Tag Archives: Local hospital

Reflections of an appointment

I started writing this blog post 12 months ago and had put it to one side then because I wasn’t sure that the time was right to share all that was going on with M’s care at that point, particularly when it came to expressing my hesitation about whether the decisions being made were the right ones or not. Today we find ourselves in an even more emotionally charged situation and are becoming increasingly vexed with the marked lack of progress made over the last year. I revisited this original blog post tonight and decided that it now feels right to express that turmoil and the frustration in dealing with a medical team that appear to have lost their impetus to engage with us and with M. Those words written in italics are about our current experience.

There’s been lots going on over the last 6 months as many of my blog posts about our mini adventures have shown, but the one area I haven’t yet shared is the journey we’ve been exploring with our local consultant as I briefly mentioned last November. The decision to move almost all of M’s care from GOSH to our local hospital has not been an easy one to make, but for many reasons we have concluded that it is possibly the best one for now. Having a complete MDT (Multi-Disciplinary Team) close at hand to discuss all the challenges of M’s health has been invaluable and experiencing first-hand their willingness to see him at the drop of a hat over a 6-week period, where we’ve had 2 “emergency” appointments and 1 planned one, has been a relief, especially when you consider the problems we’ve had with them in the past.

It sounds fantastic doesn’t it? An almost perfect solution to meeting the complex and on-going medical needs of M; and yet, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that we’ve had our ups and downs with some of their suggestions and have not yet found ourselves moving on and making progress from the starting point we had 12 months ago. The overall opinion held is that M’s ongoing problems are not really related to his EGID diagnosis or the numerous foods we have previously identified as being unsafe, but rather a physical problem that is massively affected by psychological influences that are still to be fully explored and identified. We don’t disagree that there absolutely has to be a psychological element to M’s health: how can any child live through the experiences of his first 12 years and not be impacted in that way? But it also feels as if they’re throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath water and ignoring all of M’s physical symptoms from birth to 5, a time when it was impossible for him to have developed any fears of new foods or associations that certain foods would cause certain health problems.

It’s been challenging for us to adjust our thinking and look to embrace their suggestions of how to move things forward for M. Experience is constantly nagging at the back of my consciousness, gently reminding me that so many times I have been proved to know my son far better than the doctors treating him; but Mike and I have both worked hard to be positive about their new ideas because ultimately we want what is best for M and what will improve his quality of life beyond his, and our, wildest expectations.

In August 2017, my thoughts stopped there. I wanted so desperately to believe that things were going to change, to improve for M and it was, I think, a conscious decision to not air my hesitations and doubts because I was afraid to unwittingly jinx the improvements we were hoping would come about. However, nearly a year on and things have not changed at all. I now have a child who has struggled his way through the first year of secondary school and has lost the spark that makes him him. M no longer sees a positive in being treated at our local hospital and just wants to return to the care of GOSH, which is the last place he can actively relate to seeing any major changes to his day-to-day living. He has gained a couple of extra foods, but we are only at 9 (chicken, rice, cucumber, apple, pear, parsnips, bacon, onion and banana) and not the 20 that his consultant expected when we met him at the start of June.

At that appointment, the entire MDT acknowledged that M is not the child they knew 12 months ago and commented on his lost enthusiasm for choosing new foods to trial. I have tried so hard to explain to them that I am certain that M is not thinking his body into failing those challenges, but none of us really knows that for sure. The truth is that there are some foods that cause an unquestionable reaction and with others it’s difficult to judge if they’re causing an issue, or if it’s simply a case that we’re not really giving his body time to rest and recover between each trial. I’ll be honest, we’ve decided to relax the rules a lot at key times because it’s becoming increasingly evident that M needs the emotional boost that occasionally being able to eat more “normally” gives him. However, every decision to eat something we wouldn’t usually allow brings with it a set of consequences that are difficult for us all and not just for M to process.

I don’t know where we’re heading or what the next few months hold for M. The one thing we’re all agreed on is that we can’t keep living the current status quo because every day like this destroys another small part of the confidence we have in his medical team and buries his spark even deeper.

