I like to surround myself with people smarter than I am. While some people might find it intimidating, I find it thrilling to witness brilliance and like the challenge of trying to blend in. And, if I know I’m really … Continue reading
I have known Kerry for many years through social media. We both have sons named Jack and we both know how ALD can effect every inch of every life in an entire family – even when it only takes over one body.
Thank you Kerry for sharing Jack’s story.
THIS is ALD — Jack M.
Jack was 8-years-old when our family was at my older son’s boot camp graduation at Parris Island. Jack suffered what look like a seizure — months later we figured out it was caused by an adrenal crisis. He was taken from Parris Island to the hospital and then we took him home to Miami the next day. The doctors refused to test for anything specific, simply saying he had Epilepsy. It took several months, and lots of doctors, before Jack was diagnosed with ALD and adrenal insufficiency.
Although the doctors in Miami told us there was no hope, I put Jack on a plane and went to University of Minnesota Hospital (a leader in ALD research and treatment) to see if he would qualify for a bone marrow transplant. They agreed and Jack was transplanted using the precious cells from his brother, the Marine.
After transplant, Jack continued to decline because the cells needed time to get to where they were needed. I’ve homeschooled him his entire life and have been able to adapt all curriculum to where he is at any given time. It also has allowed us to be flexible while we continued to pursue other treatments for him. Over the next several years I took him to North Carolina to see a rare disease doctors and several other states for answers which I eventually figured out on my own. Jack’s disease finally stopped progressing 2 years post-transplant, and he was left requiring full-time care. I am his full-time caregiver. Respiratory issues and adrenal issues keep me on my feet.
ALD has not been the only complication our family has faced. We recently went through hurricane Irma and YES we are still fighting the insurance company to repair the house so we can safely live here. Three times over the last year I have had to travel to take care of my mother who has heart condition and breast cancer. All of this has been the worst case scenario — like the board game, except I don’t hold any cards. I just do whatever is needed at the moment. One step forward, two steps back. I try to just keep pushing forward. My Marine son says I would have made a great Marine — I have been through The Crucible and back.
Since my Jack’s diagnosis and transplant there have been 5 babies born in our family and one expected this July — my grandchildren. All of my grandchildren are healthy. Jack’s ALD was a spontaneous mutation (meaning it was not inherited). ALD is now part of the newborn screening panel in Florida. I often imagine if ALD had been part of the panel when Jack was born – so much of this pain could have been avoided.
So much has happened since ALD struck our family and it’s effected a lot of our lives. I have had children graduate from college numerous times and missed their graduations. I’ve missed grand babies being born. Everything is on the back burner while I care for my son 24/7. It’s also changed the lives of my seven other children. My 23-year-old is my constant help. My 29-year old Marine just receive his third degree from college in bio medical and he also runs a tutoring company that caters to Veterans and hopes to raise money for research to develop an auto injector (to administer steroids) for those with Addison’s Disease. All seven of Jack’s siblings have been contributing to ALD awareness. They have learned first hand how ALD can effect a family. My ex-husband has moved on since Jack’s diagnosis. He is remarried and started a new family and we have no contact. Another dirty side of the storm no one talks about.
Jack is now 18. When Jack is doing well he has a good quality of life — bowling and baseball, he has even played soccer in his wheelchair. When he’s not well I count the moments and do everything I can to keep him out of the hospital and give him comfort. Sometimes I question putting him through chemo and transplant, but I know I tried and did everything possible at each step of our journey. Jack is still here. He is still fighting and I will fight with him. I know the Lord has the last say.
Kerry is also a children’s book writer and has been a very active volunteer with political campaigns, adding to the bone marrow registry and raising awareness for ALD and newborn screening.
Thank you Kerry for sharing Jack’s story and helping the ALD community spread the word about our not-so-rare disease.
My name is Kim and I’m the oldest of four children. I have 3 brothers. Angel , Cesar, and Alan. My brothers were all born healthy. Until 2016 nobody knew this horrible disease ran in the family.
December, 2015 my mom started noticing changes in my brother Alan – he was eight-years-old. He was having hearing problems and a hard time at school. My mother took him to a hearing specialist and they didn’t think anything was wrong. By May, 2016 things got worse. Alan started complaining of a terrible headache and was taken to a local hospital. They transferred him to a bigger facility, but the doctors had trouble figuring out what was going on. It wasn’t until they did an MRI that they discovered Alan had ALD.
