Category Archives: special needs family

16 years

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16 years.

5844 Days.

Two homes. Four dogs. Eight schools. Seven graduations. Many jobs. Trips to Ireland, Cape Cod, Vermont, Charm City, Disney, Massachusetts, Yankee Stadium, Italy, Maine, Block Island, Puerto Rico, Florida, New Mexico, Colorado. We’ve been skiing/tubing, kayaking, surfing, swimming, sailing, and hiking. Many tears. More laughter.

16 years ago Jack had the transplant that saved his life, but before it did it’s magic ALD stole a lot from Jack. It stole a lot from our family. 

For 16 years we’ve done our best to grab back what we could – to live big, bold, bright lives. I think we’ve done a darn good job.

Happy 16th Transplant birthday JackO! Thank you for your guidance and strength for all these years.

And to ALD – F*CK you!!!

Love, Jess

Full Circle

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Yesterday was the anniversary of receiving Jack’s ALD diagnosis. 16 years since we heard the word Adrenoleukodystrophy for the first time. We were in a small room behind the nurse’s station on the 6th floor of Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital at NewYork-Presbyterian Columbia. The room was filled with people as Dan and I sat on a small sofa trying to take in the news that Jack’s symptoms were a result of Adrenoleukodystrophy. That Jack may die. That he needed a horrible treatment if we wanted any hope of saving him. That our lives had changed forever.

Later that day, I was taking a walk to clear my head and I saw a sign — AMAZING THINGS ARE HAPPENING HERE.  All I could think was – there better F$%^ING be!

AMAZING THINGS ARE HAPPENING HERE is an ad campaign that continues at NewYork-Presbyterian Columbia. Every time I see it, I take a breath and nod my head. Amazing things are happening behind their walls. Lives are being saved, new treatments are being used, and doctors are being trained.

We learned that NewYork-Presbyterian Columbia was a teaching hospital when a month into our stay there, a pile of young faces marched into our room to meet Jack. We’d been asked if it was okay for a few medical students to stop by with their instructor. They wanted to learn more about ALD. We agreed and, later that day during my nightly call with Anna, I shared how cool it was to watch soon-to-be-doctors learn about our disease.

Anna soaked in the story. She was already thinking that being a doctor was in her future.

For 16 years, Anna’s determination to be a doctor has been incredible to witness. Her brain allowed her to excel in many subjects, but she chose to focus on the sciences. She could have gone to any college, but she chose Johns Hopkins University knowing it was the top pre-med program. She could have made some extra money working as a server or a bartender, but she instead spent countless hours working for extraordinary doctors and researchers. She studied hard, graduated in just six semesters, and nailed the MCAT exam with a top score. Although she reminded us often that there was no guarantee (even with her great resume) that she would be admitted to any medical school, she got offers at many top schools.

The last offer she received was the offer she had been dreaming of since 2007.

Anna will be attending Columbia University Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons!

Our family has always tried to focus less on her accomplishments and more on who Anna is in her core — a beautiful human who is kind and empathetic and knows how to get us all laughing when we need it — but today we want to focus on this incredible accomplishment!

Anna — We are so proud of who you are as a human and all the beauty add to the world. AND we are super proud of your determination and hard work and brilliant mind. YOU are going to do amazing things!

AMAZING THINGS are indeed HAPPENING!!!!!!

Love, Jess

a new routine

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The house is too quiet.

It’s weird not having Booger here.

When is he getting back?

My new work schedule had us needing to adjust Jack’s care. Many of my clients are teens, so I’m working late afternoons/evenings several days a week. After juggling things around, we decided the best idea was for Jack to sleep at his other family’s house on Thursday nights.

Jack loves leaving the house on Thursday mornings knowing his other mother, Maria, will pick him up from his adult program and bring him to her home where he gets to enjoy her wonderful cooking, feeding their chickens and spending time with his other sister, Jamilla. 

Initially, Dan and I were rather excited about having a little taste of an empty nest one day a week. Over the years we’ve watched our peers have freedom that we thought we would never experience.  And, the last few weeks we have enjoyed being able to have spontaneous late dinners out and not being in charge of medication and bathing and diapers on Thursdays, but these Friday mornings are strange. Our boy may not talk, but his energy is loud. 

