Tag Archives: National Eosinophil Awareness Week

NEAW 2016 – #MoreThanFoodAllergies

The headline in our local paper for this year’s #NEAW focuses once again on the allergies

I share a frustration with Michelle, one of the lovely co-founders of the FABED, that all too often people living outside of the EGID world get drawn into the food allergies side of this illness and don’t really understand that that is just a small part of a much bigger picture. I can understand why the focus so often falls on it as it’s the bit that people think they understand and can relate to the most. After all, just about everyone knows someone, be it their next-door neighbour, the family down the street or Great Aunt Joan in Australia, who has an allergy. They often feel that that acquaintance, however remote, gives them an insight into what life must be like when your every waking moment is ruled by their presence and I’m all for that belief encouraging them to engage me in conversation about it. Added to that, so much of our social life revolves around food, a fact that isn’t a revelation to me as I’ve discussed it before on my blog. In the last week alone we’ve had to survive the “Second Sunday” breakfast held at our church, sweets brought into school to celebrate birthdays and M’s class cake sale to raise funds for classroom resources. We managed them all in our own way, from arriving late and avoiding the table of food in the church hall, to M’s trusty swap box, which has finally been refilled and returned to his teacher and the gentle request to the TA that the class cakes be moved to somewhere other than next to M’s stationary wheelchair for the day.

Of course, I obviously can’t ignore the fact that my blog focuses a lot on the impact M’s complex food allergies has on our everyday life. So much of my time and energy is spent researching, adapting and learning more about how to feed him varied meals whilst coping with such a restricted diet that food allergies undeniably rule my kitchen. As a fellow EGID Mum recently posted, every single aspect of our children’s lives are affected by food, no matter how many food allergies they are dealing with. Everything has to be planned and thought about, there can be no leaving things to chance and there’s rarely an opportunity to be completely spontaneous. At home, at school, going out for meals, tea at a friend’s house, family gatherings, holidays, hospital admissions, trick or treating, birthday parties, Christmas, Easter, the list is endless and all-consuming. There’s also unquestionable irony in the fact that we as a family will be “eating like M” to draw attention to the eosinophil awareness week. The reason? I know our restricted diets will allow us to engage with others who will be intrigued by the limitations and in turn that will enable us to share the EGID story too.

However, despite the truths above, it’s really important to get the message out there than EGID is about more than food allergies, a whole lot more. Whilst it’s common for people with ‪EGID to have food allergies, those with allergies do not always develop EGID. At the risk of repeating myself, EGID is, as I wrote for last year’s #NEAW, about “…the unexplained joint aches, the never-ending tummy cramps, the relentless feelings of nausea or reflux whenever you eat. The dark shadows under the eyes, the manic mood swings, the overwhelming lethargy, or the inability to fall asleep and stay that way. The damaged bowel, the fear of not being near enough to a toilet whenever you need one, or knowing that you’ll never get there in time anyway. The fear of your friends making fun of your allergies or finding out that you’re still wearing a pull-up because your bowel can’t be relied on when you most need it to. The daily medicines, restricted diets and the feeding tubes. The chronic pain that can reduce you to tears, yet you don’t complain because nothing helps, even when it’s at its worst.

It’s about getting used to these things as being normal, or not even realising they’re not.”

We’re marking our 4th National Eosinophil Awareness Week and despite all our best efforts, I still find myself spending a lot of time explaining that there is more to M than his food allergies. This year is a particularly tough one as there is a lot of uncertainty and discussion in the medical community about the validity of EGID as a diagnosis. Hospitals and their consultants are questioning whether EGID is really anything more than complicated food allergies, but they are failing to talk, and more importantly to listen, to the families who are living with it on a daily basis, who are surviving those symptoms I’ve mentioned above and who are having to battle to get their voices heard. Some parents have found themselves in a situation where treatment has been removed suddenly because the veracity of their child’s EGID diagnosis is under review and are left watching their loved ones spiralling back into chronic ill-health whilst the medics argue over whether EGID exists. I can’t predict what the next 12 months will bring for those of us living with the presence of EGID in our families, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we will all continue to fight for ongoing good health and that every battle won is a huge success.

EGID is about #morethanfoodallergies and that’s a message the world needs to hear.

Just a reminder that as well as raising awareness of EGID this week, we are also fundraising for Over The Wall Serious Fun camps. If you are able to donate, even a small amount, that donation will make a big difference to children like M and G, who benefit massively from these camps. You can donate via my Just Giving page or the link on the side of this page. Thank you!