My parents are Mexican and speak little English. They understood the diagnosis, but had many questions. When they learned that ALD is genetic, my two other brothers, Angel and Cesar, were tested — Cesar tested positive for ALD. My parents were heartbroken.
This was the same month I found out I was pregnant. When my parents shared the news with me, I took it pretty bad. I was six months pregnant when I found out I was a carrier. I learned that, since I was having a boy, he would need to be tested as soon as he was born.
Alan’s health started going down hill quickly. Doctors told my parents Alan had very little time and there wasn’t anything anyone could do. He lost his hearing, vision, speech, and started having trouble walking. My mom became his full time caregiver. Cesar was not as symptomatic and qualified for a bone marrow transplant (BMT) which he had in December, 2016. My mother was now caring for one son who was recovering from a BMT and another who’s disease was moving quickly.
My son, Maximiliano, was born just after Cesar’s BMT and was 3 weeks old when he was diagnosed with ALD. By January, 2017 my brother Alan was in a vegetative state and Cesar was doing well and was out of the hospital. It was really hard on everyone. We couldn’t believe three people in our family had ALD, including my son. The reality really set in when on March 23, 2017, my brother Alan lost his fight to ALD – just a few days after his 10th birthday.
Maximiliano is now a year old and he’s the sweetest little boy ever. He’s so smart, always smiling, and super curious. It’s really hard for me knowing my son has ALD. Knowing ALD took my brother away from me. Maximiliano is seeing specialists at UCLA and at Santa Barbara. I’ve gotten in touch with doctors at the University of Minnesota and I plan on taking my son this summer, and seeing what they have to offer.
Next month will be a year …a full 365 days since my little brother left us. It’s been really difficult for all of us to continue our lives without him. Holidays were more sad than happy. There were a lot of ‘firsts’ without Alan. In my heart I know he’s in a much better place. He’s at peace.
I really wish Alan had been diagnosed sooner and could’ve gotten treatment. Newborn screening could’ve saved his life. I think about everything that’s happened in the last 2 years. I’m a strong believer in God, but can’t help but think to myself why did He let this happen? To an innocent child? This horrible disease ruined my family but also made it stronger.
This beautiful family lives in California, which has now added ALD to it’s newborn screening panel. I try not to spend too much energy with “if onlys”, but I am glad that future generations of ALD families in CA will have the luxury of knowing and preparing. Alan didn’t have that luxury, but Cesar is doing well because he was treated in a timely manner and Maximiliano is being monitored by a team of specialists who will be prepared to help him IF he becomes symptomatic.
Corresponding with Kim has been an honor. She has been so honest and informative. I wanted to share two other notes I received from her last week:
I forgot to tell you, when I was pregnant I would place both of Alan’s hands on my belly, and he would get this huge smile and hug me because he knew it was me. He couldn’t see, but he was still aware of his surroundings. Before he lost his eyesight I showed him a picture of my ultrasound and he told me my baby looked like a little alien! I remember he was so happy he was going to be an uncle …
The night before my brother passed away, my mom had a dream. She told me Alan appeared to her in her dream and he told her that he was going to be okay but he didn’t want her to cry. I get the chills every time I think about this. I guess that was his way of letting my mom know … the next day he passed.
Thank you Kim.
If you haven’t read THIS is ALD #17, go back. It’s an incredible piece showing how ALD can weave itself through a family for generations. It was shared by an ALD mother/daughter/grand-daughter/great-granddaughter. She is also a symptomatic carrier. THIS is her story.
THIS is ALD #18 — Margaret
I first started noticing little things, symptoms, in my 20s. The first thing I distinctly remember is the feeling that ants were crawling on my lower legs. Then I had back spasms; I’d be sitting at work and my back would knot up. I attributed it to having to sit a lot at work. But then I started visiting a chiropractor who did massages and we couldn’t figure out why or how my neck muscles used to get so tight in between appointments. I then started to visit a massage therapist, leapfrogging between the chiropractor—and my neck and shoulder muscles were still really tight, like all the time. I thought it was stress, not just at work, but my personal life was crumbling around me. I felt like a pinball, bounding from one circumstance to another for a year. I wasn’t taking care of myself, I was always fatigued, and my migraines started getting bad again.
