Tag Archives: Great Ormond Street Hospital

“Run, run as fast as you can…”

“…you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”

To be perfectly honest, the last couple of months have been challenging ones. When we made the decision last year to move M to the elemental diet, we did so hoping that it would be the answer we were looking for and that he would finally find some relief from the years of chronic pain and constant bowel problems he’d barely been surviving. The great news is that his symptoms improved dramatically and for the first time in a long-time, M felt healthier and happier than ever before. However, despite the best hopes of GOSH that his NG-tube would only be needed for 2 or 3 months, Mike and I held the opinion that it would more realistically be in place for at least a year, if not longer, and we are rapidly moving closer to that 12-month mark. Of course, what none of us had anticipated was the struggle we would have in reintroducing foods back into M’s diet and over recent weeks, he has found the constant disappointment of failed food trials and the frustration of not being able to eat the same as everyone else almost unbearable to live with. With the agreement of our amazingly supportive dietician, we decided to take an extended break from the challenges, allowing M some much-needed time to come to terms with the realities of life right now.

shutterstock_190648280Having had that much-needed rest, M started to lose that haunted look that had been plaguing him for a few weeks and we finally seemed to have turned the corner and be back on track. We agreed on a new short list of foods to challenge in the run up to Christmas and had finally restarted where we had left off, more or less. However, last weekend, with another 3 unsuccessful attempts at reintroductions to chalk up to experience, tensions started to build and emotions threatened to overwhelm the tenuous calm that had just begun to settle. The final straw broke when G asked Mike and me to taste and review her cupcakes for her Food and Textiles homework. With hot, angry tears cascading down his cheeks, M crawled on to my lap to fitfully confide that it “just wasn’t fair” that everyone else could eat cakes when he couldn’t. Gently stroking his back, I offered to whip up a batch of one of the few sweet treat recipes I’ve managed to adapt for him in the last 12 months: Rice krispie treats? Cupcakes? Scones? Sugar cookies? Nothing seemed to quite hit the necessary mark, so I put my thinking cap on, did a little research and came up with the perfect pre-Christmas treat – Gingerbread!

Thanks to a few sneaky “mini” challenges, we have been able to add some extra flavourings to M’s diet and the most recent success was the addition of ginger to the humble pear crumble, so gingerbread seemed to be the logical next step. I started pulling the ingredients from the cupboards and, 20151121_162110as I weighed and measured out everything I needed, M’s interest was piqued and he pulled up the step-stool to stand by my side and help out. He rolled up his sleeves, washed and then floured his hands and, having selected an interesting array of cookie cutters, brandished my trusty rolling-pin to roll out the gingerbread dough on my pastry board. He chose to use the Christmas cutters as well as the odd one or two Mr Men ones, which have survived from my childhood and spent hours planning out to most effectively cut the shapes from the dough in front of him. We ended up with an impressive batch and I am heartily assured by my trustworthy taste-testers that they more than fit the brief and hit the mark!

That’s what friends are for

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been focusing my blog on new recipes, holiday travels and weekend adventures, but of course, in the background of all that, there have been the ongoing food challenges, unavoidable medical dramas and inevitable hospital appointments that are very much part of our everyday life. Those are the bits that take a little longer to process as we adjust our expectations and plans for the coming months, and understandably are not always the easiest parts to share. However, whilst we’re picking our way through the discussions of our latest appointment, I wanted to share this story with you all.

You see, our most recent GOSH appointment was declared “…the best hospital appointment EVER!..” by M for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with what his consultant or dietician said, discussed or did; and absolutely indexeverything to do with some amazing friends he has met and made since our journey to a diagnosis started over 4 years ago.

We arrived an hour early for our clinic appointment, something that is nothing short of a miracle given the comedy of errors that unfolded as Mike attempted to connect with M and me mid-route as we headed into London by train. Let’s just say that realising your wife and child are not on the train you’ve just boarded and which is now leaving the station, but instead the one that’s just pulling into that self-same station behind you, probably doesn’t rank very highly in Mike’s top ten of successful travel arrangements, but we did eventually meet up and safely got to the hospital with plenty of time to spare! I knew that good friend and fellow EGID Mum, R was also there with her son, A, who has become great buddies with M since we were in GOSH last Christmas and had already tentatively arranged an attempt to meet up if at all possible. As we trundled through to the waiting room, I spotted R across the room and to my delight saw she was chatting with another old FABED friend of M’s and his Mum, L.