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And I’m back!

You might have noticed that my blog has been quiet for a few weeks and, in time, I will explain a little more about the need…my need… for an extended silence as life has happened around us. However, we’re home after some family time away from home over the Easter holidays and I’m back with a vengeance with just so many reviews, recipes and photos to share from the last month or so.

But, before I get to the fun bits, I thought there was a much-needed health update, which is desperately long overdue. On the medical front, things are still ticking along without much intervention from anyone other than us. We haven’t been seen at GOSH for over a year and I have no idea when or if an appointment will come through the door. The gastro department there are very much working on moving patients back into local care and whilst I have steadfastly refused to let them discharge M from their care fully, they have definitely taken a step back and are in the background in an advisory capacity only should we want or need to call on them.

It also feels a little as if our local hospital has shrugged their shoulders with something of a “…we don’t really know or understand what’s going on with him…” attitude and are touching base with us on a fairly infrequent basis. I don’t really blame them as, for the most part, M is just going along as always and frankly I’m certain that I know far more about managing the ups and downs of his EGID on a day-to-day basis than anyone else. The one biggest change that has hit us has been the confirmation that there is almost definitely a mast cell problem lying alongside the EGID, but as the treatment is more or less the same for both, that diagnosis hasn’t made a difference to him or us in any way.

Food-wise, we’re now tentatively up to around the 9 or 10 food mark, having introduced onion, bacon and bananas on a regular basis and allowing the occasional other food creep in when circumstances call for it and we can be reasonably confident we can manage the outcome. These 3 foods have really added to my repertoire of recipes and make cooking so much more interesting and flavourful for M. Holidays continue to be the time when we really stretch our boundaries and whilst there are always consequences to live with – some of which are easier than others – our approach has led to a much happier M.

Both children are doing well at school with glowing “short” reports and parents’ evenings for them. G has selected her GCSE options with relatively little fuss or argument or discussion and we’re heading with a little trepidation into the wonderful world of humanities combined with dance. She recently took and passed her Grade 3 clarinet exam, a day I wasn’t sure we’d ever see and is also teaching herself to play the keyboard, guitar and ukulele in any spare moments she finds at home. G and M also recently took part in a regional Stagecoach performance celebrating 30 years of Stagecoach and loved every moment of it. It was great to watch them from the wings (I was back in chaperone role once more) as they danced and sang with enthusiasm on stage. As you can see, it’s been a busy few weeks and there’s just so much to share that I’m not entirely certain where I’ll begin!

Big Youth Forum Meet-up

In the middle of October, a group of over 80 young people from across the country gathered at Great Ormond Street Hospital for the first ever national Young People’s Forum (YPF) meet-up. Organised by members of GOSH’s YPF, the event looked to provide an opportunity for discussion about the practical and emotional issues that impact young people when they are in hospital as well as running workshops teaching a variety of skills from basic first aid to how to run a successful national awareness campaign.

Never ones to miss a great opportunity, we checked the proposed date for the meet-up and signed both G and M up to be a part of the day as soon as we could. G has been a member of the GOSH YPF for over a year, whilst M had been counting down the days to his 11th birthday so that he could similarly join the group. He finally attended his first meeting earlier this year and was thrilled to be able to be a part of this inaugural event, especially when he revealed that they were hoping to invite a celebrity to take part in the event too. It proved to a real learning experience for them both as they were invited to take part in the planning for the day itself via conference calls, a life skill that I never imagined them learning before their careers kicked off. We sat around the kitchen table, discussing conference call etiquette, the need to keep your phone on mute until you actually wanted to speak and the importance of listening carefully to what the others involved had to say.

After weeks of careful planning, the day finally arrived and we made our way across London to GOSH bright and early on the Saturday morning, following the signs that had been chalked on the surrounding pavements to help the visiting youngsters find their way. Mike and I were excited to learn that their celebrity guest was comedian Alex Brooker, star of “The Last Leg” and himself a former GOSH patient. G and M were less impressed, neither knowing who he was and whilst M was initially quite disappointed that his own top pick, magician Dynamo, was not going to be there, he very much enjoyed the opening talk that Alex gave to the group of young people attending the Big meet-up.

