When I reached out to the ALD community to share their THIS is ALD stories it’s mostly been mothers who have responded. I appreciate all of the input from mothers, but I’ve been wondering about the rest of the family. When ALD strikes, it doesn’t just strike the person and it doesn’t just strike their mothers — ALD strikes the entire family (the entire community if you live in a place like Maplewood). Tra My reached out to share her brother’s story and I jumped at the chance to share it with all of you. Meet Tra My and her brother, Manh Cuong.

This is ALD # 9 — Manh Cuong

This is my brother’s picture soon after he was diagnosed with ALD in September, 2000. We lived in Hanoi, Vietnam in a happy family with my parents. My brother, Manh Cuong, was born healthy in 1992 and he was a smart, funny and kind child. He loved playing football and drawing. He was a very clever boy, as my Mum would often say.

The symptoms of ALD started in the beginning of 2000. Manh Cuong grade’s slipped and he wrote badly as his vision declined. Unfortunately we didn’t get the right medical advice at that time, so we just thought that he was naughty and the bad writing was normal for a small and active eight-year-old boy.

We were wrong. An MRI showed that his brain’s white matter was damaged widely and only one doctor in Vietnam could conclude that it was ALD. The disease had progressed so fast that we couldn’t do anything. A bone marrow was too expensive to afford and too risky.

My mother is a brave woman. She took my brother to Paris with the hope that maybe a hospital in Paris may help. When they arrived in Paris, my brother could walk and within a month he was forced to sit in a wheelchair. When they came back to Hanoi, he quickly lost his ability to communicate. It was too late to do anything.

From the period that my brother became ill, until he lost his consciousness, he was always a kind hearted, funny and positive person. He encouraged my parents not to worry about him, he will get well soon. I still had hope that one day he could be healthy again so once in a lifetime we could see the sun together again, play Legos again.

My brother lived two and a half years after he was diagnosed – one of those years in a coma. He got his wings in May, 2013. He was ten years old. For us, his death wasn’t so bad. We are grateful that he doesn’t suffer any pain and has been released from a vegetative state – he is free. Grief hasn’t killed us, but made us stronger.

I am also a ALD carrier, but the situation is better now. I live happily with my husband and my daughter. My partner knows about my mutation and if we have a second baby, there is newborn screening in Singapore. ALD gives me chances to meet people like us, sharing information and medical aids and the boys could have better chances to live. Recently, I’ve started searching and searching to get more sources of information. In Vietnam, some families asked to share their story, avoid talking about it. I think differently — the more we share our situation, the better results we get so I am very open to talk about ALD.

My brother’s tomb is in the family cemetery. We visited him quarterly, bringing him roses to remember him, keeping in mind that we must be brave and live positively. We always love you Manh Cuong.

– Tra My

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Thank you for sharing your brother’s story with us, Tra My. Getting a sister’s perspective is interesting and your love for him is beautiful. Another fascinating layer of the story is that your family lived Vietnam and access to doctors who could recognize and understand our disease was limited. Your mother was brave to have done all she could do to find treatment for your brother, but time is limited with ALD — once it starts, it moves so quickly. Education for ALD needs to improve not just here in the States, but around the world.

Further proof that newborn screening needs to be accessible in the US and around the world so that we can change the future of ALD for everyone.

Love, Jess