Tag Archives: Eosinophilic

#NEAW2018: E is for Engage

May 26: E is for Engage

It’s a late post tonight, much later that I would have hoped, but I’ve been busy helping out with an anniversary celebration for the charity I’m now working for. It’s been a long day, but a fab one and I’m delighted to now be able to bring you my final post for NEAW.

This week has been, as I expected, a quiet week when it’s come to raising awareness of EGID. There were no big fundraising plans, no local radio interview and no article in our local paper. The children didn’t present anything at school this year and I didn’t plait pink ribbon into G’s hair or attach awareness ribbons to their school bags. Mike and I have stuck to our commitment to eat like M for the whole week and that has certainly led to a lot of conversations with my new work colleagues about M’s diagnosis…and how to pronounce “Eosinophilic”!

I’ve written a blog post every day this week which have been read and shared on by you all and whilst the daily posts will finish now this week has come to an end, I will continue to post an insight and an image on my social media channels right up to the end of month. Life might get quieter on the EGID front for most of you, but please remember that it will continue to be a permanent and unavoidable fixture in M’s everyday.

Thank you for engaging with us this week; for walking part of our journey alongside us and all I ask is that you keep helping us fight the battle to raise awareness of it.

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#NEAW2018: T is for Thank

May 25: T is for Thank

To everyone who has supported us over the years. To those who have provided listening ears, shoulders to lean on and helped wiped away tears. To friends who have given time, energy, a chance to get away from it all and, most importantly, a large drink when it’s most been needed. To the communities that have walked each step of the journey with us, whether local, worldwide or virtual. To those who have been part of the blogging process over the last 5 years and continue to read my posts and share them on.

To our family and friends. To our wonderful children. To Mike.

Thank you xxx

#NEAW2018: A is for Awareness

May 24: A is for Awareness

Today is all about raising awareness for EGID. At home we’ve been working on putting together a presentation for the end of June, when G and M will be introducing Over The Wall at their performing arts’ school’s end of year fundraising concert. We are, as so many others around the world, huge fans of the 2017 smash hit and all round wonderful film “The Greatest Showman” and the song “This is Me” had a particular resonance for the whole family. M and I chose this track to be the backing track for their OTW Powerpoint presentation and I decided to adapt what I’d already made for this year’s NEAW to raise more awareness.

#NEAW2018: C is for Change

May 23: C is for Change

The dictionary defines change as “to make or become different” or “an act or process through which something becomes different“, but what does that really mean in the context of raising awareness about a rare disease?

There are so many things that need changing when it comes to EGID, some of which we can actively work towards achieving and others which can be nothing more than a pipedream at the moment. Educating others about what EGID is and how it affects those diagnosed with it will hopefully bring about a change in attitude in both the community surrounding M and the wider medical profession. Even though this often feels like an uphill battle, it is an achievable target and something we should all keep working towards, chipping away slowly at the seemingly indestructible walls that surround EGID as a valid diagnosis. Those changes in attitude will help M feel less isolated by his health problems and more confident in being the unique individual he is despite his EGID and not because of it.

The 12-year road we’ve travelled since M was born has seen many changes and there is no question that there will be many more to be traversed as he grows towards adulthood. He’s gone from an active, can-eat-everything toddler, through a stage of being a tube-fed child taking 13 medicines multiple times a day to now being a tween eating 9 foods on a regular basis, taking 4 medicines plus a multi-vitamin each day and thriving. The next few years of teenagedom will undoubtedly bring a myriad of changes to be navigated, mostly thanks to those pesky hormones, and which will hit us in ways we can’t even begin to imagine. Who knows how treatments and medical breakthroughs will change as he gets older and the best change we can hope for is that his doctors will find a way to improve his quality of life beyond our wildest expectations.

What are the changes that M would most love to see happen?

  • To be eating as “normally” as possible. What he wants when he wants and with no repercussions at all
  • To be able to go without all of his medicines, especially the E028 drink, and not worry that a reaction could be just around the corner
  • And to not feel different, or alone, or set apart from his friends because of a condition that he can’t predict or control, but can just manage as best he can

What I want is not really a change at all. I want him and G to remember that they are able to live life to its fullest, loving and embracing every moment of it and grasping every opportunity that comes their way and making the most of them all.