The 12 day countdown…

Allergy Awareness Week 2016

Over The Wall

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It was last summer when I first heard about Over The Wall and the amazing camps they run across the UK for children with serious health problems. M’s GOSH and EGID friend, R and his big sister, I otw were fortunate to go to one and the photos and comments about it posted by their Mum, Annie left me determined to find out more and see whether M might similarly qualify for a place.

Over the Wall is a UK-based charity that is part of the international SeriousFun Children’s Network, which is based on an original idea set up by actor Paul Newman in the 1980s. He identified that the popular US summer camps attended by thousands of American school children every year often left out children living with chronic health conditions because of the inability of camp volunteers to cope with the often complex medical needs. His vision was to open up that opportunity to every child, regardless of their health needs, and he helped to provide full support for every child whilst they were away from home. These children got the full “camp” experience as they were unaccompanied by parents or carers and were able to enjoy a touch of “normal” in their otherwise complicated lives. From that simple starting point, one camp spread across the US and into countries across the world and soon followed the realisation that not only did the sick child miss out, but so, all too often, did their siblings and the idea for a separate siblings camp was formed.

I was delighted to learn about the siblings camp and, feeling that this was another great opportunity for G to escape the constraints of a sick sibling and be surrounded and supported by others in the same situation, duly applied; and so it was that a couple of weeks ago, G headed off to deepest, darkest Dorset for a week of serious fun. Just as her Young Carers group gives her the opportunity to have time away from M with other local youngsters in similar supporting roles, G spent the week with other 8-17 year olds from across the South of England and Wales, who all have 1 thing in a common: a brother or sister living with a chronic health problem. It was a week to be herself, not defined or viewed in her role as M’s big sister, and encouraged to take time to focus on herself without worrying about M and how he would feel.

The children who attend are split into 8 groups: 4 colours determined by their age, with orange for the youngest and blue for the oldest; and then each colour split into separate boys and girls teams. Volunteers are a key part of the camps and their numbers match camper numbers, so for the 60+ children on the 2016 South Siblings Camp, there were 60+ volunteers supporting them, encouraging them and making sure they had fun. During the week the teams participate in a number of activities, from swimming to archery and from climbing to arts and crafts and much, much more. Their days are carefully planned with breaks and an after lunch rest hour, which G tells me was strictly adhered to, as well as a cabin chat every evening, where the teams reflect on their days and every member is awarded a bead to recognise what they’ve achieved. Discos, team games, inter-team challenges, morning singsongs, new activities, skills learned, old favourites and even a talent show sum up G’s week away.

G’s enthusiasm about her time on camp has been wonderful to hear and she was keen to teach M the camp songs and share so many snippets of everything she got up to whilst there. I love the fact that there was little or no discussion about their chronically ill siblings, but instead the focus was well and truly where it needed to be – on these children who all too frequently miss out. I was impressed with the array of meaningful mementoes that G brought home with her, as impressed as she was delighted. More than just her purple OTW t-shirt and a black one for M, but also a carefully crafted wooden bird-box, team and camp photos, a hand-print card holding the reflections of the team – both peers and volunteers – on who G is as a person and why they appreciated her, and that precious collection of beads reflecting her achievements during the week, recognised by her team volunteers and accompanied by a written record of why they felt she had earned them. All of these things have built up her self-confidence in those few days away and have helped her feel even more valued within this new group of friends.

For us, it was an unnaturally quiet week in the household and there was a definite sense of something missing from our every activity. M was reluctant to admit to missing having G around to play with and torment, but his move to sleep in her bed every night she was away revealed the depth of those feelings he didn’t want to show.

As a parent, you know you’re on to a good thing when you child asks for more and G has already asked if we can apply for her to go again next year if at all possible. Her enthusiasm about her experience has bubbled over and infected the whole family with M now having everything firmly crossed that his application for a place on the August Health Challenges Camp is successful. That would see him having those same opportunities to enjoy as G in an environment that we can be confident will be safe for him as there are medical volunteers and 1-to-1 support for the chronically ill children. Even better, the children have decided to make OTW the focus of their fundraising efforts during National Eosinophil Awareness Week this May. The one thing I haven’t mentioned is that these camps are offered completely free to those children who attend, making them truly accessible to all, which is a really fantastic part of this charity. Any funds that G and M can raise will help make a huge difference to others like them and if you’d like to make a small donation, you can do so via this link or the button on the right, with our thanks.