So, every Friday morning Dan and I have the same conversation. The house is too quiet. It’s weird not having Booger here. When is he getting back?

Last night Anna came home to celebrate Dan’s birthday (HaPpY bIrThDaY Dan!) and her latest medical school acceptances. We were tempted to cancel Jack’s Thursday plan, but he seemed angry when I brought hit up, so he was with his other family last night as the three of us spent time together trying to fill in the gaps of Jack’s laughter. It was a nice night, but he was missed.

As soon as Anna came downstairs this morning she repeated our Friday morning mantra — The house is too quiet. It’s weird not having Booger here. When is he getting back?

I just got off of Facetime with Jack and he was all smiles as Maria filled us in on how they made pizza last night, listened to Jamilla play her guitar and had a big breakfast. He loves his weekly adventures. And Dan and I do like our new routine, but it is going to take us a while to become accustomed to these quiet Friday mornings.

Love, Jess

Ever wonder?

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Ever wonder what life would look like if the worst thing hadn’t happened?

Ever close your eyes and try to picture yourself going through the motions of life as it was supposed to be?

When Jack first got sick, I would wake up each morning forgetting our new reality briefly. Then it would sink in.

That first year, I could easily picture what life would have looked like had Jack not been diagnosed with a disease that within months had left him both medically fragile and fully dependent. Jack would have finished second grade over at the Marshall School. He would have continued playing little league for another year or so (but was probably getting close to breaking the news to Dan that it wasn’t really his sport). Anna would have had hair down to her waist instead of missing that 10 inches that she’d donated to Locks of Love. I would have been dreading those crazy weekends before the holidays when everyone in town NEEDED their family portraits done. And Dan’s job would have been flourishing, knowing all his ducks were in a row at home. 

We also would have taken that trip to Puerto Rico that we had to replace with an extended stay in the hospital.

A couple of years into our new life, I needed to concentrate a little more to get the visual of what life would have looked like if the worst thing hadn’t happened. Even before his disease made a mess in Jack’s brain, he was never into organized sports — certainly not the way kids play sports these days. By middle school, I pictured him being one of those kids with a skateboard in hand and holes in his jeans that were earned, not purchased. His beautiful smile making even the cranky neighbors forgive him for cutting through their lawn and paying music too loud with his buddies. Without being exposed so early to the power of science, Anna may have chosen to focus on her other love — art. She might have had parents who paid a little more attention to her – to her schedule, her needs. I might have given up family portraits to go back to teaching art full time. As a family we might have even gone abroad for a few years taking advantage of a job opportunity for Dan.

Now this fictional story of how life was supposed to be is impossible to imagine. As much as I tried not to let it happen, Jack’s disease has been the center of our lives for 16 years. It has defined our family. Jack didn’t finish his time at the Marshal School, he never returned to little league or rode a skateboard. He didn’t go to college or trade school. Instead, he went to special schools for the multiply disabled, has become accustomed to needing help with everything from eating to toileting, and had to learn how to make that magical smile of his be his only source of communication. 

But things aren’t so bad.

Jack’s in an adult program now where a typical day involves pushing his friend’s wheelchairs, doing simple arts and crafts, being fed by an aide, and laughing. Anna is on her way to medical school in a few short months (her likely focus is reproductive endocrinology – a specialty we’d never known existed before this new life). Dan has enjoyed a wonderful career in finance, but his priorities include having the flexibility to be able to get Jack up in the morning – hearing them in the bathroom listening to 70s on 7 as Dan bathes his only son is how I wake up each morning. And my life is completely a result of the worst thing that ever-happened to us. I’m a writer, an advocate, a therapist – all things that would have been — not just unlikely, but impossible 16 years ago. Impossible without living through the worst thing in our lives.

If I could — I would change our journey. I would trade all this for what life had promised us before the worst thing happened. There is a reason I still call it the worst thing that ever happened. BUT it did happen and it left, not just scars, but the knowledge that we can heal. That we can survive and even thrive. 