From what they told us afterwards, the day just flew past and they were keen participants in every activity, including covering their arms with a selection of temporary tattoos recently designed by GOSH Arts with the help of a few members of the YPF. G decided to attend the First Aid workshop, where she learned the basics of CPR as well as how to deal with anaphylaxis and administer epi-pens. She was particularly delighted to learn this latter skill as it was something that she and M had requested be a part of the First Aid training given. M, on the other hand, opted for a workshop ran by consultant paediatric surgeon, Ross Fisher teaching practical presentation skills, which he has subsequently put to great use at school. All in all, G and M had a fantastic day and are already looking forward to next’s year national meet-up, which is being hosted jointly by the Nottingham and Derby YPFs.

NEAW 2017 – Living with the unknown

2017 marks our 5th National Eosinophil Awareness Week and yet, in many ways and for many reasons, this year may be one of our quietest yet. One of those reasons is that over the last 12 months, we have experienced a significant shift in the way that M’s doctors view his diagnosis and that change, along with the inevitable amount of growing up that is going on in our household at the moment, means that life has become about a lot more than just the label we’ve been handed to explain his medical condition. I’ll be honest, that transitioning medical opinion has been difficult to live with because it has challenged the very way we’ve coped with the last 11 years of our life and has demanded that we examine closely all of those decisions we’ve made believing them to be in the best interests of both our children and not just M. It has made us sit back and question whether we’ve been choosing and doing the right thing.

This seismic shift that we’ve been experiencing is not isolated to our experiences or even to our part of the world, but rather appears to be part of a nationwide change in the understanding, and even the diagnosis, of Eosinophilic disorders themselves. As a parent to a child with this diagnosis, the prospect of moving away from recognising Eosinophilic Disease as a genuine medical condition is a daunting one. Whatever title you want to attach to this little-recognised health issue, the hard facts are that those diagnosed with it are struggling and suffering on a daily basis and removing the validity of its name does not, and will not, remove the reality of the problem itself. The steps we have taken over the last 4 years since diagnosis have not always been easy ones, but without a shadow of a doubt, they have been ones that have seen much improved health for M at times when we have had to make what are unquestionably the toughest of choices.

Similarly, we are not the only family who has found itself moving away from the care provided by GOSH over the last couple of years – some have moved by choice, whilst others have had little or no say in the matter. In our case, our GOSH consultant and dietitian recommended we sought local input into his care because they had reached a point where they could find no explanation for why his body reacts as it does and felt that a fresh pair of eyes might be able to give us different insight into how to go on from here. The last 8 months have been extremely challenging for us all as our local consultant has made suggestions that we are not always 100% on board with and it has taken unbelievable courage on the part of all in our family to even agree to try new things that no-one really knows will succeed in the long run. The jury is still out on whether we are currently heading in the right direction with his care and truthfully only time will tell whether the decisions we are making this time round are the right ones or not.

Without any funded research into the complexities of gastrointestinal disorders, individuals like M will always be at the mercy of what can only be seen as an experimental approach, as diet, medicines and psychology are discussed and considered and tweaked to produce the best possible outcome on very much a “trial and error” basis. In our experience, we know that food plays a huge part in the way that M’s body behaves and the medicines he’s currently on appear to be doing their job of dampening down the body’s reactions to everything he eats. Likewise, we agree that there is a psychological element to it all and have had our concerns about the psychological impact of a chronic illness on his mental well-being. Sadly, where we have currently agreed to disagree with the medics is whether the psychology plays a bigger part than the physiology when it comes to M’s day-to-day health and responses. Yes, we know that stress can wreak havoc on the digestive system of just about everyone, but we will not be swayed in our belief that it is more than that for M. The hard facts of our 11 years with M show us that his health challenge is unquestionably a physical one and we will continue to fight for greater understanding of Eosinophilic disorders and how they affect everyday living for those diagnosed with them.

