PARKVILLE, Md. — Melissa Gonce used to cry when her son came home from his day program soaked in urine, dehydrated and distressed.
Jason, 28, is nonverbal and profoundly disabled, with significant cognitive limitations and little awareness of danger — vulnerabilities that require constant, watchful care.
Some nights, the van that was supposed to bring him home arrived hours late. Gonce would call and call, scanning the street, her mind racing. When he finally arrived, he was sometimes slumped over, pants wet down to his socks, his fingertips bitten raw…