So I try to look at our family now without thinking too much about the before and after the worst thing. I try to focus on who we are and what we are doing now. Maybe this is life as it is supposed to be.

Last month our family finally took that trip to Puerto Rico. It may not have been the trip it would have been without the worst thing, but it was beautiful. 

Love, Jess

packing up

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Craving sun and time just the four of us, we’re heading to Puerto Rico tomorrow for a long weekend. The timing is a little wacky with the start of my new job, but it was planned months ago. Thank goodness for a flexible boss.

I’ve spent every free moment this week preparing for the trip. Making sure we’re all set for our friend to care for the house and the doggies, making sure my fingers and toes are fresh and pretty, picking up sunscreen and travel shampoos, and packing. Packing for a trip is complicated for our family. It’s not just clothes and toiletries, it’s the diapers and medications and pee mattes. It’s the thinking of all the what ifs and making sure we’re ready for anything that might come up. Five days away has somehow created five large suitcases. 

Still – I feel like I’m forgetting something.

We’ve taken big trips with Jack in the past, but it’s been a few years since we’ve flown anywhere with him. We’re lucky (and grateful) to have one set of grandparents with a lovely home just an hour away in Tuxedo Park, NY and another set with a beautiful place in Block Island, RI. Loading up for those trips is a challenge, but there’s no need to worry about a forgotten item or two. There are local stores and Amazon delivers quickly. For this trip we want to make sure we don’t forget a thing. AND then there’s the other lingering concerns – like potential winter weather and getting Jack on and off airplanes without any incidents!!

Crossing our fingers for no poops at 36,000 feet!

Traveling with Jack is not easy, but what great things in life ARE EASY??? There may be a poop emergency along the way or perhaps an extra stop or two for some hydration through his g-tube, but there will also be long, magical walks along the beach where Jack’s mindful pace allows us to relax and really enjoy the view. We’ll get to spend time with Anna and hear all about her gap year escapades. We’ll get to watch Jack’s expression as he tries new foods and witness him charm the locals.

No matter where we are, Jack seems to gain more fans. 

Time with our family of four is always filled with adventure and laughter. Add sand, delicious food and the smell of sunscreen — and we’re all set. I promise to share photos when we get back.

Love, Jess

We’ve rented a lovely little home right on the water. Although the views and beautiful little pool for JackO were selling points — it was the washer / dryer that really sold us. Life with Jack is beautiful, and often a little messy.

Lucky Number 31!

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Monday, December 5th, NJ began screening newborns for ALD. They are the 31st state in our country that has added ALD to their newborn screening panel. 

What does that mean? 

It means that people in NJ will no longer receive a late diagnosis for ALD. 

What does that mean? 

It means that families will now be provided with knowledge and the power to monitor their children and treat ALD if/when needed. 

What does that mean? 

Jack’s story will be part of the history of our disease.

I try not to focus on the what ifs, but I will to help explain the enormity of this news. What if ALD been part of the newborn screening panel in NJ 25 years ago? We would have known that Jack had ALD shortly after his birth. We would have likely struggled to hear this news about our perfect, chubby, healthy first born, but we would have gotten through it and moved forward. We would have learned about ALD and found doctors who knew the disease. We would have been prepared. When Jack was a young boy, we would have recognized that Jack’s reactions to a simple illness where a result of adrenal insufficiency and that his behavior was not defiance or ADHD. We would not have wasted time. We would have gotten him treatment sooner. Had ALD been part of NJ newborn screening panel 25 years ago, Jack would have had a stem cell transplant earlier and he would likely be living a very typical life today.

It’s not just the pain we could have avoided. It’s not just the lack of words and independence and need for constant care. NJ spent well over $1,000,000 on Jack’s education. He now receives SSI, Medicaid, and support from DDD — and will for his entire life. Jack’s life is complicated/fragile, and he is also expensive to care for – for us/our state/our country.

So, this is a win WIN for future parents, NJ, taxpayers, and people who believe in the power of science!

I shared this news on social media yesterday and received a lot of notes assuming our family had a large role in this exciting development. We are very small fish in this beautiful pond. Elisa Seeger and the ALD Alliance, Taylor Kane and Remember the Girls, ALD Connect, and the piles and piles of doctors, parents and advocates made this happen!!! 

