Double digits

2 Replies

And, just like that, the last member of our family has left the years of single digits behind him and has joined the ranks of those celebrating double digit birthdays. As well as celebrating the first decade of M’s life, we’re also marking 10 years of astounding challenges, amazing courage and unbelievable joy. Happy 10th little bean xxx

P1000073

“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

The Croissants Adventures: Part Deux

3 Replies

One of my biggest challenges for last week was set by M’s teacher, when she let me know on the Tuesday that they would be engaging in a spot of French role-play and would be tasting hot chocolate, croissants and other traditional French breakfast foods during the lesson. She was anxious that M shouldn’t feel left out and asked whether there was any chance I could send in something “…M-friendly and close to a pastry…” for the activity. The thing is that there really isn’t anything readily available that is even vaguely similar to a French pastry that is based on M’s handful of safe foods and so I knew this was going to be a baking challenge I needed to tackle and quickly. break05 My starting point was actually a conversation with M as there was no need to stress about how to create a French-inspired masterpiece for him, if he’d simply be satisfied with a rice krispie treat instead. We started on the matter of the hot chocolate and despite his desperate bids to start his cocoa trial weeks before Easter, rather than when planned, he quickly changed his tune – well who’d want to miss out on an Easter Egg if it’s up for offer?! – and settled on rice milk flavoured with banana nesquik for his drink. However, he was less open to be swayed on the matter of the croissants and I promised to at least investigate if there was anything I could do before the Friday deadline dawned. Fortunately, 2 years ago the school had hosted a MFL (Modern Foreign Languages) Day and whilst G’s needs were met by the purchase of some delicious Genius pain au chocolat, even then there was nothing I could buy that would suit M’s trickier requirements. I had researched and adapted a great vegan recipe for croissants and baked a batch that kept him happy, even if they were not quite up to my more exacting standards. I knew I had added that recipe to my blog and quickly had a skim-through the list of ingredients to see if a new and improved M-friendly version was even possible.

For once, luck seemed to be on M’s side and, after a quick internet search for possible alternatives to the yeast I’d needed before, I was able to tell my excited child that I was willing to at very least give it a go. With plenty of warnings that there were no guarantees regarding taste or texture, I tentatively started the long and drawn-out process of making the pastry dough. I swapped coconut oil for the Trex and a bicarbonate of soda and xanthum gum mix for the yeast. The dough was prepped on the Tuesday night and I popped it into the fridge for a couple of days until I needed it: that was a big mistake. IMG_0207[1] The coconut oil solidifies at cold temperatures and by the time I was ready to make and bake the croissants on Thursday evening, my pastry was now filled with marble-sized lumps of coconut oil that I just had to remove. Whether this made much of a difference to my final product, I really don’t know, but given that a lot of the flavour in a French pastry comes from the fat added to it, I don’t think I did myself any favours.

I rolled and folded, and folded and rolled for a good 25 minutes on Thursday evening, until my dough was smooth and no longer a sticky mess that couldn’t be worked and I carefully cut triangles and rolled each one into the croissant shape, complete with slight curve. With the excess dough, I formed 2 pastry cases and attempted a couple of apple turnovers as an unexpected treat. Once all my pastries were ready, IMG_0209[1] I popped them into the oven, set the timer and attempted to forget all about them until the bell rang. The turnovers ended up being a little overdone and I wasn’t entirely convinced by the croissants either, though both children devoured them eagerly and with far more gusto than I was expecting!

This morning I was asked by a friend if I was planning to make a third attempt and I didn’t know what exact answer to give. The time and patience needed to make this pastry was tough to fit in alongside the everyday hustle and bustle of our household, but I reaped huge rewards. M and G were delighted with this different treat and I know that with a little more tweaking and a lot more practice, I might end up with a M-friendly pastry that would open up a lot more possibilities for meals for him. Not just croissants or apple turnovers, but chicken pot pies spring to mind too. So my honest answer probably should be:

Just watch this space!