#NEAW2018: U is for Unite

May 22: U is for Unite

Over the years, our primary focus for “unite” has been on spending the week, or a part thereof, “Eating like M“. Mike and I are embracing it fully again this year, much to M’s delight, but I have to wonder whether following his restricted diet for 7 days really does enough to show him that we’re standing in unity alongside him. A natural consequence of our choice is that those we work and spend time with during this week will inevitably ask questions, which obviously gives us both a great opportunity to talk about EGID and start to educate the uninitiated, but I keep returning to the question of whether M truly feels a benefit from us standing shoulder to shoulder with him for such a short time.

Of course, the truth is that, for us, every day living with EGID, even though we are not living with the diagnosis and reality of it ourselves, is a day spent supporting M through what has been some of the toughest times he’s had to face in his 12 years. We have lived through and survived the most difficult challenges, but we are still not really living in unison with him. My 30+ years of living with my own chronic illness, Type 1 diabetes, means that I do perhaps have more of an idea of the experiences and angst that he faces each day than others and I know that that truth has brought M some comfort in his darkest moments. I can’t make EGID disappear, or allow him to eat completely normally once again – or, at least, not without some pretty catastrophic reactions that would take their toll and require a huge amount of time to recover from – but I can offer a level of understanding and empathy to him, along with an ever-ready cuddle, kiss and encouraging words from Mum, which may or may not be gratefully received depending on the occasion.

This week, social media, and Facebook in particular, is swamped with the CURED banner for NEAW, which promotes worldwide unity in the EGID community, with all of those living with EGID holding hands and pulling together to seek a cure. It is an image that has resonated with me, especially given the ongoing tumultuous relationship between EGID and the medical profession here in the UK.  Despite M’s objections to the word CURED (which actually stands for the Campaign Urging Research for Eosinophilic Disease) because, as he rightly points out, “…there isn’t a cure yet for EGID and this makes it seem as if there is…“, he too is a fan of the sense of inclusion rather than isolation that is reflected in the words. The realisation that EGID affects others just like him across the world is sinking in and we all find some comfort in the truth that other countries are investing in the area of gastro research, which includes seeking a deeper understanding about EGID and how it works.

Whether its eating like M this week, or sharing the same meals with him at different times throughout the year; supporting M when life isn’t going as smoothly as it could, or cheering him on when he’s talking EGID to those around him; or actively helping both him and G when they’re fundraising for the charities that have worked tirelessly to support them over the years, all of it is standing in unison with M during NEAW and for the rest of the year. Because unity is not just for a day or a week or even a year, but it’s for a lifetime and it’s a commitment I’m willing to make to the EGID community, not just to him.

The question is, are you?

#NEAW2018: D is for Donate

May 21: D is for Donate

There’s nothing I hate more than spotting a charity canvasser on the street and I’ll happily confess that I instantly become one of those individuals who speed up and drop my eyes down to avoid drawing too much attention to myself if I can help it. It’s not that I’m not prepared to donate to charity – oh how ironic this post would be if I was – but I am definitely not a fan of being pressured to sign up to an ongoing commitment to any one charity whilst out and about doing other things. Part of my problem is that I hate to say no to people and always end up feeling very disingenuous as well as guilty when I come up with a reason why I don’t want to set up a regular donation on the spot.

A cash donation can help, of course it can, but these days I don’t really know what charity to suggest when it comes specifically to making a financial contribution to support those diagnosed with EGID. There are no charities in the UK currently working on research into gastro conditions and few investing time and energy into supporting families living with the consequences of this challenging diagnosis. As long as gastrointestinal disease remains the “poor” cousin to so many other life-impacting conditions, there is little chance of much progress when it comes to finding ways to improve the day-to-day life of those living with it.

However, donation is about much more than just the money. Your time, your care and your support can make an incredible difference to a family living with chronic illness and the impact should never be underestimated. When someone takes 5 minutes to ask how M is doing, and, even more importantly, asking how G and the rest of the family are too, that effort is priceless. At the moment, we seem to be a state of status quo with M’s health which is fantastic, but there is also a sense of overwhelming ennui when it comes to our ongoing relationship with our local hospital and M’s gastro consultant. Taking the time to talk to me about life apart from M’s EGID makes a big difference and should never be seen as inconsequential. We teach M constantly that there is so much more to life than his illness and it’s important that we hold on to that truth and don’t get bogged down in the mundane.

