a lot of people feared him, especially staff members.

"Sam figured it out, that by exhibiting extreme forms of behavior, people retracted from him and that he was in control," said Bird. "When you think about it, that's pretty smart of him."

Bird and Melmark's top clinicians were involved with Sam early on.

In fact, one of their first acts was to remove the helmet (most of the day) and arm splints with the thought being his progress, while not perfect, would be quicker.

"To reverse things a bit we had to get him to realize he can't control everything, as he had done for some time," said Bird.

"The rules changed," said Bird. "The message to Sam was, 'Guess what? Regardless of the behavior we are going to require he participate in activities, engage with others, including his family. He had gone from a setting in which he was isolated in a room and refused to engage in academics and other functional activities to being a young man who is out and about in a school setting, fully participating."

It's safe to say that because of their daily interaction at the Methuen House, few if any people know Sam better than the house's program director, Mike Nazzaro.

Nazzaro has seen Sam's remarkable journey from the start.

"He was very, very challenging when he arrived," said Nazzaro. Now Nazzaro watches him cook, clean, tend to his garden and even shop and pay for food at the big grocery stores.

"He's always hungry. Always," said Nazzaro. "I think that's why he talks about food so much."

Sam also likes the trips students and residents take every weekend. Go-karts, ice cream and trips to Jordan's Furniture (in Reading), where the kids get to witness the light show, are among his favorites.

A former football player at both Masconomet Regional and Bridgewater State, Nazzaro, 25, said he got the idea to add a little exercise in Sam's life.

"When I was a teenage boy I played sports," said Nazzaro. "Not only was it fun but it was a way to get rid of all this energy. He was an energetic kid so we figured we'd try to push him a little bit in that area."

Nazzaro and the staff taught Sam to do sit-ups and push-ups, which he apparently liked. Then, one day Nazzaro got the idea to prod Sam to get up and try the treadmill at the house.

Sam did ... reluctantly.

"After about 30 seconds he got off," says Nazzaro. "I could see it in his face, 'What is this?' He said he was done."

It piqued Sam's interest, as did doing more push-ups and sit-ups, particularly when he worked with a partner.

"He started seeing exercising as fun," said Nazzaro. "We got him back on the treadmill and he started doing three miles per hour, which is like walking. He started to expand a bit and then one night he really wanted to start running and had the treadmill moving at six miles per hour, which is running at a decent speed. He was laughing. It was amazing to watch."

Sam was hooked.

Nazzaro and other staffers started adding music from Sam's playlist while he was running on the treadmill. When his favorite song - the theme song to "Fraggle Rock," a Muppets program - Sam would almost cheer while running.

"He's smiling from ear to ear, arms flapping," said Nazzaro. "I don't know if it's the endorphins kicking in or not. But who doesn't feel good when they work out? All I know is he's in unbelievable shape."

The fringe benefits to his running, says Nazzaro, is that he not only looks better, but he's stronger and sleeping as well as he has ever slept at the house.

Last March, Nazzaro and another staffer entered Sam into the Claddagh Pub 4-Mile Lassic Road Race. While he had run near the Methuen House, they weren't sure how he'd do with 1,100 runners expected in Lawrence on this chilly day.

"He was amazing," said Zlotksy, of her son. "He had no problem with the crowds. In fact, I think he loved it. I don't know where he finished, but he finished ahead of a lot of people."

Nazzaro recently got another idea. He and his family have run the Newburyport Half-Marathon, 13.1 miles, the last three years. He got the OK from Sam's family and, of course, Sam, to give it a try. The race is Sunday.

Sam upped his mileage on the treadmill, running 10 miles on several occasions over the last few weeks, without any issues. Recently, Nazzaro took Sam for a long run outside in Methuen, to get him used to being on the roads for a few hours.

"The joke at (Melmark) is, 'Will you be able to keep up with him?" Nazzaro said. "On our training run I looked at my watch after the first mile and it says, '7 minutes and 30 seconds,' which is way, way too fast. I told him, 'Sam, I won't make it at that pace. You have to run at my pace.'"

Joking aside, Nazzaro said he believes today's race is another notch in Sam's life, epitomizing his incredible growth at Melmark.

"Him being able to run a very big race, along side his peers and adults is huge," said Nazzaro. "And the fact that he'll probably beat a good amount of them says a lot right there. Sam is proving he's a lot like everyone else."

Zlotsky says her son's progress the last 18 months has been life-changing.

"I can't explain what it has meant after having so much anguish before," says Zlotsky, who still spends time in Washington, D.C. for work, but gets home to Andover every other weekend to see Sam and often attend trips with the kids.

"Sam's older brother, Richard, again has a great relationship with him, and so does his father (Robert)," says Zlotsky. "They are joggers and run a little bit. But they both said that he is a better runner. I think it's wonderful.

"I don't know if it's a miracle, but considering where he was and where he is now, always smiling like he used to, it probably is," said Zlotsky.

"But one thing I am sure about," she said. "Melmark saved Sam's life."

Melmark's school on River Road in Andover hosts 120 students, ages 3 to 22 years.

There are five residential homes for children (under 22), one in Methuen, three in Dracut and one in West Peabody. There are about eight students per home, which is staffed 24 hours a day, seven days week.

Recently opened two adults residential homes in Methuen and Tewksbury.

The "mission" is to serve children, adults and their families affected by a broad range of intellectual disabilities, providing evidence-based, educational, vocational, clinical, residential, healthcare and rehabilitative services, personally designed for each individual in an environment of warmth, care and respect.

The "vision" is to continue to grow its national and international reputation as a Center of Excellence. Melmark's services will always be evidence-based best practices, designed and validated by recognized leaders in the field. We will continue to generate and disseminate knowledge through research, publications, presentations and training.

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Information from: Eagle Tribune (North Andover, Mass.), http://www.eagletribune.com

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