March comes in like a lion

1 Reply

Ever had one of “those” days? You know, the ones where you’re already insanely busy and barely have time to breathe and yet everything that could conceivably go wrong, does go wrong to an unbelievable extent, plus those few extra and unexpected hiccups and challenges that appear along the way. After the last 48 hours, I appear to be heading into not just one of “those” days or even one of “those” weeks, but more realistically, one of “those” months. The next few weeks promise to be extremely busy and I’m beginning to wonder how I’ll get everything done on time and in the right order. You know it’s a sad state of affairs when we’re only on the third day of the month and I’m already counting down to the start of the next one.

Wales from space, courtesy of UK astronaut, Tim Peake

The month started with our rather low-key marking of “Dydd Dewi Sant”, or St David’s Day for those of you not au fait with the Welsh language. Fortunately, this simply required some frantic scrabbling around my drawers hunting out the daffodil brooches that the children and I wear every year and remembering to pin them securely to school jumpers before heading out the door. The children were both keen and proud to wear their daffodils, though equally unimpressed that their friends didn’t know why they wearing them and so took the opportunity to quickly educate their classes. If I’d been more organised, I might have posted on the day itself, but I wasn’t and I didn’t, so this is me recognising that celebration of my heritage now.

But after that gentle start to the month, things have already started to ramp up. The next four weeks include:

Gotta love my left-field boy – who better than Ford Prefect from HitchHiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!

World book day and required costume x 1
parents evenings x 2
school book fairs x 2
M-friendly croissants (eek!) for French role-play at school with just 3 days advance notice to attempt adapting my MEWS-free recipe
Mothers Day
riding lessons
a 10th birthday (how did he get to be a decade old?)
birthday celebrations, including themed party and cake
class assembly x 1
dentist appointment
hair appointment
GOSH appointment
Easter
Performing Arts Exams x 2
school play, which translates into costume provision, rehearsals and performances
Spa day – a late birthday celebration which will be much-needed as it comes in the middle of the busiest week
events linked to school topics which will undoubtedly require some inventive cooking from me
preparations for a sibling camp for G, which gives her a week away with other youngsters in similar situations and, more importantly, a week away from M

gin-and-ton I’m sure that there will be things I’ve already forgotten and likewise, there’s no doubt that there will be more items added to my list as March passes by. Needless to say, I will be blogging about many of these occasions and just how I overcome the challenges of taking my M-friendly cooking and baking a step further than I ever imagined possible. Once all of these things are out of the way, it’ll be time for a well-deserved drink and, in case you’re wondering, mine’s a large gin!

What makes them rare

1 Reply

February 29th: a special day, an unusual day, a day so rare that it only comes round once every 4 years and, quite frankly, the perfect day to mark Rare Disease Day 2016. This is the opportunity to raise awareness of rare diseases and the impact they have on the people living with them, not just with the general public, but amongst medical professionals and policy-makers too. It initially launched as a European event in 2008 and is now marked in over 80 countries worldwide.

What is meant by a rare disease? Definitions of “rare” do differ from country to country, but across Europe a disease is considered rare when fewer than 1 in 2,000 people is diagnosed with it. The threshold in the USA is defined as when fewer than 200,000 Americans are diagnosed with that illness at any given time.

How many rare diseases are there? There are over 6,000 rare diseases known to be in existence and 80% of these have been identified as having genetic origins. Astonishingly, approximately 5 new rare diseases are described in medical literature every week.

Who is affected? Rare diseases can affect everyone, they’re not fussy about who they pick on. Over 3.5million people in the UK are affected by a rare disease, which equates to 1 in every 17 UK nationals. Somewhere between 50% and 75% of rare diseases will affect children and scarily, 30% of rare disease patients will die before they reach their 5th birthday.