I started having problems wearing shoes with heels in my early 30s. Now, I can only wear flats that go all around my feet (no flip flops). My feet are always numb but surprisingly sensitive. My hands are often numb too—I put them down so the blood flow is restored and I can feel again. I have little grip strength. I also have Raynaud’s Syndrome, wherein the capillaries in my fingers and toes shut when cold, so they get white and numb. I don’t know if it’s an AMN thing or a family thing.
I’ve had to get a cane to walk with so that I don’t look like I’m a drunk meandering along the walkway. I got a shower seat so I don’t fall in the bathtub. I have orthotics that go down my lower legs and into my shoes the length of my feet so that my toes don’t slip on the ground. I have an implanted drug infusion pump that puts baclofen (a medication that helps relieve spasticity) directly into my spinal column.
I have pain every day, it feels like my bone marrow is boiling. I visit my pain doctor every month. I have taken every medicine there is. I take 9 medications every day, besides the baclofen, and have another 4 I take as needed. Fatigue is a huge issue for me, both as a result of medicine side effects and exhaustion from dealing with pain.
I’ve been on Social Security Disability for 10 years — a combination of AMN, Migraine, and anxiety and depression. It took two tries over almost three years to get approved. I’ve had to be reassessed twice and will again. There’s nothing like watching your abilities slip away, knowing that this shell of a body will fail me, I just don’t know when, or what my quality of life is going to be in the meantime. I don’t mean to end on a negative note, it’s just that that’s what I’ve been dealing with internally the past few months.
As I’ve gotten more involved with the ALD community, one question that keeps coming to mind has been, What about the carriers (women with the gene)? There are some differing opinions on the subject, but more and more the answer is that people don’t carry ALD, they have ALD. Even women.
I won’t go too much into the science behind X-linked diseases like ALD (frankly I don’t know too much about them), but here’s a short version. In the case of an X-linked disease the mutation affects a gene on the X chromosome. Males, having only one X chromosome, are effected by the condition if the single X they inherit from their mother has the mutation (or the mutation happens spontaneously). This is why ALD is generally passed from mother to son. Females have two X chromosomes and the unaffected X chromosome should HELP their body compensate for the gene mutation. It is a common misconception that females cannot have X-linked disorders and that they can only be unaffected carriers — In truth, diseases like ALD are proving that while females tend to be better off than males (because one of their chromosomes is producing the correct protein), they can, and often do, have the disease in varying severities.
I have heard that there are cases of full-blown cerebral ALD in girls, but I can’t verify that. But, I have met several women over the last year that are clearly effected by our disease. Neuropathy, bladder dysfunction, spasticity and balance issues seem to be quite common for women with the ALD mutation, especially as they get older. Unfortunately Margaret falls into the category of “symptomatic carrier”.
Thank you Margaret for your honesty. It’s important for people to see every way ALD can effect a person. It’s also important for people to understand that ALD can effect every person with the mutation. Again – newborn screening identifies people — both genders –with the gene so that they can be monitored and treated properly.
Today is Rare Disease Day – a worldwide event to raise awareness amongst the general public and decision-makers about rare diseases and their impact on patients’ lives. I am so proud of all of the ALD folks that are in DC this week raising awareness of our (not so) rare disease!!!
Today I am sharing another story of a beautiful boy from Mexico. More proof that research, education and newborn screening for ALD is a global issue. Meet David.
THIS is ALD #16 — David
Describing ALD in David is difficult. It’s a story that I never wanted tell, as if it were a bad dream that I have not yet awakened.
The first 5 years of David’s life were similar to any child. He was very playful and talkative with a great ability to learn new things. He was a child full of curiosity about everything.
ALD first showing it’s signs when David was 6 years-old with problems with one eye, poor school performance and unstable behavior which, according to the little knowledge of the disease in Mexico, only gave David bad diagnoses.
Knowledge of ALD in Mexico is very limited. This caused a lot of wasted time. David was only given glasses for his vision and psychological therapy for his unstable behavior. Frustrated with the initial diagnosis, we were determined to find answers. An MRI indicated that there was serious problems with the myelin in David’s brain. He wasn’t suffering from major issues until in October of 2016 (less then six months from his initial symptoms) when David had a massive seizure and that caused him to lose the ability to speak and walk.
It was another two months before David was finally diagnosed with ALD. He is the first member of our family to have been diagnosed with the disease.
We and the specialists in Mexico considered all of our options and decided to perform a bone marrow transplant (I was able to be the donor). June 16, 2017, David received his transplant in a hospital in Mexico. His current chimerism shows that the transplant has been a success.