There are, of course, a million and one charities who need financial support and it’s a challenge to choose the cause that’s not only closest to our hearts, but needs that money the most. This year we’re not actively fundraising as part of NEAW, mostly because I only changed jobs a month ago and haven’t found the time to be more organised, but thanks to M’s bold cheek, we have a small fundraiser planned for the end of June. Last year, he asked the founder of their Saturday dance school if this year’s end of year concert could be a fundraiser for the amazing Over The Wall charity and he and G are now working hard on their presentation to introduce the evening. M is thrilled to be attending an OTW Health Challenges camp again this summer and we continue to be extremely grateful for the care, support and opportunities they have given both children. Both OTW and my new role with our local air ambulance have shown me so clearly that whilst the money is important and enables both charities to continue doing their fantastic work, volunteering with them has equal value. At work our volunteers are an integral part of our workforce and the truth is, quite simply, that their daily contribution to the running of the charity cannot and should not ever be underestimated.

#NEAW2018: This is where it begins!

Over the last few years since we received M’s diagnosis of an Eosinophilic Gastro-Intestinal Disorder (EGID), I’ve approached National Eosinophil Awareness Week (NEAW) in a myriad of different ways. As NEAW 2018 has been approaching, I’ve been racking my brain trying to decide on the best way to talk about EGID for another year. I started posting my daily insights via my social media channels at the beginning of May, trying to highlight each day a different aspect of life with EGID along with a photo or image that captures the sentiment as best I can; we will almost inevitably spend the week “eating like M” again, though Mike might find that more of a challenge than me as he will be away on business for at least a small part of this week; and I will be attempting to post daily blogs during the week itself, sharing just a little of what our journey with EGID is really like.

In the past I’ve tried to come up with different ways to present my week’s worth of daily blogs, but with having just changed jobs and a busy few months at home, this year I decided to fall back on the format I chose 3 years ago and follow the NEAW theme itself, using the word E-D-U-C-A-T-E as illustrated above to inspire my posts each day.

And, as always, all that I ask is that you bear with me for the week ahead and read as many of the posts as you can. If you can also share them on to help spread the word about EGID, then you’ll be supporting families like ours and those of so many we know to raise awareness as much as we possibly can. The message is get out is that we’re working together, across the world, to make a difference and hopefully working towards finding a cure.

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

Perfect Faces for Radio

Looking back this evening at some of the photos taking up the precious memory that’s left on my phone, I’ve realised that there have been so many things that I haven’t quite got round to sharing with my blog. As you’ll have noticed, my foray back into the world of full-time work after being made redundant almost a year ago has meant that I just don’t have the time to dedicate to writing 2 or more blog posts a week, but I still want to share many of our recent experiences and so the updates may take just a little longer to arrive on your screens than before.

The first looks back to May, when every year we mark National Eosinophil Awareness Week and for the last 4 years, a big part of my campaign to raise awareness has involved live appearances on our local BBC radio station, talking all things EGID and answering questions surrounding the inevitable interest about M’s extremely restricted diet. Whilst it is always a challenge to think on my feet and answer questions without any prior warning about what the presenter might ask, I relish the opportunity to spend 20 minutes speaking about EGID and what it means to our family to live with it day in, day out to those listening within our regional broadcast area. I have spent 5 years being extremely grateful to those within the EGID community who have been honest about their experiences and take the time to support those who are newly diagnosed and often looking for an understanding that the medical community jut can’t offer. Sharing our story, both through my blog on a regular basis and through these occasional newspaper articles and radio appearances, are my way of giving something back to our EGID family, new members and old.

This year I wanted to change the dynamics of that radio interview if I could and so asked if I could bring G and M along to our local BBC studio to talk about what living with EGID means to them. The radio presenter and his team were more than happy to agree and so it was that on one rather glorious Monday morning, I found myself heading into town with an excited M and somewhat apprehensive G in tow. They had slight nerves that they didn’t know in advance what questions might be asked, but M had sought advice from his Stagecoach drama teacher the previous week and was confident that he knew how to develop his responses to any closed answer questions to avoid giving one word answers. I’ll be honest, I did have some concerns about both children speaking live on local radio: I wasn’t convinced that G would break from her current monosyllabic, teen state and had absolutely no idea what might come out of M’s mouth at any moment. In both cases, I would be hard pushed to exert any sort of control over them once we were on air, except by thoroughly preparing them on our car journey there and then reminding them of my expectations through meaningful glances and subtle eyebrow raises across the microphones!