This week is about raising awareness of EGID and sharing our experiences – the good, the bad and the ugly – of living with it. 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.

This year we have decided to continue our support of the amazing charity, Over The Wall and their camps. If you’re able to donate even a very small amount, please follow this link to my Virgin Money Giving Page where your donation will help more children living with chronic illness like G and M by giving them and their families a chance to enjoy some much-needed time away from it all.

Indescribable fear

b6e83c2b62a1e0ec0cd3fbc189efbc94When I wrote this blog last week, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever sat down to write. Life has a way of throwing a curveball when you least expect it and these last 2 weeks have been no exception. My words captured my emotions at their most raw, at their most honest, when the fear of what could be had me tightly in its grip.

In November I wrote a blog all about World Diabetes Day 2016 that contained these words:

The 18 years since that fateful day have been filled with… the ever-present nagging fear that despite the continuing ability of my right eye to confound the experts by being startlingly healthy in comparison, things could change without warning at any moment…”

not realising that that moment would come so much quicker than any of us expected. Before Diabetes awareness month had finished, I went for my annual retinal screening at the local eye hospital and was given the devastating news that my right eye is showing the early signs of diabetic retinopathy. I was told that there is no choice. That I have to have laser surgery as soon as possible. Before Christmas. The last few days have been full of unending tears and constant fears about what this could mean for my sight and not just my future, but the future of our family’s life together.

The good news is that the retinopathy has been caught early, far earlier than that in my left eye 18 years ago and the consultant is confident that the amount of laser burns I will need should leave me with enough vision to still be able to safely drive my car. He listened to my concerns that the same complications could occur again and told me that technology and the equipment used has come on a long way and that the treatment is a lot more gentle than it was then.

The truth is that I’ve a lot to be grateful for this time round, but that doesn’t stop the fears that have haunted every night’s sleep since that appointment.

The fear that I might never be able to read or write without aids.

The fear that adventures to new places will be restricted to the things I can hear and smell and that I will no longer be able to fully appreciate the beauty of the world surrounding me.

The fear that I will lose so much of the independence that we all take for granted and will become dependent on those who surround me.

The fear that there will ultimately be an unfair role reversal and my children will feel a responsibility to look after me that they should never have to feel, ever.

The fear that I might not be able to clearly see my beautiful children’s faces ever again.

Nearly 2 weeks on and the fears have been joined by their eager and willing bedfellows, confusion and doubt.

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Unable to trust fully the opinion of our local eye hospital who did, after all, make such a dreadful mistake 18 years ago and left me dependent on the ongoing health of my right eye, Mike and I took the decision to go to Moorfields Eye Hospital, London for a second opinion. I needed to be sure; to be certain that this time the advice I’d been given was right and to have the confidence in the doctor who would treat my eye. That’s what we expected to get, but instead I’ve been left confounded by the outcome of that appointment, almost as much as I was stunned by the appointment at our local the previous week. Last Wednesday, this consultant said that he could see no signs of diabetic retinopathy in my right eye. None. At. All. He could not identify anything that would cause him to support the suggestion of my local hospital that I had urgent laser surgery and would, in fact, suggest that, given my past experience and subsequent loss of sight in my left eye, no treatment be given at the moment. He could not justify even considering it as an option.

Which left me feeling absolutely bewildered. Two top eye hospitals; two specialist doctors; and two very different opinions. I wanted to be pleased by the new diagnosis, but those fears had taken a hold and weren’t willing to let me go without a fight.

So yesterday I was back at our local eye hospital, seeing my named consultant, who is considered to be one of the top ophthalmologists in the field of diabetic retinopathy. This is a specialist who knows me, saw me safely through 2 pregnancies and carried out my cataract operation 8 years ago. I can’t lie. My confidence in our local hospital is at an all-time low and I dread to think what the outcome might have been if we hadn’t decided to seek a second opinion before the surgery took place. The outcome was the very best that I could hope for. She completely concurred with her Moorfields colleague and said that laser surgery is the very last thing I need right now. She acknowledged that our trust in our local hospital will be at rock-bottom and knows she has to do a lot to rebuild our faith in them. From this point on, she has insisted that I will only see her for my future appointments and has given me free access to her via her secretary whenever I need it.