Day 4: Development, both physical and emotional

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The last 12 months have seen many changes in M. Some were the physical ones we were hoping for – improved health, weight gain and his symptoms disappearing – and some were an unexpected bonus on an emotional level. When I offered to write the article for PINNT, it was important for me to discuss with M whether he was happy for me to talk openly and honestly about our experiences. Both he and G know that I have been writing my blog for the last 3 years and are fully aware that I protect their anonymity throughout my writing. This article was going to be something very different as I would be using our real names and providing photos of M to be included in the magazine. To my surprise, not only did he give me the go-ahead, but he also asked if he could jump on the family writing bandwagon and include his own thoughts about his year with a NG-tube. For me this showed a real development in his attitude about his EGID, one that reflected a maturity I had seen growing since the tube was passed in 2014. From producing his video for National Eosinophilic Awareness week last May to the multiple presentations at his school and now this eagerness to share his opinions, M has started to grow up and slowly come to terms with the reality of his life with a chronic illness. This is what he had to say:

Living on EN – The patient’s perspective (child)

My name is M, I’m 9 years old and this Christmas will have had my NG-tube for a year. My Mum and Dad and my doctor made the decision for me to have a tube because so many foods were having to be taken out of my diet because I have EGID (Eosinophilic Gastro-Intestinal Disease) and multiple food allergies. When I first found out that I was going to have a NG-tube, I felt upset because I didn’t think that the tube was going to make me feel better and I was very worried that I would be teased at school about it.

The first 8 weeks were very difficult as I felt angry and had several melt-downs as I got used to my tube. Christmas was tough because I couldn’t eat anything and I missed having turkey, Christmas pudding and mince pies. I was jealous that my friends and family were able to eat as I really enjoyed eating lots of foods. When I had my birthday a couple of months later, my Mum made me a special cake out of polystyrene cakes and decorated it to match my Cluedo-themed party. My friends thought it was brilliant and the best thing is I got to keep the cake!

At school, all of my friends are very supportive, they don’t tease me and now don’t seem to notice it. Some say they have even forgotten what I look like without it! Last summer, my classmates decided to wear a 2.5kg backpack for the morning so that they could understand exactly what I go through each day. The whole class did it as well as our teacher and the other teaching assistants.

Twelve months on, I feel much better both emotionally and health-wise. During the first few weeks I didn’t feel very sure about how I would cope, but now I feel confident about having it in. I would still prefer not to have it, but I don’t mind it so much. The first few tube changes were hard, but I’ve become an expert and can now have my tube changed in less than 5 minutes – I even take my old tube out myself.

If I had to give some advice to another child about to have a tube, I would say don’t worry because it’s not as bad as you think it will be. You can do practically anything with it and it will help you feel a lot better in the long-run. My tube doesn’t stop me doing anything and in the last year I have continued to play my cello, performed in a dance display and have even been given my first modelling job.

NEAW 2015 – The Round-up

NEAW 2015 – The final day

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This has been the hardest day’s blog to write. Inspiration has been lacking and I just couldn’t think of what to write about on the subject of “Engage“. In an attempt to stir my creative juices, I looked again at the many daily updates, photos, videos and statistics I’ve been seeing, reading and “liking” all week, posted by many fellow EGID families on their FB pages, all in an attempt to raise awareness of the illness. It was as I was browsing that I started to notice that many of them began, almost apologetically, with words to the effect that they were sorry to be bombarding their FB friends with these regular informational posts on the subject, but that it would be for this one week only.

That’s when it struck me. This week, 7 days from May 17th to 23rd, I and tens of other EGID families here in the UK and across the world have been fighting hard to raise awareness of this illness that impacts our lives; and we’ve been apologising for it. We’ve been grateful that we have been able to engage with our audience this week and we’ve almost promised to give it a rest until NEAW 2016 rolls around. BUT the reality of EGID for us is that we don’t get that break. We don’t get the chance to focus on it for one week only and then go back to the daily grind of school runs, workloads and running the home. This is it. It’s not even just a year-long commitment, but a life-long one and there’s no escape. I can’t shut down my computer and ignore the posts. I can’t groan inwardly, grit my teeth and ride the week out, thankful that the 24th will soon be here and then breathe a huge sigh of relief that that’s it done for another year. I don’t have that privilege.

The reason the EGID community has been trying so hard to engage with you this week is the people in our lives who struggle with this rare condition on a daily basis: our superheroes. Their strength and courage in facing adversity is awesome and their brave smiles bring inspiration at the most difficult of times.

My reasons for engagement are summed up beautifully here by my 2 amazing children:

and with that, there really is nothing more to say.

Our thanks go to…

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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!