These 3 boys were thrilled to all be at clinic together and spent the next couple of hours sharing their electronic devices, playing games and laughing. Being in clinic with 2 good friends helped occupy M’s time and the lengthy wait just flew past as they entertained each other and we parents took the opportunity to do some catching up of our own. All 3 are on extremely restricted diets and represent beautifully the 3 different faces of elemental feeds: A who bravely drinks his daily; M with his NG-tube; and R with his PEG. It was wonderful to see, especially as all 3 were looking fit, well and really no different to other boys of their age. They looked as 3 friends should do: relaxed, happy and comfortable in each other’s presence.developing-friendship-machines-working-word-building-up-concept-construction-black-alphabetic-letters-forming-isolated-31326540

I’ll be honest, as amazing as it was to watch these 3 lads pick up where they had left off, after however long it has been, without missing a beat, it was also heart-wrenching to see them spending time together in the hospital waiting room, knowing that the reason they were there was a chronic illness that has had a long-reaching impact on each of their young lives. But; in that most perfect of moments for them all as they sat united on the waiting room floor, we also realised just how blessed we are to know such amazing people and how important it is for M to believe that he’s not on his own.

More than a smile

It all started with a simple compliment that was probably given without too much thought, almost a throw-away comment, but the words, planned or not, had a profound effect months ago and still do. I had walked M and G to school after a particularly difficult night with M,  following on from a couple of really tough days and I was tired and emotional as I left the school grounds. Passing their Head at the gates, I gave a small smile, a nod of my head and a quick reply to his question about how M was feeling. His next words stopped me in my tracks and even now continue to resonate in my memory, especially when things are feeling a little more challenging or tiring than normal:

“I just wanted to say that I admire your constant smile and upbeat attitude about everything. Your positivity is reflected in the way both children deal with whatever’s thrown at them in the classroom and in life.”

My garbled response was a variation of my stock answer:

“What else can I do, but smile? If I didn’t I might end up crying, but that won’t help M or G or me; and it won’t change the way things are…” (I shrugged) “…besides, if I don’t smile and get on with things, who else will? That’s my job as Mum.”

That might be true. but I know a lot of people who wouldn’t be able to smile about it. They’d feel hard done by and resentful of the hand they’ve been dealt, their response would be focussed on complaining – that simply isn’t you or the children.”

I don’t know if the exhaustion of a failed food trial and a bad night’s sleep had made me more sensitive to the world around me, but his words had an impact that I felt resonating deep in my soul and gave a lightness to my step that certainly hadn’t been there 10 minutes earlier. All the way home, with unexpected tears in my eyes, 11987081_10153905230214523_3086822525667980358_nI pondered what he had said to me. After all, am I really that unusual in my response? I don’t feel particularly unique in my attitude and, believe me, I can certainly have a moan with the best of them. I suddenly had reason to reflect on how I present our situation to the outside world and why I smile, even at the most difficult of times.

I smile because, despite everything – the difficult pregnancy, the premature birth, the EGID diagnosis and the decision to tube-feed – I have a lot to celebrate. I have 2 amazing, beautiful, cheeky, intelligent children, my children with super powers, who astound me regularly with their unexpected insights into the world and make me smile. Whilst I might not be able to say truthfully that they are both “happy and healthy”, the wish of every new parent as they await the arrival of their latest addition, they are growing into young people I am proud to say are mine and fascinating individuals in their own right. They might have their struggles to manage, but they are here with me and every day with them is one more opportunity to cuddle, to kiss and to share their lives. As a family we have a lot of fun and there’s always a reason to have a giggle, laugh out loud and just smile together, even at the darkest moments.

