Cystinosis

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    Community Voices

    The Art of Living

    Part 1 of 2 My daughter, Laura was born with #Cystinosis . Laura went through so many struggles medically in her life. Laura was a firm believer in science, in the potential treatments to be found, in making life better for the next person, always happily being a guinea pig for any medical study that came along. She didn’t long for a cure, she longed to live the best life possible. #Cystinosis was just part of who she was, like being a 4’10 blondie.

    In 2017 when Laura’s first #Transplant failed. She quickly began hemodialysis, and it was awful. Laura ended up with uncontrolled blood pressure which made her brain swell. For days, she couldn’t communicate other than to make the “Ma” sound. She was in this spastic body and you saw her fear and frustration in her eyes. She developed #Clostridiumdifficile while she was in the hospital and I quickly learned in the ICU they could not diaper her. Let me tell you it was amazingly gross; the poop literally flew. The #Spasticity that was happening added to the mess. She was scared, you could see it in her wild always open eyes, and she wanted to be touched every moment. We took turns sleeping in shifts so someone could have a hand on her 24/7. The doctors said she may need step down care, rehab type care which was so very scary. As she began regaining her mind and the swelling subsided I walked into her ICU room to see her on her knees on the bed singing “Despacito” at the top of her lungs swaying to her tune. Laura was coming back. It was decided that she would come to my house and live. She and her two dogs came to my house after this hospital stay. It was rough in the beginning. The dogs were wild and Laura was so very confused. She would wake up yelling for me not sure where she was, in some ways like a child. As she came back to herself, she told me when she couldn’t communicate she was in an episode of Modern Family, her mind took her away to another place that was safe from the pain. She could not drive at this time and I recruited people to give her rides to or from dialysis. Hemodialysis was rough. She would come home wiped out, legs cramping. She had minimal energy, sleeping tons, lots of headaches. We were taught to do peritoneal dialysis (PD). We went to classes and sat through days at clinic so SHE could take control of her healthcare. A new port put in and we found out that Dobby (her first transplanted kidney) was dead inside her and needed to come out immediately. She got through yet another surgery and she moved onto PD. She settled into the routine of 4 exchanges a day, every 6 hours, time windows for fun. She could have used the cycler machine at night but she worried how that would affect her dogs and her sleep. Laura valued her dogs and sleep way more than anything else.

    Laura’s life over those few years was rough. She learned to have a clean car so she could do her exchanges as she chased adventure. And she did have adventures, she went to Miami and Los Angeles for festivals, to London and Ireland for two weeks and saw her beloved Harry Potter sets, Arizona, Philadelphia a couple of times, places that I can’t remember because she was always planning her next adventure. She adapted to her new reality which was what Laura was- adaptable. When life threw another curve ball and her foot was fractured and needed surgery. She adapted. Even as a child when she would constantly throw up, she accepted it, made it just something she did and moved on. She didn’t know the words, “You can’t do this” or maybe “you are just too sick or hurt”. Once she figured out how to make her life work around whatever obstacle she started making plans. The girl was a planner. We had so many plans, lists of places to go, people to see.

    But, in October of 1999 Laura was hospitalized and this time was different. when I walked into the hospital room I knew she may not recover. This time might be the one she couldn’t overcome. As the days progressed, she could not even give a feeble thumbs up, her eyes were closed and minimally reactive. I started trying to adopt her bravery, I had to face that my girl may not be able to come home again. Laura didn’t like you to dwell in sadness, she wanted giggles and grins and that was what I needed to give her. On October 15th at 11:30am she left this world surrounded with laughter through tears and boundless love.

