Tag Archives: EGID diagnosis

#NEAW2018: E is for Educate

May 20: E is for Educate

When M was finally diagnosed with EGID 5 years ago, it came at the end of a long, relentless and frustrating battle with the medical profession to have our concerns heard and acknowledged; and not simply be dismissed as over-protective parents; or worse. By the time the diagnosis was actually formalised, I had done a lot of my own reading around the subject and already knew as much about the condition as was readily available online. In the 5 years since that hospital appointment, we have found ourselves continually having to educate those around us, including the medics, who know little to nothing about what is becoming an increasingly controversial diagnosis, especially when it affects the lower GI tract as M’s does.

EoE, or Eosinophilic Oesophagitis, is becoming more widely recognised and the diagnostic criteria for this condition are well established, not least thanks to the continued research of Dr Marc Rothenberg and his team at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. When it comes to the rest of the GI tract however, there opinion is very much divided. There are no clear guidelines as to how any of the other Eosinophilic disorders should be identified and diagnosed; and as the recent documentary about GOSH revealed, there is definitely no consensus on how they are best treated. One of the biggest problems facing children like M is the minimal investment into the research of gastrointestinal disorders and the fact that there is absolutely none into paediatric gastro research. With the credibility of EGID as a “real” chronic illness under debate, consultants all too often veer away from it as a possibility and either move towards a more psychological diagnosis or simply shrug their shoulders and leave these individuals to cope on their own, with little or no regular input.

Whether you want to lay the blame of M’s health issues at the feet of eosinophils, or mast cells, or indeed any other type of white blood cell that could be causing his body to attack itself and react to more foods that you can even begin to imagine, I don’t really mind. I’m not one to hang my hat on labels particularly, especially when that label has no meaning for the greater proportion of the people that M comes into contact with on a day-to-day basis; but I also know that being able to put a name to a problem lends a sense of genuineness to his symptoms as well. As a family we’re not able to walk away from the reality of living with this condition day in and day out because every week we experience the effect of it. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it now and I will no doubt say it many times in the future:

The symptoms that M suffers are very real and can be hugely distressing at times.

M is absolutely your average 12 year-old. He has attitude, he knows it all and he could argue that black is white with the best of them. He loves computer games, fantasy stories and endlessly watching Star Wars or Marvel films. He runs around and is noisy and can drive even a saint up the wall at times. He doesn’t look ill and I’d defy anyone who doesn’t know him to pick him out as the “sick kid” in the line-up. But that’s the face he presents to the outside world and reflects the attitude to his health that Mike and I have worked hard to engender within him.

What you don’t see is the worn out child who can’t move from his bed at times because of the pain and lethargy that accompany a flare-up. You don’t hear the quiet heart-to-hearts late at night, when he’s struggling with yet another reaction and doesn’t understand why it’s happening to him again. You don’t feel the despair that hits hard after another food causes soul-destroying disappointment because it’s clear that he just won’t be able to eat it without problem. And you can’t imagine the heartbreak of seeing the quiet acceptance that he won’t be able to go to a friend’s sleepover or away on school camp because of the possibility of suffering an embarrassing symptom that none of his friends really understand.

That is the truth of life with EGID and that’s the reason we will always endeavour to educate those who come into contact with M as well as the rest of the world in whatever way we can.

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A Brewing Storm

Yesterday a social media storm hit the EGID world, especially for those of us who are, or who have been, under the care of Great Ormond Street Hospital over the last few years. The reason? A story published by The Guardian newspaper on Saturday night, which has raised questions about the treatment of patients of GOSH’s gastro department following a huge number of complaints from parents and successive reviews of care carried out by the RCPCH (Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health) since 2015.

As a parent to a child with an EGID diagnosis and one that was given by GOSH at that, this story is heart-breaking and yet one that I know needs to be told. Whilst M has never been subject to the “aggressive treatment” described in the reports published by The Bureau of Investigative Journalism (see here and here), we have struggled with our own issues rising from some of our experiences during inpatient admissions at GOSH and I have always been open and honest in sharing these via my blog. We have made complaints, challenged M’s consultants and spent time talking to the Chief Exec to try and make sense of it all and improve the way that, not just M, but other children have been treated whilst they’re there.

Last summer I shared my fears about the huge question marks that have been hovering over the EGID diagnosis for a while and how they could impact on the treatment and care that M receives from the medics in our lives. This week my fears grow even greater as the TBIJ documentary investigating these allegations about GOSH will be aired on ITV1 at 10.40pm this Wednesday, April 18th. Whilst I know that the documentary is seeking to reveal the truth behind some of the treatment decisions made for certain families, there will undoubtedly be concerns raised about the veracity of the diagnosis of EGID itself and with that comes inevitable questions about whether any of those diagnosed with EGID are genuinely living with it, or not. Comfortable viewing it may not be, but I will be watching it – and probably keeping my eye on the resulting social media frenzy too.

At the end of the day, I’m not really that bothered about what the label itself actually is for M – EGID, MCAS, food allergies or something else – as all I want is a better life for him and the others who find themselves in the same boat. As I said last year,

“For us, and for the families we’ve got to know who live with it, EGID is a part of our lives that we have to accept and learn to come to terms with, no matter what discussion is being had in the medical world. It might not be clear whether EGID is in itself the final diagnosis, or if it is simply part and parcel of a larger problem that is, as yet, unknown, but it is our reality and it shapes every step that we take.”

*You can read a more in-depth, first-hand commentary about this GOSH story here