Tag Archives: NationalEosinophilicAwarenessWeek

NEAW 2017 – The journey continues

NEAW 2017 is drawing to a close, but for those of us living with EGID the journey doesn’t stop here. Everyday will continue to involve taking a number of medicines, examining food labels, careful food preparation, monitoring symptoms and hoping that the next day will be even better. Small hiccups might become major hurdles to leap, or may pass by almost unnoticed as we breathe a sigh of relief that they didn’t become something more. Parents will continue to find last-minute solutions to unexpected activities at school, plan trips out with military precision and pull together paperwork, photos and lists of symptoms to take to the next hospital appointment. We will comfort our children whatever their battle, be their most ardent cheerleaders and be prepared to tackle anything and everything to get them the very best healthcare and support. Despite the increasing uncertainty about the EGID diagnosis, we will continue to raise awareness and, more importantly, we will never stop believing in our children.

This is the short film G and M made 2 years ago to explain EGID to their classmates. Whilst M does not have his feeding tube any more, the message is as clear now as it was then and I wanted to share it again:

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.

NEAW2017 – Resilience

4 Replies

Resilience: the ability to become strong, healthy or successful again after something bad happens.

What an amazing quality to possess and one that we’d all to like to develop, especially when times are tougher than we ever imagined they could be. Without a shadow of doubt, the EGID diagnosis has forced us all – and by us, I don’t just mean our family, but all those families living with EGID – to become incredibly resilient, even when we’re dealing with bad situations that have nothing to do with this illness itself. During last year’s NEAW, I wrote about being an EGID Mum and the heartbreak that I had been struggling with because of M’s broken leg and the lost opportunities that resulted from it. This year, the current uncertainty surrounding the validity of the EGID label has once again pushed Mike and me to our limits as we grapple with the challenge of managing the health of our child, physical and mental, whilst also dealing with the unavoidable “elephant in the room” of that unanswerable question mark about his diagnosis whenever we attend gastro appointments that seem to try and avoid using EGID as a valid reason for his current struggles. We are not the only parents who find themselves in this position as conversations amongst our EGID friends and extended family show.

Life has taught me to be resilient, to be a strong woman who’s not afraid to face up to whatever is thrown at me, even if sometimes I need to pause and take breath before I can fully deal with it all. It sometimes feels as if I’ve been put through more than most: my T1D diagnosis on my 9th birthday, losing my Dad before he had a chance to get to know my children and the threat of further sight loss last Christmas; and yet somehow I’ve managed to find my way through it all. As a family we’ve certainly had more than our fair share of chronic illnesses to contend with – T1D, EGID, Cancer, Parkinson’s, MS, Alzheimer’s disease to name a few – but they’ve taught us all one thing: that we can survive. In fact we can do more than survive, we can still have positive, purposeful lives and can definitely live and enjoy life to the full.

As a Mum, I’m proud to see the resilience that my children are building themselves, even though it is heartbreaking to realise the reasons they’ve needed to develop this character trait so early on. But their unquestionable resilience to life’s challenges, doesn’t mean that they are immune to the insensitive, hurtful and thoughtless comments of others as became patently obvious this week. M is going through a tough patch right now and we don’t really know why. We expected the anxiety of his SATS last week to affect his gastro health and returned to his simple 6-food diet to try to reduce the stresses on his body. This week has seen a real relapse in many of his symptoms and we’re struggling to see the light at the end of this immediate tunnel. I know, in that way that Mums do, that this change in events was playing on his mind, but I didn’t realise just how much until yesterday.

Yesterday, we were talking about his school year group and in particular, the jokes and insults currently being traded amongst the Year 6 boys. I reminded him that he needed to ignore those comments as best he could and instead focus on the strengths of his friendships and the fun they’re now having that SATS are finally out of the way. It was then that he paused in reflection before saying:

“…I know Mummy, which is why I’m sure X was making it up when he said that his Mum had said that she’s sick of seeing me in the local paper all time because I haven’t been and anyways, I don’t think that his Mum would have said that….would she…?”