Why raise awareness? The symptoms of a rare disease are frequently multiple and varied and not only are they not exclusive to that illness, but neither are they all experienced by all patients, which makes diagnosis a long and drawn out process. All too often the diseases are misdiagnosed and beneficial treatment can be unavoidably delayed. A lack of scientific knowledge and consensus throughout the medical community can add to the complexity of reaching a diagnosis and adds significantly to the burdens placed on the patient and their family.

What does Rare Disease Day mean to us?

Imagine being told that your child has a chronic illness that neither you, nor most of the medical professionals you’ll end up meeting from that point on, can pronounce – or have even heard of until that moment.

Imagine finding out that that illness is rare: that around 1 in 10,000 people are diagnosed with the most common form, but that your child has one of the rarest forms and that there is little research into it.

Imagine learning that even the medical community struggles to reach a consensus about this rare disease and whether it really exists or is simply part of a much bigger picture – but nonetheless, having to live with the reality of this rare disease and its effects on your family’s life on a daily basis.

(For those who wonder if EGID is real, try living with anyone who is in the midst of an EGID flare up and, bigger picture or not, you’ll understand why we will continue to fight for research into this unquestionably chronic and life-impacting illness.)

Imagine the heartbreak of holding your sobbing child at 3am, with tears streaming down your own face, as you struggle to find some, any words to bring him a little comfort.

Imagine taking one food after another out of his diet in a hope to bring some relief from the chronic pain and poor bowel function, until you are left with the final realisation that perhaps you need to remove everything and feed him via a tube to see if that is the answer you’ve been seeking for the first 9 years of his life.

And then imagine starting to put foods back in, one at a time, only to discover that his body has allergic reactions to more than you ever thought possible.

Does this sound familiar to you?

This is the reality of the last 3 years of our life with a rare disease as the truth of EGID is that symptoms are complex, understanding is limited and medical research funding scarce. M’s diagnosis with EC makes him rare, so please help raise awareness today, not just about EGID, but of other rare diseases and those living with them too.

My One Constant Companion

11 Replies

HS_Birthdays_30th Today I’m celebrating a very special day, a milestone birthday of a very different kind. Google has revealed that Steve Jobs, Ben Miller and Kristin Davis were all born on this day, but as interesting as that is, I’m not really celebrating their birthdays. Today is my Godmother’s birthday, but it’s much more than that too. Today also happens to be my birthday, but, according to my birth certificate and my Mum, both of whom I trust implicitly, I’ve got another 366 days to wait until I reach my next noteworthy milestone, so my birthday celebrations this year are relatively low-key. Despite all these great reasons to celebrate, today I’m marking 30 years of one of the most significant events in my life:

30 years of living with T1D*

This is me, the Christmas before I was diagnosed

With a less than auspicious twist of fate, my life changed completely on the day I celebrated my 9th birthday and, believe it or not, 30 years on I can say that it arguably changed for the better. Don’t get me wrong, I would give anything to not be living side-by-side with a chronic illness, but the events of that day enabled me to return to much improved health and, most importantly, haven’t stopped me doing pretty much anything I’ve wanted to since then. After months, and maybe even years, of displaying what are now the well-recognised symptoms of undiagnosed diabetes – think excessive, unquenchable thirst; massive weight loss; increasing and unexplained lethargy and a constant need to wee – an unexpected collapse at school led to an emergency hospital admission, a fear-filled night as my parents had to face the unimaginable possibility of losing me and finally a diagnosis that would shape the way my future unfolded. Without even knowing it, and certainly with little regard for my opinion, this uninvited visitor came and took up permanent residence in my body, where it has lived in varying degrees of co-operation since the mid-1980s.

The last 30 years have seen amazing developments in the care of T1D, but the most momentous event actually happened 65 years before my own diagnosis. Before 1921, my parents’ worst fears of that night would have been realised as, until the discovery of insulin at the University of Toronto by Banting and Best, SAM_0827 those diagnosed with diabetes mellitus had no chance of survival and could only delay death from the illness itself by starving the body instead. Their discovery followed on from the hard work of other scientists and medics from around the world such as Oskar Minkowski, Joseph von Mehring and Paul Langerhans, for whom the cells in the pancreas were named, and I doubt that any can deny the life-changing impact that the discovery of insulin has had on those of us living with T1D.

