Tag Archives: teachers

A Survival Guide For School & Allergies

The end of August always seems to be something of a surprise in our household. We arrive home from our holiday feeling relaxed and calm and then almost immediately face a madcap race to reach the finish line of shoes bought, uniform named, PE kits found and bags packed before school starts. In years past I have also had to make sure provisions are packed, discussions had and medical notes updated for M, but, for the first time ever, this year I wasn’t trying to squeeze in a critical meeting alongside my own new start with a new job. img_11331I know that next year when M moves up to our local secondary school it will be a very different picture, but after 3 years of working with the teaching community at our junior school, and with no major changes to contend with, M was able to start in Year 6 without this over-anxious Mum hovering in the background.

Without a doubt we have been incredibly lucky with the amazing support given by the fantastic teaching staff at our local school, but we have also had more than our fair share of bad experiences and teachers who don’t care in the past and I can well remember the anxieties and hours of meticulous planning that heralded the start of every new school year. The novelty of not having to head into the classroom before the end of M’s first week back has still not worn off and I’m certain that it’s thanks to the hard work that’s been put in on all sides to formulate strategies that meet M’s needs and to develop a strong working relationship between home and school that is reliant on open communication that flows both ways.

Over the last few weeks, there’s be a lot of chatter in the online allergy community about the fears that surround the milestone of starting school and, with over 8 years of “parenting-a-school-child-with-allergies” experience under my belt, I’ve been asked what tips I would give to any parent facing this situation for the first time. In all honesty, M’s first few years at school were difficult and certainly not the positive experience we would have liked. We had to deal with a SENCo, who trivialised his allergies because they “…wouldn’t have to call 999 if he ate something he shouldn’t…” and refused to recognise how important it was to communicate his allergies and health issues to any member of staff dealing with him and not just his class teacher, which led to numerous occasions of him being offered food he couldn’t eat. His teachers lost their focus in teaching him because they felt he already had a lot to cope with with his regular appointments at GOSH and his education suffered as speech impediments, dyslexia and dyspraxia were missed by those who worked with him on a day-to-day basis.

Fast-forward to the start of Year 3 and all our negative experiences became a thing of the past. The year actually began at the end of Year 2, when I met with the Head, SENCo and class teacher of his new school to discuss all of M’s health and educational needs and worked with them to put practical solutions into place before the term started. They understood the value of seeing him as more than just his EGID and food allergies, circle-timebut also knew that his health problems were a big part of his everyday life and couldn’t be ignored. At the end of his first week there, M’s teacher held a circle time in class where she shared about M’s ill-health and restricted diet with his classmates. It was done in such a nurturing and non-confrontational manner that by the end of the session M was willing to answer any question that his new friends had about what they had been told himself and has being doing so ever since.

fabed1The information sheets that I had provided were given to the teachers and, combined with the notes they had taken whilst talking with me, used to draw up a healthcare plan for M that covered all possible situations. His on-going bowel control problems were sensitively handled and a contingency plan put in place to ensure that he always has access to a toilet wherever he is in the school. The HCP was written by the school SENCo and then sent home for my review before being published, shared with the whole teaching team and displayed prominently in the staff-room. Even better, every year since then I have been asked to review and amend his HCP to reflect any medical changes that have happened and the school continue to be sympathetic to his needs.

SAM_1175As for his swap box, it has proved to be an invaluable tool in the classroom setting and is something that is really easy to implement. The idea behind the swap box is a simple one – it contains a selection of safe items, be they edible or non-edible, that can be swapped for those unexpected treats that sometimes come into the classroom to celebrate birthdays or other special events. When M’s swap box came into being, it was filled with a mix of Haribo sweets and the odd Lego minifigure and the choice was his as to what he chose to take. Since going elemental 2 years ago, the box now contains Lego, trading cards and other fun small toys and ensures that M never feels that he is missing out when his friends celebrate. What’s more, his teachers have taken inspiration from it for their own purchases of small gifts at Christmas or the end of term and given him something he can enjoy.