There are still too many states who are NOT testing for ALD. If you live in one of those states, please let me know and I will connect you with people who can help you help to make it happen.

Love, Jesse

tHaNkS Team Torrey!!!

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How many people does it take to care for our boy?

A lot.

Day 14 with a broken rib. Although I’m healing, I’m still not able to do much for Jack these days. Showering, changing, toileting, medicating, feeding – none of these things are particularly difficult, but there’s the Jack factor. Jack moves and grabs and hugs – it’s the hugs that scare me most – they’re magical, but I worry they could be dangerous!! 

Some samples of the (potentially dangerous) Jack HUG!!!!!

So, I haven’t been doing much other than watching bad tv, studying for the National Counselors Exam, and counting my blessings that Jack has an amazing team of people who have stepped up to help out.

Dan has taken on the brunt of the responsibilities, but he has a job. Anna is home now for a few days – yahoo (she had offered to come home sooner, but she had a cold – if you’ve ever broken a rib, you will understand that a cold is terrifying). Luckily, Jack also has an arsenal of other mothers, and they’ve been amazing! Maria, Monica, and Lilly have all been keeping Jack entertained, fed and clean. And, we have a new addition – Natalie. We’ve known Nat since she was a tiny thing. She’s one of Anna’s best friends and she’s now a nurse. She offered to bring her skills and hang with our boy as needed. Lucky Jack – lucky us!

So, I continue to sit, watch bad tv, study for the National Counselors Exam, and count my blessings.

Thanks everyone for being me! I look forward to being able to care for our boy again (and enjoy one of Jack’s magical/dangerous hugs), but it sure is nice to know that Jack has a team who is ready, willing and able to help!!!

Love, Jess

a walk, a fall, and a kick in the ass

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The dogs and I have been enjoying a new daily walk for a couple of weeks. Half the walk is through our neighborhood and then we slip into the woods for a while. Not only is it beautiful, but it’s great for the dogs to get a change of scene full of new smells and it’s good for me. My feet sometimes get a little lost. The only way I can explain it is that I don’t really feel them. They do what they need to do most of the time, but sometimes they need a little attention. Steps, curbs, crowds, rocks – they can all be challenges. I’ve learned that if I focus on them and where they are headed, I’m fine. A mile in the woods is good for me, my soul, my brain, and my feet.

Yesterday the dogs and I had a lovely walk (for a while). The crisp air and autumn leaves were beautiful. We walked out of the woods and turned the corner to head back into our neighborhood when suddenly it was like I was lifted into the air. I knew I was falling but couldn’t really figure out how to safely land – my feet seemed tangled. I hit the asphalt on my right shoulder and face.

Adrenaline helped me get off the ground and treats helped me lure the dogs to come back to me. I tasted blood and worried I may have broken a tooth and was relieved that they were all intact. Then I checked to make sure my legs were okay. Except for scrapped knees, they were fine. I found my phone in the leaves, dialed Dan’s number and started crying. Poor guy was in CA heading to the airport to come home. It took him a few minutes to understand what had happened and assured me that he would stay on the phone with me. I started walking, anxious to get home. A few steps in, my chest felt tight. By the time I got to our front door I was a basket case. Dan and I agreed that I needed to get to the ER.

I called my mother next. Her years at the Red Cross makes her as close to a doctor as our family has until Anna gets her degree. She agreed that I needed to get to the ER to see if I had broken a rib or two. I then called my friend Jen who dropped what she was doing and within minutes pulled into the driveway to take me to Urgent Care.

Apparently, there is not much to do for a broken rib – ibuprofen, acetaminophen and use of a breathing thingy (incentive spirometer) every hour. Oh, and “avoid recurrent injury to the affected area”. The doctor was friendly enough but didn’t seem to appreciate what it looks like to be Jack’s primary caregiver OR take much interest in why I fell.