Of course the truth is that, in many ways, my smile is also much, much more than a reflection of the joy I feel when spending time with my nearest and dearest. It is also my most effective disguise. If you look hard enough, there will be times when you might notice that the smile doesn’t quite reach my eyes or that my smile is perhaps a little bittersweet. Those are the days when it’s been hard to fight the urge to crawl back under the covers and pull the duvet over my head. The days when getting up, getting dressed and just being is a massive success.12049331_865332913546071_5149015929277272601_n The days when it’s been hard work to put one foot in front of the other and not just get started, but keep going too.

And I’m not alone. Out there in the real world are a huge number of parents who are facing the same struggles, fighting similar battles and often surviving a reality that is far harder than the one we face each day. I have been privileged to meet and get to know some of these superhero parents through our shared experiences and I see that same positive and undeniably brave approach to life reflected in each and every one of them. They are often the parents who just a tiny bit more weary at the school gates, a little more contemplative at the end of each day and a lot more determined to make the most of every moment they have because they know just how precious those minutes are. They will be the ones who will shrug off your questions about their well-being and turn the focus firmly back to you and yours. Not because they don’t want to answer, but because they know that if their emotional floodgates are opened, it will cause a tidal wave that will engulf them and make keeping their heads above water just a smidgen harder to do. And they will be the parents that tell you they don’t consider themselves particularly special or outstanding or unique because this is their life, they know they can’t change it or their children and nor would they want to. M might end up being the cause of many more grey hairs than I’m ever going to admit to, but I wouldn’t have him any other way; he wouldn’t be him any other way; and those parents’ love for their children transcends the unexpected difficulties they’ve been presented with.

I want to finish with a beautiful thought that a friend shared on FB when we were reflecting on this thought-provoking blog post and our own life experiences as special needs parents:

“That’s the thing…we weren’t given these special children because we are special, they make us that way with how amazing they are.”

superhero

The Start of a New School Year

In barely the blink of an eye, the summer holidays have disappeared amidst a blur of activities, work and holidays and as we say hello to October and the occasional pumpkin spice latte, we’ve already put the first month of the new school year behind us. This year September has been a little different to most with G moving up to her secondary school and M heading into Year 5 and all the new responsibilities that have accompanied both those events. It’s been a month of mixed emotions as the realisation that my babies are no longer that has hit. They’re growing up fast and whilst it’s been wonderful to see them stepping out with a new-found confidence, there’s been the inevitable tug on my heartstrings as I’ve realised that we’ve moved on to the next stage of parenting, especially when it comes to our little Miss.10865938_887210898036761_1768009436261476122_o

For G, she seems to has quite literally grown up over the summer holidays and now stands a good 2 inches or so taller than her closest friend, whilst developing a new sense of independence too. Every morning I drop her at the local corner shop, where she meets up with a couple of friends for the walk to school. They leave laughing and chatting and seem to pick up various classmates and friends along the way. She’s loving all that her secondary school has to offer, even the drip-feed of homework on a regular basis and is fast learning the importance of being organised and keeping track of her things when there’s no peg or drawer in which to abandon her belongings. Every afternoon she meets M and me at our agreed meeting place, strategically positioned between the 2 schools and is keen to find out how M’s day has been as well as sharing parts of her own.

9781408847558And every evening, once she’s tackled her homework and played outside with M, G spends time helping prepare her packed lunch for the next day and chats away with either Mike or me in the kitchen, giving us precious insights into how things are going as we prepare M’s feed or dinner or sometimes both. Some evenings she’s tired and emotional and a little worn down by the events and demands of the day, but on others she’s buzzing with excitement about what she has learned and the things she has done. I’m so proud that she’s choosing to tackle some of the extended assignments she’s been given in class and her latest effort, to write about why she’d like to have lunch with author, Huw Powell, reaped a much-deserved reward at the start of the week when she and 5 other pupils were selected to actually have lunch with the author himself. It’s wonderful to see her blossom so much in her new environment and I can’t wait to see what the year ahead has in store for her.