I think the biggest secret to our great experience with our Junior school is communication. The lines of communication are always open and actively work in both directions between home and school through meetings, phone calls, e-mails and the home/school book. The willingness of so many of the school staff to learn to support M to the best of their ability has created a level of trust unlike any other and means that I am ea544311f5697d6334b2df7079ccedf9happy to leave M in their more than capable hands on a daily basis. It is a testament to their dedication to their work that, in the last 3 years, the only things that have caused an extended absence from school have been the annual hospital admissions at GOSH. They have always endeavoured to make sure that M is safe whilst at school and the fact that he was able to attend as normal with both his NG feeding tube and his broken leg is incredible. A truly remarkable relationship has grown over the years between our family and so many of the teachers and is something I really value.

They have also nurtured and encouraged M to talk about his allergies and EGID and have shown continued support as he has become an advocate for educating others about his illness. M has held cake sales, run playground games and created short films explaining the impact his diagnosis has on his life. He has developed a confidence in talking to others and 18 months ago was able to answer the questions asked by members of home-school-connectionevery class in the school. When he left his Infants school, he was a child reluctant to talk about his food allergies or hospital appointments because he was scared of being isolated and bullied because of how different he was to everyone else. These days he has an incredibly strong friendship group who look out for him during school hours and think about him when he’s had to be in hospital, and he never thinks twice to share what’s going on with his friends.

If I had to sum it up, I guess I would say this:

Be open, be honest, be available. Keep communicating and tell them how they can make it better if you need to. Do what you can to help them out and don’t forget to say thank you when they get it right.

So, how is your leg now?

“Still broken!”

That question has been directed a lot at both M and me over the last couple of weeks and yes, I’m afraid that is the answer we’ve almost flippantly begun to give in reply. As we head into our 8th week of a left leg in plaster, the initial pain and shock that gradually gave way to the novelty of the cast has all but disappeared and we are now well and truly into the “fed-up of it all and ready to move on” stage of his recuperation. M has borne the last 8 weeks with the fortitude and strength of spirit that we have come to expect of our youngest. They haven’t been the easiest, but he continues to persevere at finding the best in any given situation and whilst there has been the inevitable tears of frustration and angst, there have also been moments full of laughter and jokes and M’s unparalleled sense of humour. IMG_0308[1]With hopefully only another 2 weeks or so to go until the leg might finally reappear from underneath the protective plaster, I thought it about time I give you all a proper update.

After 10 days in the plain white, full-length, backslab cast with squishy top, M was upgraded to a lightweight, rock-hard, full-length cast in camouflage just as he had decided on that very first night in our local A&E. Fortunately, the green camouflage plaster ran out after img_03921M’s leg was finished, rather than before, although that day’s orthopaedic technician did offer him the alternative of pink camouflage with sparkles whilst she was checking that stock levels were enough to cover his entire leg. 6 weeks later, and following regular fortnightly fracture clinic appointments with x-rays, the bone growth was considered enough to move M to a sarmiento cast – something we’d never heard of and instantly googled the moment it was first mentioned to us. This cast reaches up over M’s knee at the front, but below it at the back, enabling him to freely bend his leg without allowing it to twist. This is particularly important for M as he has a spiral fracture of his tibia, which needs time to fully heal correctly. Upon hearing his newest cast would need to be in place for at least 4 weeks,IMG_0479[1] M requested a “70s Disco” theme for reasons that will later become clear, and believe me when I say that the bright orange and neon yellow stripes with added silver glitter certainly meets his somewhat unusual brief.

From a medical viewpoint, the fracture is mending well and in the latest set of x-rays we could clearly see the new bone growth that has formed. The latest orthopaedic consultant was fantastic and not only explained what was going on, but pointed it all out on the x-ray for M and me to see too, which meant that we both had a clear understanding of what he was talking about. M’s GOSH consultant and dietician have raised a concern over M’s bone density and health given the severity of this break and his previously broken arm, and have requested that a DEXA scan is carried out at our local hospital to check that all is as it should be. We are very much aware that the delay in reaching a diagnosis, the initial concerns about malabsorption issues during his early years and the subsequent increasing restrictions to his diet could have compromised the levels of both calcium and vitamin D in his bones. Hopefully this scan will reveal the current situation and indicate what additional steps should now be followed to improve his bone health.