The last 2 weeks have been a terrifying rollercoaster ride that we were unable to escape until we reached the end. We have been supported by our fantastic families and an amazing group of friends who have offered love, prayers and help every step of the way. That help has enabled us to protect the children from the turmoil and kept our fears from impacting on them.

I am hoping beyond hope that those fears will never be realised, but only time will tell.

Breaking the curse

Reaching today feels like something of a landmark moment. We’ve had our fingers crossed that we’d get to yesterday’s date without so much as a hiccup to stand in our way and we’ve not only reached it unscathed, but have surpassed it with no sign of looking back. Saturday was December 3rd and we were all feeling more than a little nervous about it. The date might not ring any bells with you, but in our household, hitting midnight on the 3rd at home felt like a huge achievement. For the last two years, that date has signalled the start of a hospital admission for M and we were desperate that history wouldn’t repeat itself for the 3rd year in a row. Of course, in both 2014 and 2015 we knew that the admissions were planned and it was just a case of waiting for a bed to be available for him, but nothing prepared us for the unlikely scene of déjà vu when the phone-call came summoning us to London once again, exactly one year to the day of the previous one.

There was no reason to think it would happen again, not least because there are no further admissions planned at GOSH and we had already told our local hospital that we wouldn’t even consider a December admission this year, but the fears of our “December 3rd curse” were there anyway. I’d like to say that the weekend passed without event, which is really what we would have preferred, but as ever in the 7Y2D household that isn’t quite the case. There have been unplanned hospital visits and unexpected procedures discussed for family members other than M over the last week, and the implications of those are still being mulled over as decisions have to be made and soon. However, most importantly, today is December 5th; M and G are at school, Mike and I are at work and that’s just the way it should be.

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Now we can start to enjoy Christmas!

From all angles

The last few months have been busy ones in all areas of our life, which I haven’t been shy in talking about, but the one aspect that I haven’t mentioned for quite some time is where we are health-wise with M’s EGID. You could view the reason for the radio silence as a good one – we haven’t really been making any significant progress and everyday continues to be a battle to see if we can reach and maintain some semblance of status quo for a decent length of time. I’ll be honest, since March things have been quite challenging as we have had little medical support and we have felt, at times, as if we’ve been cut loose and are paddling desperately to make some headway by ourselves. The reason for the missing input is that we are in the process of trying to build a shared care relationship between GOSH and our local hospital once again and at long last do appear to be making bmd6e7zcyaef7disome progress, albeit very slowly. We last saw M’s GOSH consultant in the middle of March, when it was somewhat reluctantly agreed by us that we would wait until November for his next GOSH appointment with the plan being that we would meet and then have an appointment with our local gastro team during the interim period.

It may well come as something of a surprise that we are even considering transferring some of M’s gastro care back to our local given the  numerous problems we’ve had in the past, but this time we were encouraged by the fact that his new gastro consultant is a registrar that we got to know whilst at GOSH and someone we trust implicitly when it comes to M and his health. Dr W, who has invited us and M to be on a first-name basis with him, was instrumental in getting M admitted 2 years ago when we made the decision to move to elemental feeding and so is someone who knows something of M’s background and understands where we, as his parents, stand when it comes to treating this disease. We are also keen to gain some local support for M because, when crisis hits, it is very difficult to get any immediate care from GOSH due to the distance we live from the hospital and the inability to just pop along there for them to review his current state of health. There is a standing agreement that we can phone and discuss him with any one of his consultant’s team, but sometimes that isn’t enough to resolve the issue as quickly as we all need. supportDr W had already agreed with GOSH that he was happy to meet with us and look at the potential possibility of taking over some of M’s care during last year’s disastrous admission and he understands that there is a trust issue between us and our local hospital that he and his team will need to work hard to re-establish – something that is so critical to M’s well-being.