David has lost physical abilities during the 17 months of this journey, but the child that the doctors thought would die 8 months ago is still here with us, receiving love and we all feel very hopeful that he will break the cruel statistics of children, like David, diagnosed late with ALD.
Currently David attends physical therapy rehabilitation every week. He is very brave and the desire to fulfill his dream is to participate in a children’s race.
Our family continues our fight with courage and perseverance — believing that this is the beginning of a new history.
— David Alejandro Rivera
Thank you for sharing David’s story with us today. It remarkable to have received two stories from Mexico within such a short time. It emphasizes the fact that ALD is not a disease that is isolated to the United States. Although our fight is far from over here, we have made huge strides in ALD education/research (and we are not alone – there has been plenty of research/progress in other countries) – but it needs to happen EVERYWHERE!
If you would like to help new families who have been diagnosed with our disease check out the ALD Connect’s NBS SCOUT Initiative — CLICK HERE!
ALD is a horrible disease that can take on many different forms. This family’s story is fascinating because it has clearly been present in their family for some time without symptoms that you might expect.
THIS is ALD #15 — Kayden and Braxton
We welcomed our beautiful baby boy, Braxton, into our family 6 months ago. We received a call from the hospital about our son’s newborn screening. They said not to worry, but they would like to retest. We went back a week later and retested and he was positive for Adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD).
I immediately went to Google — a huge mistake. I felt it was a death sentence for my son. We spoke with a fellow firefighter who has a son with ALD and the first thing he said to us was we will need God through all of this and he was exactly right! We then came in contact with a mother who had a son with ALD. He was having adrenal issues. She had told me all boys die from ALD–that broke my heart. We met with our genetic counselor who then told us that this disease is either genetic or a spontaneous mutation. No one in my family has shown symptoms, but I chose to get tested to see if I was a carrier — I was. I felt like a failure of a mother. A mother is supposed to protect their child, here I was putting my child in harm’s way. It got worse when my 2-year-old son, Kayden, was tested and was also positive for ALD. I thought we could handle one case of it, but two!?!
I was heart broken and very depressed for quite some time. The more ALD families I came in contact with, the more I saw what this horrible disease can do and it scared me. Not knowing the future scared me. I had no clue where this disease was coming from — we had no family history of the disease. Many in our family refused to get tested, and my mother had passed. My sister from my father’s side (we have different mothers) offered to get tested and she was positive. The genetic counselor said it was impossible for my father to have ALD as he is asymptomatic at the age of 50.
The genetic counselor was wrong – my father was tested and was positive for ALD. Luckily he has no adrenal issues and a clean MRI. I thought wow, how amazing!!! From there, two other sisters from my father were tested and they are also carriers. A total of 4 carriers (if a father has the mutation, his daughters will always be carriers). My other sisters do not have children, but are very grateful they know. While researching our family history we found that we had an uncle over 60 years ago who had Addison’s Disease, but he passed of old age. The rest of our family members refuse to get tested as they live in the mind set that many generations have had this and everyone is asymptomatic and they will handle it if something happens (I hope it is not too late by then). My family so far seems to be an example of living with a deadly disease.
Braxton and Kayden are seen by Dr. Raymond in Hershey, PA (a doctor with a huge amount of experience with ALD). They will have MRIs and get their adrenal glands checked every 6 months. I no longer live in fear now that I have a plan set up to monitor my boys with a doctor very familiar with the disease and I do have strong hope that many can survive this unpredictable disease and that hopefully my children will follow a similar path to others in our family.
I have become close with many families that have experienced ALD or are now experiencing it. I have as well started a support group for families in which has grown over the past month. This journey is not what I expected for my life, but it has strengthened my faith in God and made me cherish the days all the more and stress less about the small stuff. This is not the end for us, but a new beginning with a different perspective. We plan to have another child and we have a 4 year-old daughter (they will not test her until she is of age to have children). I am beyond grateful for the newborn screening in PA and pray everyday for a cure!
Thank you for listening to our story!
Thank you Jennifer for sharing your family’s story. “Unpredictable” is such a perfect word to describe ALD. As your family proves, it can present itself in many different ways – including limited/no symptoms. My hope is that Braxton and Kayden will follow the family tradition and live their lives enjoying good health and no (or few) signs of ALD.
AND, I am so happy that Pennsylvania has ALD on the newborn screening panel and that you are blessed with the knowledge you need to monitor your boys so closely, as this disease can be very unpredictable even within a single family. Knowledge is power!