I did managed to get some sleep last night and am now trying to figure out how to get through the next few weeks as this rib is healing. I have a dog walker coming every day, Jack’s other mothers are chipping in, and Dan has already gotten Jack up and out to school, made the beds and started the laundry. I hate this sudden need to cancel life for a few weeks but figure I will spend this time studying for the National Counselors Exam, preparing for the ALD Connect Annual Meeting and Learning Academy (I’m speaking this year and a little nervous), and working on some workshop ideas I have been thinking about. I’m also going to start making some appointments for me to see doctors who understand ALD. My balance, my bladder, my ghost feet – these are all likely results of ALD. This fall has not just broken a rib but it has kicked me in the ass — It’s time for me to make my health a priority so that I can continue to care for others.

Love, Jess

look what we just got!!!

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We’ve lived in SOMA (South Orange/Maplewood) for 25 years. We’ve owned three homes here, had two kids here, and raised 4 dogs here (some more successfully than others). We’ve celebrated many happy moments here and experienced our hardest days here. SOMA will always be our home.

There are many reasons to love our towns — the easy access to NYC, our charming villages filled with cute stores and excellent restaurants, schools that managed to educate our two very different children, South Mountain Reservation, and the people. The people of SOMA are what really make our community a treasure. 

We’re honored to be the cover family in this month’s SOMA Living Magazine. Thank you, Michael Goldberg, Karen Driggs, and Jamie Meier (www.livelovelens.shootproof.com), for putting this all together and sharing our family’s story. We wish Anna could have made it to the shoot, but we did FaceTime her. I wonder if this should be our holiday card this year🤪😂🥰

Love, Jess

If you live in SOMA, you should be receiving your copy of SOMA Living Magazine soon. If you live out of town, you can catch a glimpse here — http://somalivingmagazine.com/

where did the tears come from?

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Every month I speak to medical students from Rutgers University. It’s a small group of third year students who are in their pediatric rotation. I’m a “patient representative” who is there to share our family’s story and the good and bad of what we’ve experienced with doctors. I look forward to these Zoom sessions and am always impressed with the students and appreciate being able to sneak in as much as I can about ALD — the often missed signs of ALD and the importance of newborn screening.

After we go around doing introductions, I share the video that bluebird bio made about our family. It’s a great way for the students to learn a bit about our journey and “meet the family”. While the video plays, I usually take the opportunity to slip away from my desk to make a cup of tea or check in with Dan and Jack. Last night I sat and watched the video with the students.

I found myself in tears.

I did regain my composure by the time the video was over and got through the next hour and a half managing to hold it together as I shared stories of working with many exceptional doctors and some who were lacking empathy and/or the ability to recognize when they may need more education about our not as rare as you might think disease. I always try to be approachable and relaxed, using humor to make everyone as comfortable as possible as I share stories about witnessing our son unravel, searching for answers, receiving a life-threatening diagnosis, watching as our once typical, healthy son fight for his life, and learning to adapt to a life that none of us ever imagined. I’ve done this enough that I can let the words just flow. I did a fine job, but I couldn’t help feeling distracted.

After the session, I got up and went directly into Jack’s room, knowing that time with the boy would brighten my mood. We sat and watched The Impractical Jokers and laughed until it was time for us to get ready for bed. I did feel much better after spending time with him.  Jack is doing great. He loves his adult program and time with his other mothers AND can comfortably live at home. His health continues to be stable and, except for an occasional tear shed while watching those ASPCA ads, he always has a bright smile on his face. 

Although I felt better, as I tried to fall asleep last night, I kept thinking about my reaction to watching the video. My only explanation for yesterday’s tears is that it’s been a while since I let myself really focus on what we went through 15 years ago. Sure – I share it, but I remove myself as much as I can from the story. I fill in as many of the dark spots with humor and light. It’s how I survive.

If I were my own therapist, I would ask myself how this strategy is working, and I think my answer would be that it’s working pretty well — I don’t want to live in the dark. I want to live in the light. I want to enjoy all the good our family has experienced and not waste time with the what ifs. BUT maybe sometimes I should consider allowing myself some time to be frustrated or mad or sad. I’m not sure how or when, but I will sure try to avoid doing it in front of a screen full of students.

Love, Jess