With a little prodding, it didn’t take too long for Dr W to give me a call and then for an initial appointment to arrive on our doormat and Mike, M and I met with them in the middle of June. At this point, M’s broken leg had unleashed an unexpected level of havoc on his body and we were struggling to manage the ever-fluctuating bowel issues as well as his increasing reluctance to drink the E028 and huge disappointment that we couldn’t undertake any food trials whilst he was so unstable. The team was great, but it really was just a conversation about what we were looking for and what they felt they could do for us. A few interesting insights and suggestions about M’s diagnosis were thrown out, but there was no opportunity to ask questions about them and now, 3 months on, our reflections have left us wondering about what the next steps will be. What didn’t come as a surprise was the question mark over whether M is truly suffering from so many genuine food allergies or rather if there is an underlying problem with his gut and/or bowels which means that he is unable to tolerate so many foods at the moment. This has been a question that has been stumping his GOSH dietician too, who has freely admitted to finding M one of her most challenging patients ever and is hoping our local will provide a fresh pair of eyes when it comes to considering how best to treat him. Dr W also expressed a concern that 20150203_082342M would eventually stop drinking the E028 altogether and stressed that we need to find a viable alternative before we reach that point. This has proved to be remarkably insightful as it is now one of the biggest issues that we have had to contend with since that June appointment, with M struggling to drink even half of the required amount and with no new foods in his diet, there are growing concerns about both his weight and his nutritional intake.

Just before our Portuguese holiday, I contacted our GOSH dietician to discuss with her the lack of progress we’ve been making with M and asking for her input as to what we should do next. The email reply I had came as something of a concern as she explained she was under the impression that all care had been moved to our local hospital and she was surprised that I was looking to have a further conversation with her. I fired off a considered response, copying in both the GOSH and local consultants, advising that whilst we had met with the local gastro team in June, we had heard absolutely nothing since and really needed some medical advice once September started, although somewhat ironically we have had our next GOSH appointment booked – September 2017! Thankfully the strong relationship we have built up with this dietician since M first went to GOSH 5 years ago meant that S was happy to step in and gave me a call just a few days into September. She was as concerned as I was about the lack of medical care being given to M at the moment and during that lengthy phone conversation, worked with me to put a plan into place for food trials over the next 4-6 weeks. She also offered to chase both Dr W and our GOSH consultant to find out what was happening regarding the transfer of M’s care and try and speed up the process to ensure that M is seen before November if at all possible. I’m not quite sure what strings she pulled, but within a week of speaking to S, Mike received a phone-call from Dr W to tell him that a plan had been agreed between the two hospitals and an appointment would soon be forthcoming. Delighted to hear that a plan would soon be put in place, Mike asked whether we could be privy to the discussion they had had, so that we too were on board with whatever next steps they were expecting to make. Another lengthy conversation later and at long last, we finally had some idea of how M’s care will be handled until the end of the year at least.

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The most critical aspect of looking after M right now is that no-one really understands what is going on with his body, his bowels and gut in particular, and there doesn’t appear to be any logical explanation why we seem to be stuck at just 5 safe foods. Add to that the added complications of the massive downturn in his health that happened as a result of his broken leg and the resulting failure to find ourselves in as good a position as we were a year ago, the medics all agree that they are more than a little stumped. So, rather than rush into more tests or a radically changed approach to his treatment, our local gastro team have booked monthly appointments for the next 3 months, where they will be assessing and observing him without getting too involved in the medical decisions. Obviously any problems that we do encounter during that time will be addressed, they won’t leave M to suffer unnecessarily, but they are leaving us to work with GOSH in terms of his food challenges and medicine tweaks. They have also recognised the need for psychological support, not just for M, but for the whole family and are proposing that we start with weekly appointments, split into fortnightly appointments for M and the alternate weeks for Mike and me. We have long argued that the diagnosis of his EGID has a huge psychological and emotional impact on M and have frequently seen the outpouring of that in the home environment. The added stress of his SATs this year is already showing at both home and at school and so I am hopeful that with these regular sessions in place and the support of us and his teacher, we will ensure he makes his way through Year 6 relatively unscathed. With this kind of all-encompassing care in place and the availability of local support for any admissions or longer term treatment changes that might be needed, the strain on the family will hopefully be reduced a little too, although it will obviously never fully disappear. We don’t know what the future holds for M and that is the most daunting thing we have to face as a family. What is encouraging is that there is already an open dialogue between some of the many people involved in M’s day-to-day care and our hope is that can only prove to be the best thing for him.