I’ve now shared 13 THIS is ALD stories and I have piles more waiting to share. I will continue to post them here on Smiles and Duct Tape, but I’ve started another blog just for THIS is ALD — thisisald.blog
I‘m hoping that it will become an archive of stories for the ALD community to learn/find their people AND for doctors, teachers, therapists who want to better understand what ALD families go through AND for families who are newly diagnosed with the disease AND for us all to witness as the disease changes course. I am confident that a change coming — newborn screening, gene therapy, education — a trifecta that is sure to change the future of ALD!
I do need to brace myself a little bit when I open my email and see that there is another story waiting to be read. ALD doesn’t have many bright stories – yet. Just when I thought I knew this disease, I learn other insidious ways the disease can manifest itself and run through children, adults, families. It’s truly horrific. I do sometimes turn off the computer and wonder — Why the hell I’m doing this!?! Why not go back to just focusing on my family/our story?
Then I remember how I felt ten years ago. Our family was lost facing a disease that we didn’t know, surrounded by people – even doctors – who were as clueless as we were. I poured through the internet (a pre-Facebook world), searching for other ALD families. I found a few, but their lives where as complicated as ours and often their journeys too difficult for me to hear. Of the families I found that first year, Jack is the only survivor. That is when I walked away from ALD.
I left those letters behind and focused on getting Jack healthy and setting him up in his new world filled with special needs. I dug deep in finding the right schools and therapies and learned all the vocabulary necessary to maneuver through a world that was new to us. I also focused on Anna and Dan so that they didn’t feel like we were defined by those three letters. I also worked on myself — teaching my art classes, sharing our story (less ALD/more “special needs”), spending time with friends and family and distracting myself with some travel and more Sauvignon Blanc then is healthy (I’m not a saint folks . . . ).
Writing the book helped me regain my focus and made me realize that people didn’t just want to hear our story, they wanted to learn about ALD. That’s when I started heading back to the ALD community and found a whole different world. Sure, there are names that I’d heard ten years ago and many of the same hospitals known to work with ALD patients, but there is a new energy in the ALD community and I wanted to be part of it.
There are many people doing remarkable things for ALD. To name a few – Janice Sherwood of fightald.org, and Elisa Seeger of aidanhasaposse.org, Jean Kelley of brianshope.org and Kathleen O’Sullivan-Fortin and all the folks at aldconnect.org – these people are making incredible things happen in education, research, and newborn screening.
I thank them for everything they are doing and for encouraging me to get involved. They need as much support as they can get from our community. I’m not great at a lot of things, but I am pretty good at sharing stories.
Please check out the new blog — thisisald.blog. Share it, follow it, and share it again.
How can you help?
If you have an ALD story, please contact me to share your story and if you want to help the cause — ALD Connect has launched an incredible program designed to help newly diagnosed families. It’s called NBS SCOUT — Supportive Community Outreach and Understanding Together. We are helping to raise money at CLICK HERE!!
Sharing THIS is ALD stories has allowed me to learn a great deal about the different faces of our disease. Some are hard to share, but it is important that people understand the different paths that ALD can take. Wendy reached out to share the story of her two sons, Richie and Ryan. It’s shows a different side of ALD.
THIS is ALD #12 — Richie and Ryan
This is the story of my first born, Richie. He was born in 1975. He was so bright and brought so much joy. He started developing his “tan” very early (darkening of skin is often a sign of ALD/Addison’s Disease). He did amazingly in school through the 4th grade. That is when school work started to be a struggle. I took him to the pediatrician, who proclaimed him to be very healthy and told him to work up to his potential. When Richie started the 6th grade, I took him to an optometrist who referred us to UC DAVIS specialists. Endocrinology residents asked if I knew who his father was, due to his dark skin!! Anyway, he was diagnosed with Addison’s Disease and we were ultimately diagnosed with this “very rare” disease, ALD.
I met Augusto Odone, Dr Rizzo, and Dr Moser at the ULF conference that summer. Richie had his first seizure on our way to the conference. Dr Moser told me to expect the worst 6 months of my life. Luckily, Richie started taking Lorenzo’s Oil immediately (continued through age 18) and his disease did not progress for many years. He graduated high school and worked and lived on his own for many years.