M has similarly settled well into his new class and is enjoying being back at school, although he’s not such a fan of the increased homework load that Year 5 has brought with it. He struggled on his first day back, sorely missing G’s reassuring presence at the Junior school with him, but he has soon got used to the new reality and looks forward to meeting up with her every day after school. 9781426755514Despite the hopes and original plans of our gastro team at GOSH, M’s NG-tube is still in place and seems likely to be so for the foreseeable future. His friends continue to take it fully in their stride and are happy to help him remember to bring his feeding pump home at the end of each day, something he still struggles to do even after 9 months of having it in place. We’re not 100% sure of all the challenges that this next school year will bring for M in terms of his health, but we know without doubt that there will be some and are glad to still have our wonderful school and staff supporting him each step of the way.

It takes a village

village

Do you know that quote?  There’s a chance you might associate it with American presidential hopeful, Hillary Clinton and her 1996 book of the same title, but in fact it comes from an Igbo and Yoruba (Nigeria) proverb and has a sentiment that is echoed by numerous other African sayings.  It recognises the great value of having community involvement in a child’s upbringing, not just for the child and immediate family, but for the extended family and local community too.  As I have mentioned so many times before, we are incredibly fortunate to have an amazing community surrounding us, who are unbelievably supportive, and none more so than our fantastic village school.

Since day one, when G first headed in through their gates, we knew that this was a place that would offer our children not just a great education, but also a safe and secure place to grow and develop, all within walking distance of our home.  The children have had the opportunity to build strong friendships with others living nearby that will hopefully continue into their teenage years and beyond.  In the 2 years that M has been there, we’ve seen time and time again just how invaluable the school community is, not just to M, but to G and to Mike and me too. The impact of M’s ever-changing health has been particularly profound in the last couple of years and there is no doubt in my mind that the unfailing support of their school has been a steadying force for us all.

Without the readiness of the Head and other key members of staff to accommodate M and all his needs, we would have struggled to keep his education a priority this year and I doubt I would have been able to continue working.  Their willingness to have M in school as normal and to learn the intricacies of his NG-tube and feeding regime has allowed me to stay in my job, confident in the fact that this is a group of people dedicated to including M in every planned activity and who have taken on that intense in loco parentis responsibility without a second thought. This year in particular has tested their mettle with the demands of not just feeding tubes and complex allergy requirements, but of occupational therapy, dyspraxia and dyslexia added to the mix too.  His teacher, Mrs M, has been amazing and she approaches every new challenge with great positivity and an unparalleled sense of humour. www.amazon.comEven the minor hiccups encountered along the way – non-stop beeping, blocked tubes, leaking pumps and soaking wet clothes to name but a few – haven’t derailed her and that attitude has helped M cope remarkably well with all the changes this year has thrown at him.  I cannot thank her enough for being the rock that M has needed during school hours.

Equally, Miss K, G’s lovely Year 6 teacher has been a real blessing to us as a family and to G in particular.  She has encouraged G every step of the way and helped build her confidence throughout the year.  M’s hospital stay in December was difficult for G as he and I disappeared off to London for 2 weeks and couldn’t be around to help celebrate her 11th birthday or enjoy the end of term build-up to Christmas.  What made a big difference was Miss K, who was fully aware of all that was going on, made herself available to G whenever necessary, understood that emotions were high and made allowances when needed, and stayed in regular e-mail contact with me during our stay and also during the Christmas holidays, so she was as prepared for where things stood with M as the rest of us.  She is moving on from the school at the end of this term and I, for one, will miss her, especially as I was hoping she would be M’s teacher for his Year 6 year.

It’s not just the teaching staff who have done their utmost to give us the support we depend on, but the parents and children too and this past week I was left speechless by the thoughtfulness and compassion of M’s class.  Following his presentation during EGID awareness week, this group of enthusiastic 9 year-olds discussed different ways they could support him and focused their attention on the fact that he has to wear a backpack all morning, which contains his pump and his “food”. This is what happened next:

“We decided, as a class, that we would all wear a backpack for a morning so that we are able to understand a little of what M has to go through each day. Therefore, on Friday 10th July, it would be great if all of 4M could wear their backpack to school and keep it on for the whole morning!  If you can make it weigh about 2 and a half kilograms that will be amazing as that is the weight that M carries around each day.”

