Facing a major hurricane, my ADHD son’s brain got organized — fast.

My son has ADHD and is in his freshman year of college in Daytona Beach, Florida, the coastal city that Hurricane Ian pounded for two days in September. As that massive storm formed, only one thing was sure. He was on his own.

My aunt, who lives an hour from campus and is his emergency contact, was out of town. My son doesn’t have a car and with airports closing there was no way to fly him the more than 800 miles home. Not surprisingly, he began to panic thinking he would have to ride the storm out at school. And as his mom, I began to panic, too.

I didn’t get much sleep over the two days the hurricane hit Daytona Beach with heavy rain and gusting winds. My older son, who happens to be a meteorology major in college, provided me with updates on the storm. I made him promise to call me if I had to tell his brother to evacuate his fourth-floor dorm room. I constantly checked up on my son to make sure he was safe and not thinking about riding his electric skateboard outside because he thought it would be fun. (He’s a daredevil at times.)

But after our shared initial panic, my son did something surprising (for him). He became calm, cool, and collected. His ADHD brain stepped up in the face of an emergency and his panic transformed to preparedness. I mentioned to him that he should get some supplies in case the power went out. The grocery store is not within walking distance of campus, so he coordinated a group of friends, including someone with a car, to go to the store and buy supplies.

He made sure both his phone and laptop were fully-charged, and that he had batteries for his flashlight. He did all of this without any instruction from me. As I watched in amazement, it occurred to me that during a crisis, my son’s brain is similar to a hurricane. After initial confusion and disorganization, his thinking becomes well-organized, with a moment of clarity like the eye of the storm.

The challenges of ADHD didn’t disappear entirely just because there was a crisis. For example, the university provided boxed meals since the dining halls were going to be closed. But my son, having just stocked up on instant mac and cheese, ramen noodles, and peanut butter and jelly, didn’t feel like he needed the boxed meal distributed on that first, and only, night.

He didn’t completely read through the message sent out to students. Thinking the boxes would be distributed for every meal, he missed that the box contained dinner, and breakfast and lunch for the following day. He managed to go with the flow and not get frustrated (very un-ADHD-like of him), eating the food he bought at the store. It was a moment for him to learn how to manage his ADHD and not get upset whenever something was outside of his control.

Ever since my son was young, I have always maintained that if there is a zombie apocalypse, I would stick with him to ensure my survival. Initially, that decision was based on his collection of wilderness survival gear. But now my choice would be based on his ability to rise to the challenge and stay calm in a crisis.

As I placed the finishing touches on this post, an alert came through on my phone — another storm is developing in the Atlantic and a hurricane warning has just been issued for Daytona Beach. And instead of panicking, I’m confident my son’s ADHD brain will get organized and help him to stay safe. Just like it did during Hurricane Ian.