Unfortunately, the ALD eventually started to progress and Richie moved home about 10 years ago. He is now 42, doesn’t talk, walks a bit with a walker, in our home, has caregivers 6 hours per day who bathe and dress him, and feed him. We had a g-tube (a tube that goes directly into his belly) put in about a year ago when he was not eating while hospitalized for a UTI. We only use it for meds and fluid at this time. We have been blessed because Richie seems happy, sometimes giggling, and does not seem to mind being cared for. Any progression seems to come slowly.
Ryan was 6-years-old when his brother, Richie, was diagnosed with ALD. Ryan, had Addison’s Disease, but rather than having dark skin, he had always craved salt (“salt seeking” can be another sign of ALD/Addison’s Disease). When he was 2-years-old we came close to losing him. What no one knew is that he was suffering an Addisonian shutdown of all his bodily functions. It took three doctors working on him to save his life. He was on life support and not expected to make it through the night, but he survived and I thought that was the worst battle he would ever fight.
This is why newborn screening is so important. Had we known, we would never had to almost lose our baby. After finding out his diagnosis, Ryan took Lorenzo’s Oil until he was 18-years-old. He had MRIs yearly and never showed any demyelination. He graduated from a university, got married, and had a son four years ago.
That is when everything started to change. He had had some incontinence problems, and then balance issues appeared. I had thought that if the childhood form of ALD did not appear, then the worst he might face would be mobility problems. He quickly moved from a cane, to a walker, to a scooter and finally to a wheelchair all within a few years in his mid 30s. He was exhibiting a lot of anger and insisted that he had to walk again. In the last few years, being angry was exhibiting as psychiatric problems. He attempted suicide at least twice.
Ryan also had a large wound that ended up septic and his decline sped up. Within only months he has lost his speech, his legs are atrophied, he can’t use his arms, and he has been hospitalized for the last few months. I sent his latest MRIs to KKI and Stanford. Both have agreed that he has hind brain involvement, only occurring in 5-10% of ALD cases. It is known to be rapidly progressing. Now my daughter-in-law is looking into hospice. He definitely qualifies, but you have to pay for caregivers, and Ryan needs 24 hour care. I had no idea this could happen.
Wendy shared this piece with me on January 25th. I received the news last week that Ryan lost his battle with ALD last weekend. Another beautiful life taken too soon by this monster.
Richie and Ryan’s stories are different than many I’ve heard over the years, but that’s the thing about ALD – it never looks exactly the same person to person. The only commonality I see is that these boys/men/humans are remarkably strong and that nature can be cruel.
Thank you Wendy for sharing your family’s story. The more we share the different faces of our disease, the more people will understand the importance of newborn screening to changing the future of ALD.
A year ago, on February 6, 2017, one boy lost his battle with ALD. Carter’s mom, Stacie, is amazing and shares his story with honesty and love.
THIS is ALD #12 — Carter
December 31, 2010 my youngest son was born. Carter Joseph, weighing in at 8 lb 1 oz and was 21 inches long, a healthy baby boy. Carter completed our family, he made us a party of four, and we couldn’t have been happier.
He met all his milestones, was thriving, just overall a very happy baby. Then the toddler years came, he was into everything, such a daredevil who was absolutely fearless. His personality was unlike any toddler his age, a typical boy with gorgeous blonde hair, big blue eyes that would cheer you up on your worst of days. That part of Carter never changed, but at age 4.5 things started to be different.
After many appointments with many doctors, Carter was diagnosed with ALD, “a too late” diagnosis left us with no options to save our baby, and for 14 months he battled this relentless disease. Month by month after diagnosis, Carter lost his abilities… sight, sound, speech, swallowing, walking, until he became 100% dependent on us, within 6 short months. ALD robbed Carter of everything.
It took a toll on all of us as we watched the boy who was scared of nothing, losing his biggest fight. Quickly after Carter’s diagnosis my whole family was tested, as ALD is a genetic disease… Carter was the only male affected, myself and my mother are the only women in the family and we are both carriers… while her VLCFA numbers were way higher than mine, it didn’t matter as I still passed it to Carter. My oldest son, Peyton (age 10) was not affected, and he very easily could have, as it’s a 50/50 chance each pregnancy. Scary odds, even scarier if you didn’t even know about ALD, yet were a carrier of such a deadly disease.
Knowledge is power, Newborn Screening is necessary — I’d give anything to know what I know now, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have had to watch my baby take his last breath at just 6 years old, and somehow continue living this life without him.