I had to take a moment to compose my own thoughts before giving a careful and considered reply because I knew that the very fact that he had mentioned it to me meant that he was more bothered by this seemingly throwaway comment that he wanted to admit. In all honesty, I can’t answer why that Mum said that, though I can make some intelligent assumptions behind her reasoning and am certain that she never expected her child to come into school and say it directly to my son. It just shows that we need to be careful about what we say to, and in front of, our children and encourage them to be kind in their words to others.

I reminded M that our intentions are good. We’re actively trying to raise some much-needed awareness about EGID and that the annual fundraising events that he’s held at school have been the result of us proactively asking to organise them. I’m not ashamed to speak out loud about a condition that impacts us every day and I don’t want M to feel that he needs to hide the reality of what he goes through. However, he also knows he can share as much or as little as he chooses about his daily life and that there will never be pressure from us to do more than he’s comfortable with doing.

We’re lucky. Having spoken out loud to me, and then later to Mike, about this comment, M has forgotten all about it and has happily got on with the rest of his week. His ability to bounce back after a ill-considered remark that obviously cut deep is admirable and truly reflects the resilient young man he is growing up to be. Today both children have proudly gone into school wearing an element of pink to raise awareness amongst their friends. M’s “Dress up as your hero or superhero” day for Over The Wall is currently under way and he was excited to see what his friends would be wearing – he has gone as his very own hero, Ryan (the doughnut man) from Borough22. Most of all, we’ve all done our bit this week to show this disease just how resilient we are and I’m proud to acknowledge that many in the global EGID community have done so too.

NEAW 2017 – Wings to fly

3 Replies

As a parent, one of the biggest challenges you face is helping your child grow in self-confidence, develop independence and to ultimately give them the wings they need to fly away from the security of the family home. There are so many obstacles to overcome along the way and when a chronic illness is thrown into the mix, it can feel almost impossible to let your child take those first steps on their own. Our determination to not let EGID define either child means that every day is an opportunity to let go of our own anxieties and concerns, and encourage them to make their own decisions regardless of the limitations that health, medicine and diet place on them. Of course, much as we work to equip G and M with the skills they’ll need as they grow up, I know that they need to learn so much more than what Mike and I can teach them on our own and so we always look for any opportunity to develop their learning from experiences that are beyond our ability to give.

That’s why once again this year, I completed the application forms for both G and M to attend the fantastic camps offered by charity, Over The Wall, knowing that their respective weeks away from home will be all about friendship and understanding and being amongst equals and building self-esteem and so, so much more. When G came home from the South Siblings Camp last year, she was a different child to the one who had left us just 5 days before. The time spent with others who have a similar home life to her was invaluable as she realised that her life experiences didn’t isolate her in those circumstances; and the focus on her and making sure that she had the best time she could helped G to find a self-worth that she had been struggling to develop at home and at school. Likewise, M had what could only be described as the best week ever as he was able to spend a week away from home without family for the first time in his life. He tried his hand at activities that had terrified him before and he too found great comfort in the realisation that he is not on his own in his health challenges.

We were all delighted when G heard she had a place at this year’s Siblings Camp and we couldn’t wait to hear all about her adventures there as a Green Girl. From the moment I dropped her off with some familiar faces, including the unexpected, but much welcome presence of G’s buddy from the GOSH YPF who was volunteering for the very first time, I knew that she was destined for another great week. Their unfailing attention to detail and care for the young people they were responsible for during the camp was impressive. We received a phone-call on the second night to say that whilst G was having an amazing time, she was struggling with the “fancy” gluten- and dairy-free food that the chefs were lovingly preparing for her and wasn’t really eating as much as they would like. A quick catch-up to understand G’s food preferences and the reassurance that they would continue to keep an eye on her was all I needed to be certain that their care was absolutely everything I could want it to be.