To my delight, both children were absolute stars and whilst, unsurprisingly, M took to the experience like a duck to water, even G found her confidence to answer some of the questions and we had only one awkward silence to contend with during the 20+ minutes of our appearance. The children spoke clearly and slowly to make sure they could be understood and took their time to give well-thought out answers without leaving the listeners waiting for the dead air to be filled. They both loved every moment of it and have expressed an interest in finding out more about possible future careers that would see them working for the BBC, though G was fascinated by the research being done for the different news programmes and M has a yearning to explore the life of a TV camera man. My big thanks go to our local radio station who were prepared to take a chance on interviewing G and M live on air and for giving us, yet again, the opportunity to spread the word about EGID far and wide.

Bitter disappointment

Two years ago, M and I waved goodbye to G as she trekked off on the adventure that is Year 6 Camp and, as he had his NG-tube in place, we chatted about whether Year 6 camp was a possibility for him. I reassured him that Mike and I were both keen for him to go and would work hard with the school to ensure that his every need – medical, dietary or otherwise – was met as he needed, whether the feeding tube was still in place or not. Despite never having spent a night away from family, M wanted to go, to try out new activities and to challenge himself as opportunity offered.

One year ago, as I manoeuvred M’s wheelchair through the back gates of school and across the school field to his classroom, we breathed a sigh of relief that it was during Year 5 that he had spectacularly broken his left leg and not in the weeks leading up to the Year 6 camp. The slow reintroduction of foods following the removal of his feeding tube would not hold him back and once again I found myself reassuring him that, if needs be, I would bake a batch of M-friendly cakes or cookies to accompany him on the trip and that we would ensure that the camp kitchen could safely cater for whatever his food requirements were when he went. His week away at Over The Wall built his self-confidence as he realised that he could tackle anything he put his mind to and succeed.

For the last 2 years, M has been looking forward to this rite of passage, this week of school camp and practically counting down the days until it was finally his time to go. He has been in discussion with G about the different activities he might get to do and planning all that he would need to make the week the success he so desperately wanted it to be. I met with the school to talk over the arrangements for meal-times and sleep that would need to be in place and was confident that they would do everything in their power to make it a week to remember for him and all his class-mates.

And then 2 weeks ago, M had to make what has been, without a doubt, one of the hardest decisions in his life so far. The past 4 months of food challenges have taken their toll and when that was added to the stresses of SATS, we saw an unwelcome decline in his health that we weren’t sure could be overcome easily. Despite our best efforts and hard work since mid-May, M has decided that going away to Year 6 camp is not the right thing for him to do at the moment. To say that my boy is bitterly disappointed would be an understatement. For 2 years of longing and planning to come to nothing is heartbreaking for us all and has been a bitter pill to swallow. For M, life has just seemed incredibly unfair once again.

M is frustrated that he can’t go, but he has based his decisions on the health struggles he is currently facing and knows that ultimately it is the right choice for him. He has tried to remain cheerful in school and has been an active participant in the tasks set to his class as they have researched where they’re going and what they’ll be doing. Mike and I met with his teachers and arranged for Mike to take him to the camp today for a half-day*, so that he can join in an activity of his choice and not feel that he is missing out completely. What has made it even harder to bear is that he currently doesn’t have a place on this year’s OTW Health Challenges Camp and is instead on the waiting list, with his fingers tightly crossed that a place might become unexpectedly available.

I know that in the long-run, M will pick himself up and dust himself off and keep going, just as he always does, but it’s hard to comfort him when he’s railing against just how unfair life can be because, in all honesty, right now I agree with him and it’s hard to find the positive and that silver lining we so desperately need to cling to.

*I’m delighted to share that today’s morning has turned into a full day at camp with his friends. M enjoyed the mud assault course so much that he felt confident to stay on and try his hand at abseiling and anything else he could find the time to do.