— Stacie (Carter’s mom)
Unfortunately, Carter’s story is not uncommon for childhood/cerebral ALD. If you don’t know that the mutation is lurking, and are not looking for it, ALD is often diagnosed too late for any treatment. Families are faced with helplessly watching their child’s abilities be taken one by one, before they are completely robbed of everything.
Newborn screening would have given Carter’s family knowledge and power and hope.
Thank you Stacie for sharing Carter’s story with us.
Another ALD story to share, and this one is a little different. This is a new story for ALD –hopefully the future of our disease. It’s a story about a boy, newborn screening, and a bright future. Meet Donovan.
THIS is ALD #6 — Donovan
My son, Donovan, was born in Connecticut in 2016. When he was 3 weeks old, his pediatrician called and said he tested positive for a “metabolic disorder” on his newborn screen and needed further testing. She was purposely vague because she didn’t want me to Google the disorder until we had confirmed answers. It didn’t do much to keep me from worrying, though. She mentioned that if it was confirmed, my 3 daughter’s would need to be tested as well. Without much information, I was scared for my son’s life, and the health of my daughters.
The tests came back positive, Donovan had ALD. Don’s pediatrician continued to be vague, and I understand why. She wasn’t an expert on the disease, and didn’t want to give me any false information. My first question was “Is it life threatening?” All she could say was, “It can be.”
That’s when the Googling started.
We met with a geneticist at Yale, who was the only expert in the state. The information she gave us was overwhelming, and tough to process. So many unknowns. When will it manifest? Will it ever? What type will he have? How severe will it be? There was no way to tell. My husband and I spent several nights cradling and weeping over our newborn son. So small and perfect. How could he have this monster inside of him?
After the diagnosis, I joined the ALD support group on Facebook and met some amazing and wonderful people. I was connected with lovely families here in CT, some who were also diagnosed through newborn screening!
At 3 months, they tested Donovan’s blood to get an understanding of his adrenal function. At 6 months, he had his first MRI. I was terrified. I knew there wouldn’t be anything to see in his scans at this age, but they had to put him under so that he would be still, and that worried me a lot. He came through it like a champ, though. It didn’t seem to bother him at all!
Donovan is unique. First of all, he did not inherit the gene from me. I am not a carrier, and no one in my family, or my other children, are at risk. Donovan’s gene spontaneously mutated while in the womb. This only happens in 5%-7% of ALD babies. Secondly, he is, what his geneticist called, a “mosaic.” This means some of his cells are mutated, but some are not. She seemed baffled by it. She didn’t know how or why it happened that way, or how that might affect his condition. If at all. More unknowns. So they treat him like any other ALD patient, and I am grateful.
Don is now over a year old. He will have yearly MRIs until he is 3, and the every 6 months. He will also have his adrenal levels tested every 6 months. So far, all his tests have been normal.
ALD has opened a whole new world to us. I’ve met people I never would have otherwise known. Strong, beautiful, inspiring families. Some of their stories are terribly tragic. My husband asks me why I read those stories if it makes me so sad, and I tell him, “Because they put their pain out there. I just want them to know someone is listening, and someone cares.”
I am not a perfectly patient person, not at all! But I do think I live a bit differently, now. I take more pictures and videos, I give more hugs and kisses, I say more “I love yous.”
Donovan is my 4th child, but my only son. His older sisters adore him! He is cuddly and happy. He is curious and likes to get his hands on everything! He has even started climbing, now! His sister, Josephine, is only one year older than him and they are best friends. They do everything together and always want to be with one anther. My older 2, Mika and Ripley, help change diapers, teach, and play with him.
None of our children know much about his ALD. My 9 year old has heard us use the term and noticed his many doctor appointments, and she just understands that he has something inside him that could one day make him very sick. So we have to keep an eye on him. We have settled into our “normal.” Life has gone on, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that! For the chance for life to go on.
Diana and I met through the ALD Support group she mentioned and when she agreed to share Donovan’s story I was thrilled. It’s so important that people realize the advantages of newborn screening and an early diagnosis. Although the news must have been a huge slap to their family they are allowed to prepare and monitor.
The hope is that beautiful little Donovan will go on to have a perfectly normal life and ALD will stay dormant forever, but just in case, his family has a plan in place. It’s thrilling.
Diana told me that she wasn’t a writer, but I beg to argue. Her voice shines as a mother who loves her children and will do anything she needs to do to give them the best life possible. Thank you for sharing your story, Diana, and for helping people better understand our not-so-rare disease and the importance of newborn screening.