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Showing posts with label Fundraiser. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fundraiser. Show all posts

Friday, 9 January 2015

AN AMERICAN SUPERSTAR


Across the  miles, in a country I can only but hope to visit one day lives a dear friend. Funnily enough
though we have never met in person.

Lori Thompson Ortega is  my sister from another mister. We first met in an online support group for Cowden's syndrome and over the months I was taken aback by how similar our lives were and continue to be.

Like myself Lori is a breast cancer survivor and diagnosed with Cowden's syndrome. She is also a teacher ( like me), a blogger ( like me) and yes I'm going to say it hard headed, focused and resilient ( like me!). We both have husbands who maybe though short on words have well and truly earned a place in heaven.

I wish the similarities end there but they don't. We both have children who in recent years have been through hell and back with their health. Both kids have had arteriovenous malformations, both have had thyroid issues, both have lost their favourite pet in the last twelve months. Both refuse to let their conditions define them. Meghan swims and does well at school, my daughter is determined to finish her degree.

There is one difference at the moment. Eleven year old Meghan has been diagnosed with Cowden's syndrome but the jury is still out as to whether my daughter also carries the faulty gene.

The story of Meghan Ortega is one of bravery and resilience not usually seen in an eleven year old child. Recently, a newspaper in the States published her story and with her mother's permission, I have suspended my blog this week to bring it to you.

12 SURGERIES IN 11 YEARS; LIVING WITH COWDEN'S SYNDROME

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. -- Meghan Ortega, a Westerleigh sixth-grader, is one of my favorite dental patients and one of my twin daughters' dearest friends.
A graduate of PS 29, Meghan is a Principal's Honor Roll student at Markham Intermediate School in Graniteville. She loves drama, is an avid reader, loves to swim and has a broad smile and sunny disposition.
Meghan also happens to be one of the bravest kids I know. In her 11 years, she has had 12 surgeries. Twelve. She hurts every day, but has learned pain is part of her life.
Meghan has a rare genetic disorder called Cowden's syndrome. Cowden's falls under the umbrella term of PTEN hamartoma tumor syndrome. The PTEN gene, which suppresses tumor growth, malfunctions, resulting in benign and malignant tumors developing all over the body.
Approximately 30 percent of children with genetic disorders die before their fifth birthday, so Meghan is fighting for her life with preventive screenings and surgery.
As her dentist, I saw firsthand one of the oral manifestations of Cowden's syndrome -- a suspicious gingival (gum) growth -- for which I referred her to an oral surgeon for biopsy and excision.
Not once did I ever hear Meghan complain.
The PTEN gene is passed on in an autosomal dominant pattern and is rare, affecting one in 200,000 people. The cancer risks are high; the lifetime breast cancer risk seems to exceed the BRCA risk, and there are significant risks for thyroid, uterine, kidney, skin, colon, and countless other malignancies.
To keep a close eye on the disease and its progression, Meghan sees doctors regularly for preventive screenings -- including biopsies.
But she is just happy that she finally has a diagnosis.
When Meghan was a baby, her parents, Lori and Felix knew something was "not right." She was chronically ill. She suffered with gastrointestinal distress well past her first birthday, and her diet had to be free of gluten, dairy, soy, dyes and preservatives. Her gallbladder was removed when she was 3 years old.
Meghan also had a lipoma taken from her back and her tonsils and adenoids removed. She had to have a complete thyroidectomy because of 19 rapidly growing abnormal nodules on her thyroid gland, three of which were deemed pre-cancerous.
The most notable of the surgical procedures for Meghan's abnormal growths were the five she had to undergo as a result of an AVM (arteriovenous malformation) in her right knee. While AVMs are not exclusive to Cowden's syndrome, there is an increased incidence in the population.
Recently she was hospitalized for a week because the medication that helped control the AVM in her knee caused damage to her GI tract and her esophagus.
She was taken off that medication and is healing, but the pain has returned to her knee.