20150710_111650On Friday I had the privilege of going into school to see this amazing group plus teacher and teaching assistants with their backpacks on and to express my thanks, not just to the children, but to Mrs M and the school for encouraging and allowing them to show their support in this tangible way. His classmates have adapted well to M’s tube and accept it as an essential part of him.  They’ve asked questions and been interested in the whys and wherefores about it and then just forgotten all about it and carried on with day-to-day life, which is exactly what M has needed.

There have also been shows of support from parents, including one from a Mum I’d never met before and doubt I’d recognise again.  We were travelling back home late from our last GOSH appointment after a long, hot day in London and arrived back at our local train station.  As we reached the stairs of the railway bridge, I became aware of a fellow passenger catching up with us and smiled with her as she chuckled at the inane chatterings of my night-owl.  I paused to let her go past, but she slowed her pace to match mine and started an unexpected conversation:

“I just wanted to tell you that my children are at the same school as your son and came home and told us all about his presentation. They both raved about how amazing it was and how much they had learned from watching it and asking him questions.  I just wanted to tell you how impressed they both were, especially as they now understand a little more of what he’s having to cope with and we all think he’s incredibly brave.”

The conversation carried on until we reached our cars and said a quiet good-night. This for me is the advantage of having not just a child who stands out from the crowd because of his tube,Colorful solidarity design tree but also a community who is brave enough to have the confidence to speak out words of encouragement to a near-stranger because of a shared experience and the desire to add their voice to offer support.

From helping take G to school early in the morning to having my tubie home for tea; and from working hard with M to improve his handwriting to encouraging G to reach her potential and aim for the stars, our school, its outstanding teachers and the families who go there have helped us out along the way. This academic year has been a tough one, but we’ve survived all the bumps in the road with the loving support of the truly exceptional community that we live in.

Perfect pancakes

During our recent GOSH appointment, the conversation naturally turned to the food I’m cooking for M these days and how we could continue to vary the options available to him with such limited ingredients. The subject had turned to our plans to introduce white fish and whether there were any M-friendly free-from fishfingers on the market, which there aren’t. I was just saying that I had perfected a rice-flour tempura batter, which would be ideal for making fish bites, when M, without looking up from the handheld computer device he was engrossed by, piped up to inform them that “…Mummy cooks me chicken nuggets and deep-fried rice-balls and flatbreads and pancakes…” before carrying on with his game. The conversation paused briefly as the dietician took note and then carried on from there, but it made me realise that I had never shared my rice-flour pancake recipe and I vowed to change that as soon as I could.

20141007_173343Pancakes are one of those recipes that I attempted very early on in our free-from journey and are still a family favourite 4 years on. I make the big, fluffy ones most associated with North America and use the batter as a basis for other savoury treats such as corn or courgette fritters. The basic recipe contains very few ingredients and proved easy to convert to the updated M-friendly version that you can find here. I flavour them with a variety of green herbs and they form a tasty accompaniment to any meal, enjoyed by the whole family, not just M and I even cooked them recently when he had a friend round for tea, where they proved to be a hit.

One of the best things about these pancakes, other than how quickly you can whip up a batch, is just how versatile they can be. With a few careful choices about flavours, they can be either savoury or sweet and both have proved popular with M. They will also form the perfect platform for our mini-challenges on spices and flavourings over the coming weeks, which I know M can’t wait to try.

Quick update

Stocks-Update-1With 2 weeks left to the end of term, there’s so much going on that I’ve barely got time to sit down and commit any useful thoughts to paper, so I’m afraid this post is just going to be a quick update.  We’ve just had our first appointment in the new “Complex gastro and nutrition” clinic that our consultant and lovely specialist dietician have started at GOSH.  The thinking behind this new clinic is that for children like M, who have a chronic gastro condition such as EGID as well as significant, complex and multiple food allergies, there needs to be regular meetings with both a gastro consultant and a dietician to ensure that everyone is singing from the same song sheet when it comes to treating the health of that child.

