Good friends have become a valuable commodity for our family over the years, something I have written about before and no doubt will write about again, but a few events over the last couple of months have made me realise yet again just how important these friendships are to us. In each case, the thoughtfulness of those friends turned what could easily have been difficult experiences into ones that were a little less stressful, something I always appreciate, but most of all at the moment as we deal with new school years, new medical teams and new jobs. Some of these are old friends, people I’ve known since my own school days who still play an important role in our lives, whilst others are those we’ve got to know as G and M build their own relationships with their classmates, but it doesn’t matter how long we’ve known them, they’ve been there to make a difference when it mattered.
The first event was one of the most stressful I’ve had in a long time and even with this wonderful friend stepping in to help out, it was an experience I would have much preferred to do without. My Mum was away enjoying the wonders of Russia, Mike’s parents had flown home to Canada and Mike was back at his work, which is over an hour away from home even when the trains are running in his favour. For once I hadn’t left leaving work to pick up the children from school to the last possible minute and everything seemed to be under control, so naturally that was the point when everything suddenly went horribly wrong. My car wouldn’t start. Not only would it not start, but even with the engine turned off, the electrics seemed to have a mind of their own and the ignition refused to release my key. Even on the best of days this wouldn’t have been a good thing, but poor G had already had to disappear to the school library for an extra hour after school and I was now left with the dilemma of how to get home and get both kids without a car. Thank goodness for a good friend in our village, in the shape of the Mum of one of G’s friends, who kindly agreed to pick up M from his school, send her daughter to rescue G from their school and hold on to them both until either Mike or I was able to take them home. Her calm acceptance of the situation worked wonders on my frazzled nerves – I had by this point already phoned Mike in tears to tell him that not only had my car broken down, but that I was close to breaking down too – and reassured me that there was no need to panic as all I needed to do was get myself safely home. A couple of hours later I’d been rescued by our local garage and I rescued this friend from having to put up with my excitable duo for too much longer. It probably didn’t seem like much to her, I know it’s something I’ve more than willingly done for other Mums in the past, but it really did make a
bad situation a whole lot better and helped dampen my panic down to just concerns about how exactly we would manage without a car at all, given we’ve become a 1 car family over the last 6 months (and yes, I can be something of a “glass half empty” person at times and this was definitely one of them). Fortunately, the problem was nothing more than a flat battery and within 24 hours, it had been replaced and normal service had been resumed.
Fast forward a few days to when one of M’s friends brought a smile to his face with a small gesture that made the world of difference to my currently very sensitive lad. As I’ve mentioned recently, M has a well-stocked swap box in the classroom to ensure that he never has to miss out when his classmates bring sweets or treats into school to celebrate their birthdays. M has
become accustomed to swapping out the sweets for a non-edible treat of his choice, but I know that he misses the days when he used to be able to join in just like his friends and could eat a far wider range of foods. He had already brought home a number of Hero Attack trading cards for other birthdays, but I was met at the gate last week by a small boy
with the biggest smile on his face. This good friend and his thoughtful Mum had remembered that M can safely eat Foxes Glacier mints and so had taken a handful of those in for M, whilst the rest of the class enjoyed another brand of sweets. M was thrilled about being treated just like everyone else, his teacher was pleasantly surprised by this thoughtfulness and I was touched by this small step to include him in the thrill of the celebration.
Finally, we come to a recent Sunday afternoon spent with old friends and their family enjoying the chance to chat, play and share a meal. This is a friendship that has lasted over 25 years and which made them an obvious choice when we were choosing G’s godparents nearly 13 years ago. We arrived early afternoon allowing the children plenty of time to hang out and play together, whilst the adults enjoyed some much-needed catching up of their own. We talked about recent job changes, secondary school decisions and summer holidays as well as the ongoing saga of M’s health and hospital care; and before we knew it, dinner time had arrived. To our surprise, and M’s absolute delight, this wonderful couple had decided to cook a dinner that was completely M-friendly for us all and so we sat down to enjoy chicken kebabs, chicken goujons, rice, cucumber and some delicious applesauce together.
M felt a part of the proceedings in a way that was fantastic to see and when pudding arrived on the table – a safe baked rice pudding with more lashings of the applesauce – he was beyond ecstatic. That simple show of solidarity with our boy was amazing to see and whilst they didn’t think twice about doing it, was a thoughtful gesture that made an impact on us all. M didn’t feel that he was missing out on anything the others was eating and it perhaps gave them a small insight into what he lives with everyday.
As you can see, friendship has many faces and each of them, in their own particular way, makes a difference. I don’t think any one of those individuals thought they were doing anything out of the ordinary or extreme, but without those gestures our life would be far more challenging and a lot less fulfilling and colourful than it is.


Do you remember that long, 











I have to confess to keeping it simple on the big day itself as M had huge ambitions for the day of his party and so a cake-stand full of
Party booked and themed party favours ordered, next came the matter of the cake. For once I decided to learn from previous experiences and didn’t leave decorating the cake to the last moment as I usually do. The prospect of a 2am finish really didn’t appeal, especially if I was battling with creating the perfect bearded dragon cake topper and so planned to start a week earlier, with the hope of finishing at a much more reasonable time the night before. I found some images on-line and, with “Les Miserables” blaring in the background, carefully copied the individual body parts before attempting to put them together. Given Leo’s rather vivid orange skin tones, I chose to make a bright orange dragon and whilst it might not have been the most realistic coloured one, I was thrilled with my crafted copy. I carefully covered and stored it away from peeking eyes, determined that M would be left guessing until the last possible moment.
we decided to hold a small event on Sunday afternoon for G and invited her 2 friends to M’s party in the morning as well as 1 of his to hers in the afternoon. Given it was a very much belated birthday celebration, of course we needed more cake and I decided a batch of
Sunday dawned with the most glorious weather and an anxious countdown to the party starting by M. The 8 boys and 3 girls spent their time racing around our back garden, bouncing on the trampoline and admiring the varied animals that arrived to entertain. M, of course, held all that he was allowed and G beat her fears to hold the tarantula, despite shaking hands and the occasional tear. The cakes were greatly received and M declared my bearded dragon the “best cake ever!”



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!
Today I’m celebrating a very special day, a milestone birthday of a very different kind. Google has revealed that ![IMG_0138[1]](https://7yearstodiagnosis.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/img_01381-e1456250298723.jpg?w=144&h=300)
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 ![IMG_0139[1]](https://7yearstodiagnosis.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/img_01391.jpg?w=300&h=225)

making some special cupcakes to celebrate your 12th birthday tomorrow, cakes to make up for you having to celebrate your last birthday at GOSH with M and without a cake. The ingredients are bought and hiding at the back of the cupboard, so maybe I’ll have the chance to bake them for you for Christmas because instead I’m over 100 miles and 3 hours travel time away from you.
instead we’ll be watching via FaceTime to see what goodies you’ve received with our fingers crossed that our cards have arrived from London in time.
has declared on more than one occasion that she has no plans to learn to drive when she reaches 17, but will instead ride her horse wherever she needs to go. Over the last 18 months or so, she started asking about the possibility of riding lessons again and it was then that my Mum came up with the idea of rewarding all her hard work for her SATs with a short course of lessons.
with confidence and impressed not just her riding instructor, but me too, with her sense of balance and ability to trot round with her hands and arms in every position imaginable except where you’d expect them to be.