My first decade with T1D was heavily influenced by the incredible mind of my consultant, Professor B, who was compassionate, understanding and impressively forward-thinking in his approach to my care. One great example of his progressiveness is reflected by the DAFNE (Dose Adjustment For Normal Eating) approach to T1D management, which teaches PWD** to “…match their insulin dose to their chosen food intake on a meal by meal basis…“, and which was introduced to mainstream diabetes care in 1998 as a somewhat revolutionary new step. I somewhat nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders at the announcement as I’d been following that regime for around 10 years before it was accepted as being effective by the rest of the diabetes world, all thanks to Professor B and his focus on helping to improve my teen struggles with T1D.

My collection of Novopens!

Likewise, within 2 or 3 years of diagnosis, my “futuristic” disposable syringes and bottles of insulin, which had replaced the glass syringes and metal hypodermic needles of the 1950s that needed constant sterilising and re-sharpening, had themselves been replaced with one of the first models of the Novopen. This was the first insulin pen injector of its type and combined syringe, needle and insulin bottle in one unit. I worked my way through several upgrades of the Novopen and these days use a combination of a pre-filled disposable pen injector and the last pen injector that I had, a green Novopen 3, which still works in impeccable fashion nearly 20 years on from when I was first given it. Two decades on and I’m so excited to have embarked on another adventure, this time with the relatively new innovation in diabetes care, the Freestyle Libre system for blood glucose monitoring. Whilst I’m not at the forefront of PWDs trialling its use, I have offered to collect data concerning my usage for a research student looking to compare blood glucose monitoring behaviour following the use of the Freestyle Libre, a study that I would hope would encourage some NHS funding for these short-lived sensors which really could revolutionise T1D for many.

To put the last 30 years into context, I worked out some quick statistics of what 3 decades living with T1D has meant for me:

An average of 3-4 BGLs measured a day, sometimes a lot more and sometimes considerably less, adds up to around 43,838 blood sugar tests…
…and assuming equal use, though the truth is anything but, each of my fingers has been pricked nearly 4,500 times.
There’s been in the region of 41,636 injections to keep me healthy…
…most of which have in my thighs, bum and upper arms…
…although, after 25 years of steadfast refusal to consider anywhere else, I now inject almost exclusively in my stomach and have the bruises to prove it!
I’ve been involved in several research projects since almost day 1, including one which resulted in the longer-acting insulin I now use on a daily basis…
…and more medical students, visiting foreign doctors and interested consultants than I care to remember…
…and the involvement of both G and M in current research to investigate a possible genetic marker for T1D.
One amazingly fantastic juvenile T1D consultant, considered to be one of the top men in the diabetes world, around the world…
…and another who I remember joining my team as a junior doctor at our local hospital and who is now a Professor in this field in that same hospital…
..as well as the care of another unrivalled T1D consultant during both my pregnancies to ensure the safe arrival of my babies and my continued health too.
And there have been the inevitable times in hospital, particularly during my emotion-ridden years and fortunately only 1 major complication resulting from my teenage rebellion stage.

A cure may not yet be in sight, but with the amazing developments of the last 100 years, who knows what the next 30 years will bring? jdrf-ndam

*T1D – Type 1 Diabetes **PWD – People With Diabetes

Blind Date with a Book

The Bionic Woman

6 Replies

For the last 6 days Mike has taken to calling me the “bionic woman”. Needless to say, I have not recently had a skydiving accident which has led to bionic modifications to my broken body resulting in amplified hearing, a right arm with the strength of 10 men and the ability to run at speeds over 60mph; in fact, there has been no incident of note and my 1 broken body part, my pancreas, remains well and truly broken. Rather there has been a conscious decision on my part to finally fully embrace a relatively new technological development that I hope will make a significant difference to my diabetes care.