Life’s never dull

I had today’s blog post planned and then this happened:

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Cue: reams of paper towels to stem the bleeding; a frantic phone-call to get M safely to school with a friend; miles driven between home, GP surgery, local Minor Injuries Unit and local hospital; and bucket-loads of tears and the occasional hysterics as anaesthetic was injected to numb her finger.

Result: no stitches for the time being despite being told 3 were needed originally, a well steri-stripped middle finger, a buddy strap to keep it straight for a couple of days and a much-needed day off school for when emotions eventually catch up with her.

Life’s certainly never dull in our household!

When September arrives

img_11331September can really only mean one thing: the start of the new school year and all that that entails. This year it has been just that little bit more hectic than usual as some things have changed significantly, whilst others have remained strangely static. G has moved up into Year 8 and is already embracing the addition of 3 new subjects to her timetable,very much enjoying the extra lessons of French, Dance and Drama as well as the move from Food and Textiles to Product Design. With the new school year, so there is also a new school uniform and whilst G is still a little sceptical about its appeal, I am delighted with how smart she looks, though only time will tell if that will last for the full year or not. M is at the start of the final year of his Junior school career and I still can’t quite believe that my baby is  now one of the oldest in the school. We know that this year will be full of challenges from an educational point of view, but with the continued support of his teachers at school and a full year of specialist lessons at our local Dyslexia centre, we are confident that he will be able to achieve his very best.

This September has also signified some major decisions about my own career after I was made redundant out of the blue at the end of the last school year. I am incredibly fortunate that my accountancy training meant that I was offered a new job within a remarkably short time-frame and I started that position the week before the children headed back to school. I felt encouraged by my new role and yet the last 2 weeks IMG_0743[1]have been filled with unexpected angst as one of the other positions I had applied for requested an interview and then offered me the job. After hours of deliberation and discussion and numerous sleepless nights, I have decided to accept this second role as it is an incredibly exciting and challenging position that I believe I would regret turning down. I am really looking forward to starting this new job at the beginning of October, which will bring some significant changes to our household as I will be back to working full-time hours for the first time since G was born, although I am lucky that they are happy to give me flexible hours and everything I need to sometimes work at home.

img_11381September has also been the month where we enjoyed a flying visit from Grandma and Grandpa, Mike’s parents, from Canada. G and M were so excited to see their grandparents for the first time in 4 years that they created a banner to welcome them when we went to collect them from our local airport. img_11431Mike finally finished the renovation job on our 4th bedroom, a task that had been started back in April,
but was interrupted first by the whole saga of M’s broken leg and then the demands of work and our summer holiday in Portugal. The room looks great, but his parents never got to sleep there as Mike had a last-minute panic that the futon bed might be too low for them and instead they slept in G’s room, whilst our gorgeous girlie moved to the freshly painted spare room for a few days. G, M and I all had to be at school and work as normal, but Mike spent some precious time with his parents before they returned home. It was a busy few days for us all, but we managed to squeeze in some family meals and board games where we could.

In the midst of all that busyness, there is one thing that has remained relatively static and that is the current position with M’s health, a real mixed blessing. The last year has been filled with numerous food trials, including during our disastrous admission at GOSH last December, but M is still stuck at just 5 safe foods and despite our hopes to start challenging him again soon, he is not even close to being symptom-free, something we’ve been striving for since his leg came out of plaster at the start of the summer. We are surviving in limbo with minimal medical input as the plan to start some shared gastro care with our local hospital has not yet materialised and we are not due back to GOSH for another couple of months. It is very difficult to see where the next few months will take us, particularly when you add in the added stresses of his Year 6 SATs, and so Mike and I are hoping for the best, but preparing for a bumpy ride.

