Good luck with the drop-in reshape. SALTs have specialisms just like doctors, so, for instance, one of my children was referred by the drop-in SALT to a specialist in ASD and receptive language problems, whereas the other has recently been referred to a specialist in stammering. Others specialise in problems getting the words out. I think a realistic goal for a drop-in clinic is to get the broad nature of the problem identified. I'm sure you already know that you must emphasise the problems following instructions, recognising own name, showing you things, etc, rather than what he can or cannot "say".
As to Einstein..... you'll be safe from Einstein stories on the special needs board Reshape - I suggest you make your way there. Yes, Einstein's intellect was obviously strongly "tilted" towards extreme pattern recognition, but he managed to shore up his weakness - the download slope of the "tilt" - so that he could end up excelling. People like him could be viewed as a subset of people with ASD-type "tilted" brain function, albeit a subset who never had any problems with following logical sequences. But any inference that a parent should ignore a child's problems because they might just be in the minority that self-resolve is stupid and needs squashing.
My DS2 had poor ability to recognise his own name until 3.6 - realising that was a terrifying moment. His receptive language was absolutely dreadful. Looking back, it's impossible to know what led to his sudden spurt of progress in his fourth year. Was it just his genetic code? Was it my therapeutic efforts, which became far more effective once a specialist SALT had pointed out that he was a classic visual learner with sensory imbalances? Was it the fact that he is blessed with an adored old brother who could adapt his behaviour to DS2's from an unusually early age? We'll never know. But the one thing I can be absolutely sure of is that my consciencious efforts, disguised as play, made him a less anxious, more secure child than he otherwise would have been - his family forged a link between him and the world, and I accepted that an hour working at his most basic level of deficit was worth ten hours getting him to seem more like other children. I can still remember a moment in the nursery playground where I was celebrating a tiny achievement with the nursery teacher - returning a ball she had rolled to him I think. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of a concerned parent "clocking" that there was obviously "something wrong" if an event like this was a cause for celebration and I remember the lovely sense of knowing that I did not give a toss about being observed like that, because what we'd achieved was too important, and too much fun.
DS2, now 7, might just be a new "little Einstein", if his new-found ability at chess is anything to go by, and he is, in the official parent's evening language, "not a loner", though he isn't Mr Popularity either. Does that mean I regret putting my career on the back burner to prioritise his needs for three years? No. It is the most productive, creative, and fulfilling thing I have ever done in my entire life, and that would be the case even if his development path had not steered its way back towards the norm.