I first became aware of this new bit of kit through M’s school friend, F and his fantastic parents, L and I. I can’t remember quite how we got onto the subject, but I’m reasonably certain that it had something to do with school Sports Day, the challenge of T1D vs. the active child and watching L check his blood sugars simply by waving a black box over his arm. To be fair, M had been ~~wittering on~~ telling me for quite some while about the “white, circular sensor-thingy” attached to F’s arm that enabled him to test his blood glucose levels (BGLs), but the lack of clarity in his description combined with my own lack of relevant knowledge meant that I had absolutely no idea what M was talking about and had dismissed the subject without really giving it a second thought. However, my interest was piqued through that chance encounter on the school field and it led to the opportunity for an enlightening conversation about what this thing was.

The Freestyle Libre (FSL) is marketed as a “flash glucose monitoring system” with a tagline of:

and I was intrigued enough by this to want to find out more and discover whether this might be for me, or not. I read their website, researched on-line for users’ reviews, joined the FB forum for FSL users and wondered if it was too good to be true. I’ll be honest, when I first looked into whether it would be a benefit to me and my T1D care, I loved how easy it appeared to be and, having spoken at length to L and I on more than 1 occasion, could see just how revolutionary it could be, especially for children with T1D. IMG_0131[1] But, and believe me when I say it was quite a big “but”, the sticking point sadly was the price. This type of technology is not available to anyone through the NHS as yet and funding the sensors alone would cost in the region of £100 a month. I know that you cannot put a price on good health, but as a Mum to 2 children with multiple food allergies and an already increased monthly bill due to the high costs of free from food, the challenge of finding that extra £100 each month (£125 extra earned pre-tax) felt quite daunting and I shelved any thoughts of such an investment for the time being.

However, even though the price was making me think twice, I was reluctant to dismiss the option out-of-hand and, given the lengthy UK waiting list, decided to add my name and wait to see what happened in the meantime. The daily events of life with M and G quickly overtook everything else and the FSL soon dropped far down my list of priorities, though it was never far from my thoughts. I’m not exaggerating when I say months passed, but at long last, in January 2016, I saw the message I’d been waiting for: the news that monitors and sensors were once again readily available in the UK and I decided to bite the bullet and order a starter pack to finally see if the FSL’s claims were all true.

IMG_0135[1] The concept is a simple one and reassuringly easy to use. You insert a small sensor with a thin, 5mm needle into the back of your arm and, although the initial instructions for applying it appear quite complex, it really was quick and easy to do. I didn’t find it painful at all and whilst it takes some time to get used to the constant presence of this sensor on my arm, I’ve had no problems with it. The sensor measures what is called the interstitial fluid glucose levels, which are not identical to BGLs as this is the fluid found between the cells, but are considered accurate enough for monitoring what is going on. To find out your BGL, you simply wave the scanner over your arm and it gives you the result almost instantaneously. IMG_0129[1] The sensor continually reads the changes in the glucose levels and, as long as you scan at least once every 8 hours, the easy-to-read graphs given on the screen indicate what has happened during the times you didn’t test. As with most CGM systems (Continuous Glucose Monitoring), it is recommended that the FSL user occasionally uses a standard glucose monitor to test their blood sugars and check that reading to the one given by the FSL – my tests have shown a difference of less than 0.3 mmol, which is incredible.