Rice Two-Ways

When we made the decision to go elemental in an attempt to bring about a reduction in M’s chronic symptoms, I never imagined that the reintroduction of foods would be as fraught and intensely stressful as it has proved to be. In the past 12 months we have made absolutely no progress whatsoever and everyone is stumped about what the root cause of M’s problems actually is, with opinions fluctuating between complications from his EC, “simple” multiple allergies or a physiological problem with his gut. Whilst the teams of medical professionals involved in M’s care try to decide on what direction they should follow next, I’m left stretching my ingenuity to its very limits when it comes to preparing meals for my understandably fed up 10-year-old.

mixed_rice

I’m constantly on the search for anything that will make my cooking life that tiny bit easier and a lot more interesting and love finding products that are both M-friendly and a little out of the ordinary. Like many of you I’ve eaten rice for years, but generally just as boiled rice to go with a tasty chilli con carne or egg fried from the local Chinese takeaway and had never really thought much about it. Since rice has become the staple carbohydrate of M’s diet, I’ve come to love the versatility of this ingredient and continue to be delighted by the many versions of it I’ve uncovered along the way. Rice milk, rice porridge flakes, rice cereal, rice flour, rice crackers, rice noodles, rice pasta, rice vinegar and your choice of plain rice: long grain, brown, basmati, wild or black have an overwhelming presence in my kitchen cupboards and so now do 2 rice-based products that I’ve discovered over the summer.

img_08441First are Blue Dragon Spring Roll Wrappers, which do contain a small amount of tapioca starch, but are predominantly made from rice flour. Having recently perfected my own version of lemon chicken to satisfy M’s longing for some much-missed Chinese food, these seemed like a great addition to the repertoire and I couldn’t wait to make both M and G some M-friendly pancake rolls for dinner. If you’ve never attempted to cook with these before, let me tell you that they are not the easiest ingredient to use, but I suspect that a lot more practice will make a big difference. I set up my workspace next to the kettle, filled a shallow baking dish with boiling water and then painstakingly soaked the wrappers, 1 sheet at a time, before filling them with some thinly sliced chicken, cucumber, apple and pear that I had already prepared. img_08461I cooked them in 2 different ways, interested to see which my discerning duo preferred and was very much surprised by the results when they came in. G loved the bigger roll which was just prepared as I described above, whilst M told me he’d opt for the shallow-fried triangles every time. I am thrilled that the wrappers were so well received by both children and can’t wait to see what else I can cook with them as I’m sure that they are versatile enough to be used to create some sweet treats as well as the more traditional savoury dishes.

img_11031The other is a real store cupboard essential and I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was to discover this item when I was perusing the virtual aisles of the fantastic online supermarket that is the FreeFromMarket. As for when the box of Clearspring Brown Rice Breadcrumbs arrived, nestled in the midst of my other purchases, well, Mike and the children were all summoned by my squeals of joy and then left me to my celebrations, shaking their heads sadly in complete disbelief. I am sure that there are so many ways to use the breadcrumbs in my cooking, but I started by preparing a breaded, stuffed chicken breast along the lines of a more traditional chicken kiev. I made a coconut oil and herb mix, which I carefully squeezed inside the cut I’d made in the chicken breast, before coating it liberally with the breadcrumbs. 25 minutes later and img_11091dinner was ready with a golden brown chicken breast tantalising the taste buds with both its look and its smell. They really were delicious and neither child was very willing to sacrifice a mouthful of their meal for Mum to taste-test herself. Now that the summer holidays are over and we’re heading into the autumn, roast dinners will make a more regular appearance in our household and I’m hoping to use these breadcrumbs to create an M-friendly stuffing for us all to enjoy.

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