Grateful for Laundry

I’ve been grateful for so many things this last week – my heart is full. Dan threw me one hell of a birthday party last weekend and my only complaints were that I wasn’t able to get a proper visit with everyone and it ended too early (4:00 am . . .). Then, just five days later, we hosted a big Thanksgiving with all three sides of the family represented — the Torrey/Perrys, the Cappellos and the Mackays. Our house was so filled with guests all week that I never really knew how many people would be there for dinner or where everyone was sleeping. All I knew for sure was that it was amazing.

Today I’m grateful for laundry. 

Anyone else get that awful feeling lurking in the pit of their stomach when a fun time has reached it’s end (no – not a hangover, but that too)? I’ve gotten this feeling while driving home from Block Island on Labor Day and when Dan and I drag the Christmas tree to the curb in January each year. It’s part exhaustion and part relief BUT mostly it’s just knowing it was a great time and it’s over.

Our last guest left today around 1:00 and I’ve been loading and unloading the laundry and the dishwasher more times than I can count. I’ve been vacuuming and making beds and folding towels AND I am so grateful to have a distraction. 

Anna is home for one last night and we’re going to enjoy it just the four of us, around our little kitchen table. We’re ordering in, watching a movie and going to bed early. One last hoorah before the holiday is officially over.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving and has some laundry to do.

Love, Jess

I would like to thank everyone who made a donation to CPNJ – Pillar Care Continuum High School in honor of Jack for my birthday. We raised over $2500!!! It’s not to late if you want to help a great cause — CLICK HERE!

 

The Back Nine

He's a Keeper

Patient support materials you may see in the future . . . I was told to say that. I prefer the caption “Love and laughter make 50 easy”

At 9:30 last night my brother, Pablo, sent me a text, “In 2.5 hours you will officially be in the back nine. Well played, Girl.” Then I received my first Facebook birthday wish from an ALD friend who lives in Australia.

I went to bed next to my husband of nearly 25 years and woke up to the sound of the two dogs marching around our bedroom (their nails make a click, click, click at day break) and Dan muttering, “F*cking dogs”. I fell back asleep for another hour until that same mouth that had cursed at the dogs gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead, “Happy Birthday Luvo”.

I poured myself out of bed around 7:00 am to start my morning routine —  a busy hour of bathing, brushing, dressing and laundry. Jack’s sweet smile let me know that he knew that today was a special day and peeing in the toilet was his version of a perfect birthday gift. By the time we were done with the first half of our routine and made our way into the kitchen, there was a birthday message from Anna, “Gotta run take an exam, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMO! I’ll call as soon as I’m done”.

The rest of the day included a long walk, a beautiful lunch with two and a half of my best friends (one was on Facetime), teaching art to kindergarteners who think I’m turning “some sort of grandma age”, and I just ordered sushi for dinner with my boys (Anna will join us on Facetime). I also have enjoyed countless phone calls, emails, texts and silly Facebook birthday wishes.

I’m not entirely sure how I imagined myself at 50 when I was young, but it definitely didn’t look like this. I’m guessing I pictured a bit more maturity and certainly wouldn’t have guessed that I would be excited by my 21-year-old’s toileting skills, but here I am and honestly, I wouldn’t trade my life.

My family – both immediate and extended, my friends, our community, our dogs (even with their annoying morning clicks), our quirky new house, — I am beyond grateful for everything and everyone in my life as I start the back nine.

Thanks for all the birthday love. 

Love, Jess

If I had the power to change certain things, of corse I would. I wish we’d never heard of ALD and that Jack’s life had taken a different path. But I can’t, so I embrace what I have and what I have is amazing.

THIS is ALD too (no more “c” word)

Just returning from this year’s ALD Connect Annual Meeting and Patient Learning Academy and trying to decide what to share. Last year, I shared that I had met some of my ALD heroes and that number grows every year. People who have devoted their lives to helping our disease through education and research – changing policies, raising money, raising awareness and working on cures for ALD.

This year my biggest take-away (other than a massive hangover — drinking 9 ounce glasses of Sauvignon Blanc after a long day of sharing and listening was probably not a great idea) was that our community is now determined to get rid of the “C” word. 

Carrier.

Twelve years ago when we were told that Jack had ALD, it was found that I was a carrier. I had the genetic mutation for ALD and had passed the disease down to my son, but I would never be affected by any symptoms. ALD is an X-linked disease and only one of my X chromosomes was affected. I had another X chromosome that would do the work for two.

Then problem with this information is that it’s not true.

The first time I walked into an ALD conference, the first thing I noticed was the amount of men and women clearly suffering from symptoms. I had been so focused on the childhood, cerebral form of ALD, I had almost forgotten that there were other phenotypes (different versions of the disease). In the case of ALD, these phenotypes include:  Cerebral ALD (the worst manifestation of the disease which Jack has), Adrenomyloneuropathy (AMN) which usually starts later in life and often presents similar to MS, adrenal insufficiency where the individual’s adrenal gland is affected, and the lucky few who are asymptomatic.

That first ALD conference I tried to avoid too many questions about the other phenotypes of ALD. I had just managed to wrap my brain around what our family had gone through. I couldn’t begin to contemplate that this disease might leave a mark on anyone else in our family. 

As the years have gone on, and I’ve become more educated about ALD, I could no longer ignore the ugly truth that ALD was not yet done affecting us. Our family is small and I believe that everyone who needs to be, has been tested (if you haven’t – call me. I will first yell and then give you the information you need to get it done). As far as I know, my mother, Jack and I are the only people with the genetic mutation. We suspect that my grandmother on my mother’s side also had the gene because of the complaints she had later in life. Balance, neuropathy, bladder issues are common symptoms for women with ALD and my grandmother had all three.  She lived a long life with these symptoms, never assuming it was anything other than getting older. While annoying, they never seemed to hold her back. My mother, now in her seventies, has been suffering with balance issues that are progressing enough that she is going to see an ALD specialist. She is done pretending that ALD is just for men/boys.

I’m so proud of my mother, but I haven’t been sure I was ready to discuss my symptoms openly. Over the last year, I have started trying on the words. When people comment on my constant runs to the bathroom or clumsy falls, I might quickly mention that ALD is to blame. I’ve gotten rid of any shoes with a heel or platforms because they make me look and feel as unsteady as walking on a tightrope. And, I’ve shared with my close friends that I’m scared of not being able to care for Jack if something happens to my ability to walk BUT then I quickly say that I’ll be fine. “My mom is clumsy, but not using a walker or a wheel chair. I’m sure I will be just like her.”

How can a disease be so cruel as to affect a child AND their caregiver?

At the conference, I was sitting with a group of women with the ALD gene and we were each sharing our story. I was the fourth person to share, when the woman across from me interrupted, “Each of you are starting with someone else’s story. Your son, your father, your brother . . . We are here to discuss you and your ALD story.” I swallowed hard, but she was right. It’s time for our community to acknowledge women with ALD. I reluctantly talked about my increasing clumsiness and awkward relationship with the bathroom. Others in the group had more complicated complaints and were braver than I was. The woman next to me started with, My name is, D$#@, and I have ALD.”

As women, symptoms range and (like all people with ALD) nobody knows where their journey will lead them, but it’s time we all band together. We need to get the proper care for those of us who are suffering and need to educated doctors and nurses and each other.

No more hiding — THIS is ALD too.

ALD – shitty disease/great people.

Love, Jess

For more information about x-linked diseases, check out Remember the Girls. Here I am with it’s founder and one of my ALD heroes, Taylor Kane.

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