M, Mike and I were all able to make the journey to pick G up at the end of her week away and were all immersed in the joy that is the camp bubble of OTW for the short time that we were there. Our Green Girl had tried her hand at most things, exceeded her own limitations and came away with a much-deserved pride in her achievements. This photo of a beaming G at the top of the climbing wall reflects her determination to overcome her self-proclaimed fear of heights and the pride she felt when she surpassed what she managed last year to achieve: more than she had ever believed herself capable of doing. Unlike the previous year, when she had been reluctant to take part in the Talent show, this time round, she went prepared with a routine she’s been working on during her school dance club and performed with a confidence and grace that reaped an impressive number of compliments as well as moving her YPF buddy to tears with her passion for her dance. G became good friends with several in her team and has been keeping in contact with them in the weeks following camp. She has developed a confidence and willingness to take on new challenges, knowing that, with a little bit of self-belief and perseverance, no mountain is too big for her to conquer.

It is thanks to Over The Wall that my children are becoming all that they can be and are learning that chronic illness doesn’t have to be a hurdle to anything they want to do. Over The Wall truly gives both our children wings to fly and our thanks just don’t seem to be enough.

NEAW 2017 – His illness does not define him

1 Reply

Our life experiences influence our view of the world that surrounds us. Good or bad, everything we do or see or hear or learn will affect our outlook on life, on whether we become individuals who see that hypothetical glass as being half-full or half-empty and how we react to our interpretation of that reality. When you’re growing up with a chronic illness as your one constant companion, it can come as no surprise that that condition begins to shape the person you become and the relationships you have with the rest of the world.

Rightly or wrongly, I have encouraged M to embrace his EGID diagnosis and become an advocate for himself and others living with it. M is, without a doubt, so much more than this disease and yet it is an integral part of the young man he is growing up to be. Our local gastro team are keen that M doesn’t view himself as a “sick kid”, that he doesn’t let his diagnosis stop him doing whatever he wants to do or being what he wants to be and those aims sit well with our approach to helping him cope with it all. However, I can’t and won’t agree to ignoring the reality of his life – the numerous hospital appointments, admissions and procedures; the daily medicines; the restricted diet and 12 months with a NG-tube mean that he is not like his friends, like other kids his age. In the last year alone, M has been seen at our local hospital over a dozen times and that does not make him the same as the rest of his classmates. Despite everyone’s best efforts, 2 and a half years after that first feeding tube was placed, M still only eats 6 safe foods on a regular basis and that makes him stand out from the crowd, not just at school, but at every activity or event he attends. He is, in all truth, a “sick kid”, but that label does not sum up who he is as an individual.

No matter what the medics suggest, I can’t pretend that all those experiences didn’t happen to him, to us as a family, but I will endeavour to make sure that M’s illness is not all that defines him.

Yes, he’s a child who cannot eat the same as his friends; but he can eat out and enjoy food with them.

Yes, he’s a child who lives with constant pain; but he has learned to ignore it and overcome it and achieve despite it.

Yes, he’s a child who spends too much time in hospital at medical appointments; but he is developing a confidence to question and understand and advocate for himself.

Yes, he’s had experiences that most adults I know would struggle with; but he has developed tremendous courage and an increasing self-worth in who he is as an individual.

The truth is that, just as my 30+ years with T1D has shaped the woman I’ve grown up to be, M’s life has been, and will continue to be, affected by his EGID diagnosis. We cannot pretend that the difficult times haven’t happened, we can’t airbrush them out of our family history and it would be doing a disservice to the fortitude and bravery of both my children if we tried to do so. They are so much more than the sum of their parts and whilst EGID has an unquestionable influence on the individuals G and M are becoming, it absolutely does not define either of them in their entirety, and nor will we ever let it.

NEAW 2017 – Living with the unknown

5 Replies

2017 marks our 5^th 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.

Giving fair warning

Day 4: Development, both physical and emotional

1 Reply

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

1 Reply

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…

3 Replies

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.

7 years to diagnosis

Searching for an answer

Tag Archives: NationalEosinophilicAwarenessWeek

NEAW 2017 – The journey continues

NEAW2017 – Resilience

NEAW 2017 – Wings to fly

NEAW 2017 – His illness does not define him

NEAW 2017 – Living with the unknown

Giving fair warning

Day 4: Development, both physical and emotional

NEAW 2015 – The Round-up

NEAW 2015 – The final day

Our thanks go to…