    The best thing about Laura was she loved her people. She collected them like seashells, that, I like to think, she got from me. Once she made you part of her heart you resided there forever. And you were lucky. To be loved by Laura meant tons of laughs, singing at the top of your lungs barreling

    Community Voices

    The Art of Living

    Part 2 of 2 down a highway or at singo, being drug around whatever city as she checked things off her list, or you just being lost for the potential of what you may find. Laura lived, fully, completely, and fiercely and she accepted all with grace. She never wasted a moment waiting for the perfect time, NOW was the perfect time. She left us quickly, the amoeba that attacked her brain made her last days heartbreakingly silent. I was privileged to be with my girl when she burst into this world and as she quietly left. With Laura, I knew, that she was on loan. My logical brain knew that there was a high probability that I would outlive my precious squirrel, but no matter what the logical brain tells your heart, you always hope. It was an honor to be her mother, it was a privilege that I tried to live up to. I sometimes failed her, but she always forgave my shortcomings. I have no regrets in our #Relationships – she knew how great I thought she was. My heart is shattered. I know this sadness will always be in me because my girl is gone. She decided to go on her next adventure because that is what she believed death was- the next adventure, and I have no doubt she is having a blast wherever she is wandering.

    My hope now is that we all live as she did. Love people, be kind, smile, and dance when you hear music.

    It’s not goodbye after all.

    I wrote this and read it at her memorial service, I kept trying to channel her spirit. I keep writing and I still feel like I cannot capture who she was- her spirit was so powerful. I never realized how much of my brain was wrapped around her. The double-edged sword of being the mom of someone who struggles to live their whole life is such a gift and a curse. The ebb and flow of life and love leaves you questioning so much of your existence. What matters? I have so many regrets for the years that I lived overwhelmed. I wasted so much precious time. Sadness taking over so much of my being, I gave up years of time to it. I allowed my fears and sorrow for what wasn’t, to take what I wanted the most- time. Funny how you have no clue what you are doing when you are in it. I think that would be my do over- to have those years when I struggled with even getting out of bed, the #Depression and fear clouding my mind. I guess the moral of all this is that drowning in perceived pain can steal the very thing you so wish you had. I had love but I was unable to see it, I had moments but I let sadness take over and gave that time away. That is a hard pill to swallow, but living in regret is no better. Living for now, even with pain in my heart, is better than wishing away what is beautiful today.

    To encourage others living with #Cystinosis and their siblings reach for their dreams I have established the “Live Like Laura Fun Fund” in her memory with the #Cystinosis Research Network. My vision is to help people realize the what ifs, the if only, and help them have the great memories that adventures give us. Life, even when you are chronically ill, is to be lived. My hope is that I can help someone who may have forgotten how to dream and live a chance to find that joy again. That would make my girl happy.

    Community Voices

    Here’s to all the brave young adult cystinosis patients ,moving forward with trials helping to change the direction of this disease for the next generation #truewarriors
    #Cystinosis #fearless