It is one of the constant smaller battles she fights with side effects of the multiple medications she must take.
Meghan is often at a doctor's office. Barely a week goes by without at least one appointment. She waits like a champion for hours on end, because she is conditioned from years of practice.
Lori, her mom, firmly believes Meghan saved her life -- because of Meghan's diagnosis, she also was tested and confirmed positive for the PTEN gene mutation. She had surgery as well, a prophylactic double mastectomy.
In a world where we often get wrapped up in trivial annoyances, Meghan is an inspiration, a reminder that in the great scheme of things, people all around us are fighting real battles.
Although Meghan has met some great friends along the way, it is often a struggle for her to relate socially to most children, who likely have been to the doctor only once a year their whole lives.
Meghan's experience of living with Cowden's, combined with the food issues, can be isolating for her, realizing early on that talking too much about pain to her peers can also increase the isolation: It is hard for them to relate.
So she threw herself fully into support of other children and adults who have rare diseases, like the one she and her mom share.
She worked with one charity, the Global Genes Project (www.globalgenes.org) soon after she was diagnosed.
Meghan also sought a symbol for those with multiple medical issues and what developed was beautiful: A denim ribbon, a nod to the slogan, "Hope, it's in our Genes."
The first year after her diagnosis, Meghan simply wanted to hand out Denim Ribbons on World Rare Disease Day. The second year, she worked with the Student Council to organize a successful fundraiser at school.
Now, Meghan has struck up a friendship with Borough President James Oddo, who has invited her to Borough Hall several times to talk about ways she can make a difference. He has become her mentor, helping her find her voice.
This year, Meghan has organized a fundraiser to be held Sunday, Feb. 15, at Nicotra's Hilton Garden Inn in Bloomfield, to raise awareness and money for rare diseases. To help others like her, many worse off.
Her goal is to educate everyone about rare diseases in general.  She is acutely aware that everyone struggles, but wishes there would be less judgment and more support. One of her pet peeves is people who say, "You don't look sick."
For more information about Meghan's journey and to support her fundraiser, please visit her blog, www.beatingcowdens.com.  Tickets can be purchased at www.eventbrite.com.

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Till next time...xxx











Thursday, 1 May 2014

BUSTING OUT

Years ago my friend Sandy and I were in a city store trying on ball dresses. Sandy was a hilarious character and one of my closest friends at the time. In some ways we were so alike but in others so different. She was loud, funny and a smoker. I was loud, sometimes funny and my Mum would have killed me if I became a smoker...so I didn't.

Anyway back to the ball dresses. Sandy tried on a particularly ravishing, full length, peach coloured dress and stood back admiring herself in the mirror. I personally though she looked like a doll on a toilet roll cover, but there was no way I would have said that ( back then in the eighties we were all nice). She must have suddenly had the same thought,  because she started to climb out of the dress. Out came one arm. Up went the dress  over her head...well sort of because that's when she realised she was stuck.

She had tried to get out of the dress without undoing the zip at the back and she had become stuck. There she stood with half her head poking out of the dress and with one arm free...and the rest of her was stuck ...really stuck...the sort of stuck where you know the zipper is faulty.

Between her pleas for my help and her threats if I didnt,  she occasionally laughed. Between her pleas for my help and her threats if I didn't, I was hysterical with laughter. Seems kind of mean now thirty years later, but at that point I had never seen anything so funny as my overweight friend threatening to kill me if I didnt help her get out of the dress. I may have taken her seriously if I could have seen her full head, but with half of it immersed in taffeta and lace ( eew eighties fashion) I didn't really care.

I was laughing so hard that I actually left the change room and left her in there. Her threats became loud and deadly so rather than risk an angry clothes assistant,  I decided to go back in. There was no way to get her out, apart from ripping the dress. So we ripped the dress, she escaped and two twenty something year olds flew out of the door, ran through the shop and got the hell out of there.

I love that story and it never ceases to make me laugh.But she threatened me with karma and I'm just wondering if the time may have come!

This weekend I have been asked to take part in a fashion parade. Its a fundraiser for Royal Flying Doctor, which the F.E.D and I have used the services of three times. Now, I have no illusions about my body shape. I know I'm over weight and I know I could be a lot thinner, so I'm not worried about the fact I wont look like a supermodel up there. What I am worried about is that with this story resurfacing in my brain, it could be a warning signal, a sign that karma is about to collect.

So... Ive checked all the clothes.

All zips work.
All buttons are secure.
Shoes are a snug fit.

What could go wrong???

If you're reading this Sandy, I lied...the dress was hideous...even by eighties standards. I'm glad you got stuck in it because otherwise you may have liked it and may have bought it and I may have had to sit next to it all night.

 Please forgive me before this weekend.

Till next time.....xx

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