I can’t begin to tell you how impressed I am with this small device. It really was easy to understand how to use it and the whole family – Mike, G, M and even my Mum – have taken their turn in testing my BGLs for me. Everyday I sit with the scanner amongst the rest of my accountancy paraphernalia in front of me on my desk IMG_0128[1] and am able to discreetly test whenever I want or feel the need. The amount of information available is vast and you can look at enough graphs, bar charts and log books to satisfy even the biggest techno-geek. It has become strangely addictive to do and has already started to give me an even greater understanding of what my T1D is doing than I’ve ever had before. The non-invasive nature of the testing means that it would be easy for a parent to do during the night with no fear of disturbing their child’s sleep, and similarly for Mike to do if he ever feels that my blood sugars are dropping overnight – no need to wake me to ask me if I’m going hypo and then having to survive the often stroppy response his concerns are rewarded with, whether they are or not – yes I am precious about my sleep! I also have no doubt that it would appeal to every tech-savvy under-18 out there, which would no doubt reduce the chances of non-compliance and teen rebellion that so many young T1Ds experience, IMG_0130[1] thereby similarly reducing the risk of complications from poor control. I really can’t speak highly enough of my experience so far with the Freestyle Libre and wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it to every T1D out there. It has been a struggle to find a down-side other than the price, which is due to the £50 sensors needing to be replaced every 14 days. My personal solution to that is to fund 1 sensor a month for the time being, or at least until the point I finally win that elusive lottery jackpot!

12417922_946040332153817_2856366599477784994_n

Can I Eat There?

1 Reply

Over the years, Mike and I have tried to nurture a growing passion for good food in both G and M, very much based on our own love of food, eating out and experiences of a variety of culinary delights from around the world. M has become a real foodie and has never been afraid to try something new, be it oysters at age 4 or E028 at age 9! Whether it’s because of the lengthy presence of T1D in my own life, or due to identifying food allergies in G from an early age, we have never been afraid to go into a restaurant and challenge their menu options to make sure there’s food there that we can all eat and enjoy. Not everyone is as confident in making these demands and I frequently see requests for ideas for safe restaurants in the many FB forums that cover the topic of food allergies. These anxious parents trust the experiences of others in the same shoes and appreciate the advice that is so freely and gladly given; but what do they do when there’s no-one else on-line to share their tips or with the knowledge at their fingertips? Up until recently, the answer was probably to wait it out, especially if they were too nervous to step out of their comfort zone and give somewhere a try, but thanks to a fellow allergy Mum, last March an amazing new website was launched to help the allergy world share their experiences and highlight restaurants that really can cater for food allergies.

Can I Eat There? is the brain child of Nicky Granger, whose young son, Gabriel, lives with 9 severe food allergies. Nicky and her fantastic team, who have an impressive amount of allergy experience between them, have set up a website that gives “…people with food allergies the information they need to make sensible choices about where to eat. Like menus you can filter by allergy. Customer reviews from other people with food allergies. Forums for chatting and sharing experiences and advice. And the opportunity to put your questions and concerns to our expert partners…” – a completely new venture that is unlike anything else I have seen out there and that really answers a growing need.

The premise is simple: the initial search engine on the site allows you to enter your location and then apply any filters you wish from a choice of: allergy, cuisine, rating, dietary or allergy awards, to suit your individual needs. Once these have been selected, the results are brought up, showing all restaurants in your chosen area that meet your requirements. At the most basic level, the restaurants listed will provide information about the restaurant type, the food offered and which food allergies they feel they can cater to. Some will have provided the CIET? team with a more detailed menu as well as full contact details and their website.

What makes this website so fantastic in my opinion, is the ability for users to add their own reviews and experiences of the restaurants listed and give them a star rating for their attitude to catering for food allergies. These reviews are easily accessible under each restaurant’s listing and give the anxious diner an honest review of just how well the restaurant managed to meet someone else’s needs. This really is a unique resource for families living with food allergies and one that I hope will continue to go from strength to strength. The success of the website is, of course, dependent on not only spreading the word that it exists, but also encouraging people to take the time to add their thoughts and reviews about the restaurants they’ve visited, especially if they would recommend them to others or, indeed, warn other food allergy sufferers against going there. Needless to say, as soon as I first heard about CIET?, I contacted Nicky to find out how I could become involved with her new venture and am proud to be one of the allergy ambassadors and partners delighted to be working with CIET? as much as I can. It really is a 5-star website and I wish them every success for the future.