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    Clinton Moore

    Strength: Lives Touched by Cystinosis

    The following is an excerpt from the book, “Strength: Lives Touched by Cystinosis“ Our story starts in much the same way as many other cystinosis families. Everything at birth was “normal” and soon we settled back at home with a tiny baby adjusting to our new life. But like many of the cystinosis beginnings, it was about to change. When my son, Chandler, turned about 10 months old, we noticed he had a thirst that could not be quenched. When we held him near the kitchen sink he reached at it, as he knew that’s where the water was. He guzzled it like I have never seen. We immediately called his pediatrician. She ordered labs and then it was a waiting game for the results. When the tests came back she called and informed us we needed to head to the only children’s hospital in Delaware, A.I.Dupont Hospital for Children. In the days to come it was a steady flow of doctors and nurses trying desperately to put the pieces together. Seemed like hourly they wanted more blood or took him for another test. Day after day it continued, lots of people, but no answers. After nine long days a “suspected” diagnosis was finally made, but we had to be transported to another children’s hospital in Pennsylvania for confirmation. Two weeks later it was confirmed: Chandler had cystinosis. Once back home and adjusting to our “new normal” we began our own research of what cystinosis was. The Internet can be a place full of knowledge and explanation, but can also fuel fears and worries. We learned all the do’s and don’ts of this illness and what to expect in the coming years. We learned of experimental treatments for corneal crystals and the history of cysteamine. We also learned there were several advocacy groups already established doing wonderful things. These groups seemed to have everything covered from fundraising, to raising awareness, to funding research. We read many stories from other families who were involved in these groups and I honestly didn’t think I needed to do anything as they were already doing so much. I knew I couldn’t make a difference as I am only one person and my comfort zone really isn’t much larger than your average cookie. So for the next eight years I did nothing but treat my son and kept faith that all the ones who were involved in the battle against cystinosis would continue. I really thought all that could be done for cystinosis was already being done. So why get involved? Over this time period I continued reading stories of families who held fundraisers. Certainly not something I had ever attempted before, but I found myself constantly thinking maybe I should. I really doubted I could pull it off or raise much money. Little did we know Chandler overheard our conversations and told us we should try because we were already doing a small event at our home every Christmas anyways. So the next thing we knew, we were planning our first ever cystinosis fundraiser. During the last few weeks before this event, I found myself frantically handing out flyers to anyone willing to take one. I hung them in store windows, left them on counters, even had them on our local news. I wanted it to be a success and it turned out to be just that, but not in the way I thought. You see, our particular fundraiser has a lot of moving parts, a lot of details, required many hours of planning and also brought a lot of stress. I actually convinced myself this would be my first, and my last. That’s was until my phone rang…   The lady on the other end of the call had many questions, and even though she never came out and said it, she had me convinced she wanted to donate. She requested we meet at her home a few hours later, and right on time, I was ringing her doorbell. As I waited for her to open the door, I expected to meet a nice, understanding person, who after a few minutes of talking would give me a donation and then I’d be on my way. I was in for a surprise. When the door opened, I was greeted by an angry lady, yelling at me and waving one of our flyers in my face. She basically screamed at me, asking how I expected her to believe what was on the flyer. She continued with her rant and told me cystinosis was not even a real illness because she had never heard of it, “It’s all made up,” she said, “So you can get people to donate and you can pocket the money!” I was floored. Nearly speechless. I assured her it was a real illness because my son had it and I even directed her to a couple websites to prove it. She told me the websites were also created by me to make my lie even more believable. I ended this rant by saying, “Ma’am, if you don’t feel comfortable donating, then please don’t.” I then left her step and drove home. I have not seen or spoken to this lady since, and now that my anger has far gone, I do feel I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. For it was her who gave me a true look as to just how much work needed to be done. There is still a great need for raising awareness and educating the public about this illness. If not for her, I’m not sure I would have continued my quest to change the future of this illness. I was convinced to never do another fundraiser again, due to the amount of work it took to do our first. Now we have just completed our third and most successful one yet. If not for her, I would likely never have known that cystinosis was so unheard of. If not for her, I would not be where I am today. If not for her, I may have given up. So to the lady in the big brick house…..thank you! We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here . Thinkstock image by samiola