Unsurprisingly, the shock of the break on his body caused an unwelcome flare of his EGID at the most inconvenient of times and the combination of flare and his necessary immobility meant that we took some massive steps backwards in terms of his general and bowel health in those first few weeks following the accident. As a result of this, all food challenges have had to be put on hold for the foreseeable future until we can regain the status quo we had worked so hard to achieve in the last few months. Coming so soon after we had finally recovered from the challenges of his December GOSH admission, this has been something of a bitter pill to swallow for us all, but M remains upbeat about the situation and continues to plan his upcoming hit-list of possible food contenders with gusto. This relapse has reminded us of just how precarious the balance is when it comes to M’s health and just how easily he can be tipped into a downwards spiral.

Naturally, the hardest impact of a broken leg has been the inability to move around freely, which for my very active lad has been absolute torture. Progress has been slow, but M has worked hard at each level meaning that he is finally beginning to master the set of crutches he was given when his cast was changed to a sarmiento one. The first 2 or 3 weeks saw M use almost exclusively a wheelchair to get from place to place, something that was only possible thanks to the British Red Cross, who lend wheelchairs on a 6-week basis for a small voluntary donation. This is an invaluable service, especially as the hospital wasn’t able to give us one and it has made going to school so much easier than it might otherwise have been. We quickly introduced a walker – think miniature Zimmer frame – to him too and the ability to use his walker to travel short distances as well as climb up and down stairs was key to his discharge from our local hospital after the break. Once the initial anxiety about re-hurting his leg disappeared, M has adapted to his one-leg status remarkably well and can move at astonishing speeds both on his walker and shuffling along on his bottom when the occasion demands. IMG_0506[1]The crutches have taken longer to adjust to, not least because M now needs to start putting some weight on to his leg, something he has been very reluctant to do. We finally seem to be breaking through that last mental barrier as he builds his confidence by beginning to stand unaided, though his walker is always close on hand should he need it.

Poor M has been forced to miss out on a number of activities as a result of his leg, though whenever possible, we have worked hard to involve him as much as we can. The first and biggest disappointment was that he was unable to act in a touring stage production at a regional theatre, something he loves to do and had been looking forward to for weeks. However, never one to let life get him down for too long, M insisted on going to watch the play instead as some of his friends were also involved and the production company kindly arranged for him to meet some of the other cast members following the performance. He did spend a lot of time talking about what he should have been doing, but his love for the theatre and the strength of his friendships saw him enjoy the afternoon regardless.

He also had to cope with his school’s Health and Fitness Week, where lessons are more or less put on hold whilst a number of visiting instructors as well as the staff introduce each class to a number of new sports activities. M was nominated “class photographer” and enjoyed spending his time cheering his friends on as well as capturing the week on film. His favourite activity turned out to be wheelchair basketball, booked months before but ironically apt for him and he has expressed an interest to training with the wheelchair basketball squad – once his leg is better! The end of that week culminated with school sports day and sadly, despite refusing to let his tube stop him participating last year, M’s leg made it impossible this. However, his fantastic school made sure he didn’t feel left out and he took charge of ringing the bell between events as well as announcing the scores throughout the morning. I am so grateful yet again that we have such an amazing school that has supported us all through the ups and downs of M’s 3 years with them. IMG_0439[1]He has not missed a single day of school due to his broken leg, other than for necessary appointments and that is due to the willingness of the Headteacher and his teaching team to accommodate M’s needs in a safe way and involve him in the classroom as best they can.

Nor has being confined to a wheelchair stopped M’s extra-curricular activities, even if it might have limited them somewhat. He has continued with his weekly cello lessons at school, again thanks to a fantastic music teacher who has worked around his worries and allowed him to either play his cello or hone his oral skills as he has chosen. We experimented at home until we found the most comfortable position for him to be in to practice his instrument and he has been encouraged to take part in the school music concert in a couple of weeks time. As for the “70s disco” theme plaster, this specific request is because he, G and the rest of their IMG_0499[1]Stagecoach school are performing a 70s tribute routine in a local carnival parade in the middle of June. He has once again been to every Stagecoach session this term, and so have I, and knows both the songs and the dance routine by heart, even though dancing it has been an impossibility. There is every chance that his cast may actually be off his leg by the time the parade happens, but we wanted to show wiling and be prepared “just in case”. Given the length of the parade route, M will unfortunately still be restricted to his wheelchair as his leg won’t be strong enough to walk its length, but we have some other suitably funky 70s ideas in mind to pimp both his costume and his wheelchair to fit the party vibe!

Our thanks go to…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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