Hospital appointments always induce mild nerves in me, but this time round I felt more apprehensive than usual.  We are now into month 8 of the NG-tube, when the initial plans were that M would have it for no more than 3 months at most and I was concerned that there might be discussion about removing the tube in the near future.  M’s health has been so significantly improved since we went elemental in December that I don’t want to rock the boat any more than is necessary until we have a huge improvement with his diet.  generic round label_1265358343With only 4 foods on our “safe” list out of 12 tried so far, it has been a much longer process to reintroduce foods back than any of the medics expected, although, to be honest, Mike and I had always anticipated it taking a full year, if not longer.  At the moment, M is coping well with his tube and is keen to keep trying new foods, so there are no concerns that the presence of the tube is having a detrimental effect on him in any way.

So, in a snapshot, the outcome of our appointment was this:  that on almost every level, his health is remarkably stable right now and even his hay fever isn’t causing too many issues this year; but the area of most concern continues to be his ever-growing list of multiple food allergies.  Our dietician is very worried that M is struggling to tolerate so many foods and now refers to him as one of her “biggest, but loveliest challenges”.  The process of reintroduction has been so slow that until we have at least another 2 or 3 back in his diet, we cannot change the amount of E028 he’s having via his tube and so the tube obviously needs to stay in place.  We have chosen the next 5 foods to try – white fish, pear, GF oats, venison and coconut – and will also be doing some mini-challenges to see if we can have some more spices and flavourings to add into my recipes.  I will continue to remain in regular phone contact with her throughout these trials and we will keep persevering with the food challenges until our next scheduled appointment in around 4 months time.

NEAW 2015 – The Round-up

Last week was a busy week.  We just about managed to pause for breath along the way and achieved far more than we thought was possible.  Having taken a couple of days off from my blog – well I thought you’d probably had more than enough of me last week – I wanted to revisit NEAW 2015 to give a round-up of all our activities:

11030831_828235363934315_6504625663623229869_oE for Educate – I appeared on local radio, there was an article in our local newspaper about NEAW and even a follow-up article this week to talk about what we did. I blogged daily and posted regular updates about our life with EGID, achieving 600 views of my blog during the week as well as numerous shares on both FB and Twitter.

D for Donate – With the help and generosity of friends, family and fellow music lovers, we raised a fantastic £260 for FABED.  Thank you so much, I know that money is going to a great cause and will make a difference to EGID families who need their support just as much as we do.

U for Unite – WE DID IT!  Mike and I survived a week “eating like M” and discovered just how difficult a challenge it is.  I was filled, yet again, with absolute awe and admiration for M’s ability to eat meal after meal after meal consisting of nothing more than chicken, rice and cucumber.  I’m also incredibly proud to be able to share with you that G also did her bit on the Friday and ate “mostly like M“, with just a little bit extra of goats cheese and fruit to keep her smiling during lunchtime at school.  It’s the first year she’s asked to join in our challenge and I’m so impressed that she managed to stick it out without a wobble.

1529734_826685834089268_6472897324569407860_oC for Change – I hope we managed to change people’s attitude to and understanding of EGID during the week.  It was great to see the hashtag #morethanfoodallergies trending across FB and Twitter because that’s the key point I wanted to communicate last week: that whilst M struggles with food, his allergies are only a very small part of a much bigger picture.

A for Awareness – We raised awareness in everything we did.  Pink ribbons adorned our clothes, pump backpacks and hair, FABED awareness bands could be spotted around our wrists and M shared his video with the world.  It has had nearly 400 hits on YouTube, which made M’s week and something that started as a small project to encourage him to communicate his feelings about his illness morphed into a fantastic tool that allowed him to actively take part in raising awareness this week.

11265424_10152776813631123_3399504883350731420_nT for Thanks – I said my thanks and expected nothing more, but received some lovely compliments back from those of you reading and sharing my blog.  I’m just a Mum trying to do the best I can for my children and not always getting it right, but it was very nice to be told that I am “…the supermummiest mummy of the lot…” especially by someone who’s not even a family member and therefore under no obligation to believe that to actually be the case!

E for Engage – It may have been the hardest blog post to write for me, but M and G proved that they could engage with their school-mates in the most impressive of ways.  M presented his video at school throughout the week and had a fantastic response.  At the end of the week, I received this lovely and completely unexpected e-mail from G’s teacher to tell me about her class’s response to what M had to say:

M came to visit us with his presentation earlier on in the week and I was amazed, not only by the presentation, but also by his maturity and bravery.  He was just amazing and a real inspiration to us all.  G was also fantastic – helping answer some of the children’s questions and supporting M in the process.  They are both absolutely amazing – a big well done to them and your whole family.