    Amanda Buck

    Comic Book 'The Super Cysteamine Team' Explains Cystinosis to Kids

    Living with a rare disease can be lonely. My daughter is only one of three people (that we know of) in our entire province who has cystinosis. And with only an estimated 2,000 worldwide living with cystinosis, I often worry about her feeling isolated and misunderstood as she grows up. It can’t be easy being the only one of your peers who needs more than 10 doses of medication throughout the day. My heart breaks to know that not even her own family, me included, will truly know what it’s like for her. I’m constantly trying to figure out how I can support her, normalize her everyday life and show her there are children out there just like her. Recently the Cystinosis Research Network (CRN) did something incredible. They published and distributed one of the coolest forms of patient education ever: a comic book. I first saw some pages as part of the CRN’s “Dream, Achieve, Inspire” art exhibit by artist Kevin McCalla. McCalla, who also lives with cystinosis, created a sub cellular universe where the battle for a young boy’s health is fought between good and evil. Portraying the amino acid cystine, which cannot be properly transported out of my daughter’s cells, as diabolical villains wreaking havoc on Kidney Cell City’s lysosome recycling plant is genius! And with their minions, the Fanconi criminal organization (for her kidney disease, Fanconi’s syndrome), it looks like Kidney Cell City is lost. That is, until the boy wakes up and takes his dose of Cysteamine. Hidden in each pill is the Super Cysteamine Team, crime fighting, cystine butt-kicking superheroes there to make sure the evil cystine will never have control of the young boy’s body. It’s an amazing and imaginative way to explain what cystinosis does to the cells in my daughter’s body and also enforces the importance of taking her medication. Her main life-sustaining medication, Cysteamine, often leaves her feeling sick and nauseous, and as she gets older it will be harder to convince her that despite its awful side effects it is actually keeping her healthy. “The Super Cysteamine Team” comic book series puts a cool spin on having to take these medications. Non-compliance is a big issue for many adolescents and young adults and my hope is that this comic book will make a lasting impression on her. When the only funding for cystinosis research comes from family and friends’ fundraising efforts, we’re always thinking about better treatments and defeating new issues. But things like raising awareness and patient support are also integral to making a difference in the lives of those affected by the disease. I am so, so grateful for initiatives like the CRN and artists like Kevin McCalla who have seen the need for these innovative support systems and work tirelessly to see this need is met. My Facebook feed has recently been filled with photos of children and teens excitedly clutching their copy of “The Super Cysteamine Team” comic book, and the smiles on their faces are truly priceless. While my daughter may be only one of three people in British Columbia living with cystinosis I know with certainty we will not be the only ones anxiously awaiting the arrival of issue number 2. If you’d like a copy of “The Super Cysteamine Team” head here. We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here .

    Amanda Buck

    Parent Overcomes Fear to Advocate for Child With Cystinosis

    I never had an interest in public speaking. In fact, I avoided it as much as humanly possible. It always made me think of those times in high school when I had to present a project to the class. My heart beat so fast I could barely breathe and my voice trembled as I tried to rush through the presentation as fast as possible. So it’s no surprise that I never followed any paths that led towards public speaking in my post-secondary school years. Until my life took a new direction. Since my daughter’s diagnosis almost three years ago, my goals and the way I live my life have dramatically changed. Cystinosis is such a rare disease that most people only hear of it because they know someone affected. I aim to change that. Though there are only an estimated one 1 in 100,000 to 200,000 people worldwide living with cystinosis, it shouldn’t limit the amount of people we can educate. All we need are people willing to listen. I began writing about our journey with cystinosis on my personal blog and got the bug for writing about it on other sites after The Mighty published a letter I wrote to cystinosis . I realized this could be the way I get cystinosis out there, so I began submitting to parenting sites. I was thrilled to be able to share my stories and spread some awareness to an audience who would have never found their way to my blog on their own. One day I saw a casting call for the first Listen to Your Mother Vancouver show. A show that invited people to read their stories related to motherhood on stage — in front of a live audience. I knew it would be an incredible opportunity to advocate for my daughter and cystinosis, but I immediately dismissed it as something I simply would never be able to do. But it stayed in my mind, tugging at my fear of public speaking and daring me to do it anyway. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my daughter’s diagnosis, it’s that this life is fleeting. It’s too short to worry about silly things like what others might think of me. And it’s definitely too short to let my fear stop me from doing what I want, and certainly from doing things I hope will make a difference. Choking back my fear and the rising urge to hide trembling under my bed covers, I booked myself into an audition spot and began rehearsing like crazy! I’d just written an essay I thought would be perfect. It talked generally about my motherhood journey and my dislike of the phrase, “as long as it’s healthy.” In my opinion it was universal while still a personal testament to my experience. A couple months later I was surprised to learn the producers felt the same way! Somehow I managed to make it through my audition without my voice breaking, though I was pretty sure my heart was only seconds away from pushing right out of my chest, and then I was officially a cast member. The cast of women speaking at LTYM Vancouver On April 30th, 2016, I got on that stage with 12 other incredible women and bared my soul in front of almost 300 people. I told others how much my daughter meant to me and how her disease didn’t make her less than any “healthy” child. I fought back tears when I explained how much joy she brought us and how grateful I was to have her in my life. And I made it through, despite my lifelong fear of public speaking. You can watch the video of my speech below: At the end of the show I was in the crowd speaking with my friends and family who had come to support me when a woman I’d never met before introduced herself. She started with “hello” then immediately broke into tears. She began telling me about her daughter who had cystic fibrosis and that she completely understood how I felt. She thanked me for sharing my story and I was at such a loss for words that I gave her a hug and thanked her right back. Giving my speech at LTYM Vancouver This show has been one of the most powerful experiences of my life. It started with my desire to raise awareness but ended with me growing as a person, conquering my fear and connecting with a stranger on a deeply profound level. And I have my daughter — and ultimately cystinosis — to thank for it. Without them, I would have never even started writing and most certainly would not have gotten up on that stage. As difficult as cystinosis can be sometimes, it is now an integral part of our lives and I can’t help but be grateful for some of the lessons it has taught me. You can read the full version of Amanda’s essay on Coffee + Crumbs. Follow this  journey on Elsinosis.

