Yeah, I'm not getting the confusion here.
She is obviously the product of a genetic mismatch of genes from both her fathers, manipulated in such a way that she is neither their child, nor their collective clone. I'm guessing that a randomizing factor for the genes was implemented to simulate what happens naturally to sperm and egg cells. The result is, of course, unpredictable. On top of that, the fathers probably said to themselves: "While we're manipulating genes, let's make her really really smart!". Of course, that also has unpredictable results.
So the end product is a super brilliant child with very little motor control and a benign cancerous growth in her larynx.
The doctors didn't spot it because in its natural position it lay flat against the vocal membranes, and appeared as standard tissue in most imaging technology (MRI, CT, etc'). Only when she learned that she can flex it did it become visible (when she flexed it) to the most obvious of diagnostic tools: the endoscope. And why didn't she flex it when she was at an ENT or something? Well, maybe she hadn't been to one since she learned that she could flex it.
I don't think that this is a call-out to autism. In general, it's not that people with autism
can't communicate, it's that they don't
want to communicate. The spectrum is very broad: from thinking that you are the only real person and therefore you don't need to interact with other "people", to just not understanding that other people are trying to communicate with you (and everything in between). It's not a question of can't but of won't.
Charlene clearly understood the people around her, and clearly wanted to be understood by them. More a case of a
lock-in than autism.
Now, having gotten all of
that out of the way...
I really liked this story. It pulled all the right heartstrings. I felt for Charlene who just wanted to be understood and would do anything,
anything to accomplish that. I felt for her fathers who really truly loved her for who she is, but also wanted to help become more than herself. I felt their frustration and guilt, and all of the complex emotions that comes with being a parent.
Well done.