And that just about sums up NEAW 2015 for us, so it must be time to put our feet up for another year…well, a Mum can dream, can’t she?!feetup

Our thanks go to…

The week is winding down and I am definitely looking forward to the start of half-term and the chance to have a sleep-in over the weekend.  One’s thing for certain, being active in raising awareness whilst eating a restricted diet really takes it out of you!thank-you-languages

With T for Thanks being our topic for today, what else could I do, but issue a few heart-felt thank-yous to those who’ve made a difference to us in the 12 months since the last NEAW. It’s tricky to know where to start, but, in no particular order, I’d like to thank:

Our families – well it was a given really, wasn’t it?  But whichever side of the ocean they may live, our families have been there in whatever way they can 澳大利亚孩子-1202242and supported us in the tricky decision to move M to a NG-tube and the elemental diet.   We don’t know exactly what the next 12 months hold in store for us, but we can be certain that our families will be there every step of the way.

Our friends – another obvious lot, but again we couldn’t have survived the past year without them all.  Their help has been invaluable: from text messages to lengthy phone conversations; early morning G-sitting to late night conversations with a cup of tea; and much-needed hugs to unexpected hospital mail, every single gesture has meant more than they can ever imagine and helped keep us strong.

GOSH – our consultant, her great gastro team and, in particular, the fantastic nurses who work with such dedication on Rainforest ward. Their care for M back in December was just amazing and without them looking after us both and giving wise words and training, we’d have struggled even more with the reality of the NG-tube and the feeding pump.  We also owe massive thanks to M’s fabulous dietitian, Colorful solidarity design treewho is always at the end of the phone or the email and has given me lots of helpful recommendations as well as reassuring me that I’m doing things right when it comes to the whole food re-introduction thing.

M’s School – I am very aware of just how lucky we have been with the staff at M and G’s school. They have been so understanding of how life was changing for both children during this school year and have made every effort to look after them and help them feel happy and safe when at school.  5 of the teaching staff bravely took on the role to learn how to manage his feeding pump, which meant that I could return to my job, confident that they were competent in what they needed to do.  This week they were also quick to agree to M’s request to share his presentation to the rest of the school and every teacher made time to make sure their class could see it and ask any questions they had.  This school has done a wonderful job of nurturing both my children and I will be sad when G moves on to “big school” in September.

G – the best big sister that M could ever have had.  She’s loved her little brother through some of his darkest moods and, even if there’s a bit too much squabbling at times for my liking, she’s managed to continue to work on building a strong relationship with him that I hope will only get stronger in time.  She’s survived the challenge of SATs, maybe not without the odd tantrum along the way, and continues to strive to do her best at school and at home.  P1000121And my heart nearly burst with pride the other week when she announced at Stagecoach that M is her hero, because of how bravely he lives and copes with EGID.

Mike – I couldn’t finish without recognising the person who stands alongside me on this, the most challenging of journeys we’ve been on together, and is my strength when I’m feeling weak.  We’ve reached a harmony that enables us to take turns in being the strong one during appointments and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be facing these decisions with.  He also understands my need to have some time to escape from the day-to-day grind of EGID and puts up with me disappearing off twice a week to choir rehearsals.

And thanks to all of you, who’ve kept reading my blog, put up with somemany…repeated requests on my part and have done an amazing job at sharing my posts on.  Your silent show of support is what helps keep me going, even when times are tough.

Day 5 and finally it’s A for Awareness!

A for Awareness has meant:

This…                                                                    and this…

                                                          …lots of this…

and this…  

This is the amazing video that M made, with help from his big sister, to share his story about life with EGID.  By the time this blog post is published, he will have presented it to every class in his school – that’s 8 classes, approximately 220 children and around 15 members of staff who will now understand his journey a little better.

So come on, you all know the drill by now:  share, share and share some more and help us get M’s message out there.