    Amanda Buck

    When I Began Telling Others About My Daughter's Cystinosis

    Alone, terrified and heartbroken — t hat’s how I felt when my daughter was diagnosed with cystinosis. I didn’t know what it was, had never even heard of it before, but this disease was inside my little girl. Wreaking havoc on her tiny body. It wasn’t yet officially confirmed, just a word casually dropped by the ophthalmologist when he checked her eyes for cystine crystals, a symptom of the disease. He’d assumed the nephrologist had already told us their suspicions, and he probably thought he was helping to ease my worry by confirming it. What he didn’t do was bother to explain it. Just prescribed some eye drops and sent us on our way. So my husband and I turned to Google, and my heart shattered. Reading the symptoms, I knew. I knew this disease might be responsible for her declining appetite and poor growth. All those times I thought she was just a picky eater, or slow to develop, cystinosis was there, damaging her kidneys. She was only 15 months old. How could this be happening? There were terrifying terms and complications being thrown around. My despair grew by the minute. I could feel it, dark and heavy, blurring my vision with tears and crushing my heart. Even with my husband by my side, the loneliness I felt in my grief was all consuming. Not having an official diagnosis, we hesitated in telling our family. Talking about it was confirmation that it was actually real. When something happens to your child, the one who relied on you to protect them, the pain can be excruciating. Reliving that and sharing it with others can be too much to bear. A day later, I headed back to work. hoping to have something to distract me from my pain. The ride there was difficult, and I had a hard time keeping it together. Immediately I regretted my decision to give it a try. But when I arrived, I had tasks to complete and clients to assist, and I quickly found that keeping busy was actually working, at least temporarily. It was the small talk with co-workers that proved to be too much for me. I couldn’t exchange niceties and answer questions about our plans for the weekend while pretending that nothing was wrong. Quickly I found myself mustering up the courage to spit out the words that had been haunting me for two days: “My daughter has cystinosis.” They say the truth will set you free, and though I hadn’t been lying to myself, my silence had caged me with my pain. When I let out those words, I felt the pain that had wound itself tight around me begin to loosen. As it unfolded, some of it began to edge away from me. I could see it in the glistening eyes of my co-workers as I explained all I knew. That’s when I realized how many people cared about me and my family. Speaking with them about the yet-to-be-officially-diagnosed condition my daughter had was not unnecessarily burdening them. They wanted to help, to be there. We were not alone in our new reality. There were people willing to lift us up and support us during this difficult time. When I got home, I told my husband how relieved I felt to share and talk with others, so we made plans to see his parents the next day. Every time we opened up and let people in, our heavy load became a little lighter. We had a long and challenging road ahead of us, but at least we knew we would not have to travel it alone. By not talking about it, we had given cystinosis more power than it deserved. My daughter is stronger, and so are we — w ith our friends and family by our sides.

