PROLOGUE: On this final hour of ALS Awareness Month, I wanted to re-post this blog I was blessed to write for our friends at Functional Formularies. Even though May is designated as ALS Awareness Month, for every family living with (or who has lived with) ALS, every minute of every day is a time they are painfully aware of this still incurable disease. ALS doesn't take time off. It's a relentless, still uncontrable force rhat rips and shreds its way through the very fabric of a family. The story below is our story. Every victim of ALS has a different story with commen themes. We honor the plight of every afflicted individual and their families. This may be our story but there are thousands of stories like ours - and thousands more that are different,with the exception of thc common foe. We offer our story for one reason: to offer hope that there's a fight to be had. If you have a family fighting ALS in your town, visit or call them and ask what you might do to help. It might be as simple as mowing a lawn or even sitting and holding a hand.
I should have died in 2009. And I probably would have if I'd listened to the Neurologist at St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Boston. If we had taken his words to heart. Taken them as fact, rather than an educated guess, I'd be dead. If I had let his words "I'd say you have 18 - 24 months to live" soak into my brain like a toxic chemical spill on pristine marshland, I'd be dead. But, in the parking lot outside the hospital on that cold December day, Linda and I made a pact that we wouldn't let the words of any man, regardless of his scholarly pedigree, dictate the rest of our lives.
I'd be dead if we had followed the course of action of my first Neurologist here in Maine: "There's nothing I can do until you're faced with the choice of going on a ventilator.." he said, at what would our final meeting (although, he didn't know that).
When we told friends and family about my diagnosis the reactions ranged from "What's ALS?" to "Well, you'd better get your affairs in order fast.". All sincere and heartfelt reactions. But no one offered the one thing we really needed - Hope. Even people at church would say "We will pray for you - but you know, there's reality face too.". No one offered the kind of Hope that we felt in our bones. We lean on the Biblical definition of Hope. Not as wishful thinking, but as the confident expectation of something good. Again, if we'd have received those dismal thoughts and adopted those attitudes as our own, I'd probably be dead.
It wasn't until we found the ALS Multidisciplinary Clinic at Mass General Hospital (MGH), that we interacted with mainstream clinicians who were on the same "Hope Track" as us. During our first meeting with this amazing team, the male Nurse who was doing the intake and verifying medical history, told us "We're here to help you LIVE with ALS.". He was taken aback when we both choked up. We had finally found our second home.
In spite of the dire prognosis we'd received in 2007, my disease progressed slowly. Although I lost functional speech in 2010, I was able to eat by mouth all along. A major focus during my quarterly visits to the MGH Clinic was maintaining body weight or even increasing it. Multiple studies have shown that pALS (persons with ALS) have a longer life expectancy if they maintain a slightly higher than ideal body weight. By the summer of 2012, my ability to eat at a near normal pace became more of a challenge. I was keeping meticulous track of my daily caloric intake using the MyFitnesPal app on my iPad. I was taking in at or above 2600 calories a day, but by Christmas of 2012, I was spending most of my waking hours just eating. It was time to talk about a feeding tube.
Our next ALS Clinic appointment was in January of 2013. The decision to undergo the feeding tube procedure was confirmed by the team at MGH and was scheduled for later that month. I had the surgery with just a local and some Valium. We had gone to school on the experiences of pALS who had undergone the procedure under general anesthesia. Too many, for our comfort, had extended post-operative stays and even complications.
After an overnight stay, to ensure the tube was operating well and for a "Feeding Tubes 101" crash course from a Nurse, we were home with s case of commercial formula. Being novices to enteral feeding, we never questioned whether there were alternative choices. We trusted the hospital dietician's choice. A mistake we wouldn't make again.
Within a week, I started having severe gastrointestinal issues. Over the three months to follow, I would make four trips to the local ER. We heard varying opinions from the local clinicians, from the popular "You'll just need to make friends with it." to "Its just the disease progression." We we're back at that place of no Hope.
Linda is always thinking. Always reading and communicating with other caregivers. She ran across information on a small company from Ohio making a formula called "Liquid Hope". Now, we're people of faith. We'd seen God move on our behalf before and had no doubt this was another sign from above. We emailed Robin Gentry McGee, Founder of Functional Formularies the company from Ohio, spoke to our visiting Nurse who, after reading the ingredient list, was very supportive of trying this. Finally, after 3 months of gathering insurance referrals from Doctors (my PCP and Neurologist by now trusted that we had done our research and were very supportive) and making the case to my insurance, they approved the move to Liquid Hope.
It took only a few days to feel the difference. Gastrointestinal issues disappeared. The grogginess I experienced on the sugar laden formulas went away. As a matter of fact, i had a renewed sense of energy. During our next visit to MGH, I had gained back 5 lbs. over the three years I've. Even using Liquid Hope as my sole source of nutrition my blood work has been perfect and I've maintained my weight 185 lbs. We believe it's saved my life. .
When I say it's saved my life, it's not hyperbole and I not trying to sell anyone the idea of following mg path. But we DO know that, had we listened to the long list of voices who spoke of my imminent demise were wrong. They were wrong, at least in part, because we refused to receive their words.
Yes, I should be dead. But I'm not. I'm celebrating the ninth ALS Awareness Month since my diagnosis. Not in spite of the many people who heard the acronym "ALS" and translated it as "death sentence". We're convinced I'm here because those voices became irrelevant to our daily lives and we've made informed decisions, like the decision to change to Liquid Hope.
But mostly, I'm here because my body and soul are being nourished by the word we've become associated with - Hope.
No matter what trials you face, There's always Hope.