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 and 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, who 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. And 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 ~~some~~…~~many~~…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!

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A for Awareness has meant:

This… and this…

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…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.

Changing Attitudes – NEAW 2015

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Last week I took part in the Diabetes blog week and looked at my changing attitude to my T1D over the past 3 decades as well as changes I hope will happen in the future. My plea for improved education about T1D vs. T2D is closely linked to my longing for increased awareness about EGID and has resulted in my efforts to bring the focus of family, friends and our local community to the subject through local media coverage and social media this week.

During a music break in my recent radio interview, the presenter asked me an interesting question: whether I’m upset when people misunderstand EGID? We had been discussing off-air the fact that there is often recognition of the food allergies side of the illness, rather than the disease itself and whilst I understand that allergies are something easy for people to understand, I’m frustrated that that’s what gets people interested in finding out more. I pondered his question for a while and once the session was over was able to give him my honest answer: No. I’m not upset that people misunderstand EGID because I’m usually impressed that they know something about it. The truth is that they must have heard of EGID in the first place to be capable of misunderstanding this complex disease and therein lies the problem. Ignorance of EGID and the unseen effects it has on individual and family alike means that those of us living with it are sadly often viewed as making it all up or wildly exaggerating the severity. That attitude can leave a family feeling very alone at a time when emotional and practical support is needed most.

This is what today’s C is all about – Changing Attitudes.

The truth about EGID is this: It’s not just about the food allergies, that’s the easy bit to understand and, in many ways, the easiest bit to live with. It’s about much, much more than that. It’s about the unexplained joint aches, the never-ending tummy cramps, the relentless feelings of nausea or reflux whenever you eat. The dark shadows under the eyes, the manic mood swings, the overwhelming lethargy, or the inability to fall asleep and stay that way. The damaged bowel, the fear of not being near enough to a toilet whenever you need one, or knowing that you’ll never get there in time anyway. The fear of your friends making fun of your allergies or finding out that you’re still wearing a pull-up because your bowel can’t be relied on when you most need it to. The daily medicines, restricted diets and the feeding tubes. The chronic pain that can reduce you to tears, yet you don’t complain because nothing helps, even when it’s at its worst and you’re familiar with just about every pain chart created in the history of man.

It’s about getting used to these things as being normal, or not even realising they’re not.

And it affects the whole family, not just the one with the diagnosis. The endless merry-go-round of numerous hospital appointments, medicines to be taken and food to be cooked safely, avoiding cross-contamination at all costs is exhausting. The keeping of meticulous daily records of food eaten and symptoms experienced to try to find a link and make sense of what’s going on, and dealing with the self-recrimination when you miss a day out because what if that was the one that would give you more answers? Day trips, meals out, holidays all require military precision to organise and every decision is coloured by whether needs can be met or not. The feelings of isolation, for parent and sibling alike, because it’s frequently the case that there is no-one else nearby who has the same experiences or can truly understand. The lack of any conversation that doesn’t revolve around toileting and being too worn out to come up with an alternative subject. The sense that I, as the parent, know more about the intricacies of my son’s chronic illness than any medical professional we meet along the way and the frightening realisation that my children know infinitely more than them too.

It’s about the heartbreak of holding my sobbing child at 3am, tears streaming down my own cheeks as I struggle to find the words to bring the comfort that nothing else can bring at that moment in time.

At our recent admission at GOSH, one of the gastro consultants told me that it is widely recognised that children with gastro conditions have the worst quality of life of any child living with a chronic illness. EGID is an invisible illness, one where the individual frequently learns to hide, disguise and survive their struggles and just carries on regardless, accepting this life as their norm. Families supporting a loved one with EGID often feel isolated – not just from their circle of friends, but from the medical community, who know little about it and may question the integrity of the very people who are fighting to get the best care they possibly can. It’s not a parental fad about food allergies or an over-anxious Mum fussing about the small things; and it’s definitely not a figment of anyone’s imagination. The effects of EGID can be cruel to experience and devastating to see. So a change in attitudes is not only important, but a necessity for all those living with this diagnosis.

Now you know a little more about EGID and just how it impacts, take some time to think about how you can support those you know living with this disease. Don’t think that there’s nothing you can do to help. An offer of a cup of tea once the school-run is over, a home-cooked meal for the parent not in hospital or checking to see if there’s anything they need from the shops is more than enough. No gesture is too small: a smile, a text message or even a FB like or comment on Twitter will let that family know that they’re in your thoughts and that there is hope for change in the future.

7 years to diagnosis

Searching for an answer