    Amanda Buck

    Advice for Parents New to Cystinosis

    Shortly after my daughter was diagnosed with cystinosis, I was lying awake in bed one night with my mind full of thoughts and me desperately trying to silence them. Then an idea popped into my head. Maybe I should start a blog. I felt scared, alone, broken and hated the idea of anyone else feeling this way. There were so many questions I had and so many unknowns in our future, and I knew there must be other parents out there who felt as I did. I wanted to help. I also hoped that writing out my feelings and the many, many thoughts that kept me up at night would give me some peace. Although I have certainly found a lot of healing therapy through writing, I can’t say it’s done much for my overall sleep. Amanda and her daughter. But my main motivation for publicly sharing our challenges and triumphs was my desire to help others, namely parents who would join our community after me. To think that I might make a challenging time in my life a little bit easier for someone else gives me hope and a deep sense of connection to the cystinosis community. And to actually have someone thank me has been so fulfilling. So I thought I’d share some of the things I’ve learned over the past couple years and the advice I would give to parents new to cystinosis. 1. Your journey is not the same as your child’s. Many say that cystinosis can often be harder on the parents than their children. I hope very much that this is true. In the beginning, I was so upset that this was happening to my daughter. Why couldn’t it be me to take all the pain? Someone so young and innocent didn’t deserve it. But right now I’m the one who’s keenly aware of the injustice. I’m the one who worries about making the right treatment choices and who frets about how much she’s eating or how much she’s growing. My daughter, however, seems happy and mostly carefree. She doesn’t know any different nor does she appear to lament it. She has the same childhood as any other kid with a few added inconveniences but, at least for the moment, the fear and the heartache seem to be all mine. I am in no way, shape or form trying to say parents have it harder. Just that you’re both hurting in different ways, and I for one find comfort in knowing that I can at least take the brunt of the emotional pain. 2. Look for the positives. That may sound like a ridiculous thing to say when your child is first diagnosed, but there are silver linings to be found. You’ll be amazed at the strength and courage that such a little person can possess, and every day will provide another opportunity to remain in awe of your child. This can also serve as either a wake-up call or a reminder that the time to live life is now. Your child deserves the most amazing life and so do you. Don’t let fears or apathy hold you back. Get out there and do it! My biggest silver lining is the amazing and supportive community of parents, caregivers and adults with cystinosis. They ease my fears, answer my questions and give me hope. 3. Be mindful about what you share. This isn’t something I overly considered until it was brought up in a writing group that I was a part of. Some people feared that in our mission to raise awareness and fundraise sometimes parents overshared and essentially took advantage of their children by using their pain and vulnerability for sympathy. Immediately, I regretted sharing a picture of my daughter. It was minutes after her nasogastric (NG) tube was inserted as she was lying with her eyes still red and face splotchy from her struggles. I shared it because she now had a visible sign that she was different. It broke my heart when they inserted it, and I thought the weary look on her face represented how tough it can be sometimes. But that picture was taken after a very traumatic event for her, and she was extremely vulnerable. How would I have felt if that had been me? Would I have wanted that moment shared on the Internet for the world to see? 4. Don’t let it scare you from having more children (if you want more). After her diagnosis, I became torn on whether or not we should have more children. We both wanted another baby, but we also worried about having another child with cystinosis. The disease was still so new to us, and we really didn’t know how it would affect our daughter longterm. Was it the kind of life we wanted to give another child? Could we handle the guilt? Since accidentally getting pregnant and having my son join our family, I have to say that my outlook on this issue has completely changed. When I was pregnant, I’d decided that I had to know if my unborn baby had cystinosis so I could be prepared and have cystagon medication ready for them to take on day one. So I had an amniocentesis done to test the fetus’s DNA, but it came with a one in 200 risk of miscarriage. Everything went well during the procedure, but that night I had some amniotic fluid leak and it was terrifying. I remember lying in bed crying my eyes out and wondering why the hell I cared so much. In that moment, it didn’t matter to me if my baby had cystinosis or not. I just wanted him to be OK. And I realized in the end that’s all that really mattered to me. Cystinosis or not, this baby was meant to be in our lives, and we were going to love him unconditionally. 5. Hate is a strong word. I have heard quite a few adults with cystinosis say that they could never hate cystinosis because it’s a part of them. Just like having freckles or brown eyes, cystinosis is in their DNA, and it has helped shape them into the person they are today. There are many awful things that can happen as a result of cystinosis. Things that I would never want anyone to endure, let alone my precious daughter. My mama bear instinct is to immediately fight and loathe anything that dare cause her harm, but on the flipside, I also love her completely and wholly. Saying that I hate cystinosis is like saying I hate a part of her and that simply isn’t true. While I dislike cystinosis and want to do anything I can to help researchers find a cure, I will never hate anything about her. 6. Let them be kids. Many parents can have a tendency to coddle their children and hold them back from things because we want to protect them and keep them safe. I’ve found this tendency gets kicked up a notch after receiving a diagnosis. My daughter is prone to overheating quickly when exerting herself and rapid dehydration when sick, so does this mean that to protect her I should keep her out of sports and avoid social gatherings every time someone isn’t feeling well? The poor girl would miss out on the many benefits of organized sports and socialization if I held her back from everything that could result in a trip to the hospital. In fact, she’d probably never leave the house! In order for her to have a well-balanced, happy life, she needs to be treated like any other kid. Yes, there are precautions that need to be taken to try and minimize her risks, and there will probably end up being certain things she simply won’t be able to do, but she also needs to be free to try, explore, get messy and live life fully. There may be things on the list that resonate with you and some things you don’t agree with and that’s completely fine. Cystinosis affects everyone differently, and my views may not make sense for your family. If that’s the case, I hope this post has at least opened your eyes to another way of thinking, but also trust in your instincts and know you’re only trying to do what’s best for your loved ones. And if you are new to this whole thing, please reach out to the community and join some support groups. We’re all here to help and answer any of your questions. Follow this journey on Elsinosis: Living with Cystinosis. The Mighty is asking the following: What’s one thing people might not know about your experience with disability, disease or mental illness, and what would you say to teach them? If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to community@themighty.com. Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio. Check out our Submit a Story page for more about our submission guidelines.

    Amanda Buck

    Why Canada Needs Your Support On Rare Disease Day

    I love someone rare. Anyone who’s ever followed my personal blog knows that. And there’s a good chance if you’re reading this, you, too, love someone rare. And that’s the ironic thing about rare diseases — they’re actually more common than you may think. In Canada, a disease is considered rare when it affects fewer than 1 in 2,000 people. About one in 12 Canadians are affected by a rare disease, roughly 67 percent of those are children. Currently there are over 7,000 known rare diseases and that number is climbing every year. With so many different diseases and each one affecting only a small and fragmented part of the population, expertise, treatment and research for each disease is extremely limited. At the moment only about 60 percent of treatments for these rare diseases are available in Canada. And most of those were approved up to six years later than the United States and Europe. My family is currently experiencing this as the drug Procysbi has been approved in the U.S. since 2013, yet it is still not available in Canada. The Canadian Organization for Rare Disorders is a wonderful organization advocating on behalf of all those affected by rare diseases by trying to implement an orphan drug policy (hello Canadian government, it’s 2016, the U.S. has had one in place since 1983 and Europe since 1999!), implementing advanced newborn screening in all provinces and territories, increasing accessibility for genetic counseling, promoting innovative research and much more. In May 2015 they released a rare disease strategy which, if implemented, would help Canada catch up to the countries that have already developed a national plan for rare diseases. Help them kick the Canadian government in the butt by signing this petition. Out of those 7,000 and counting rare diseases, about 80 percent are caused by genetics, like cystinosis. And around 50 percent of those with a rare genetic disease are children, which is most likely due to the fact that the mortality rate for genetic disease is not great. About 30 percent of children with rare diseases will not live past 5 years old. Sadly it is estimated that 95 percent of rare diseases do not have one single FDA-approved medication and with only 50 percent of rare diseases being represented by their own foundation to support research, that figure will likely not change. Global Genes is a worldwide advocacy group who’s mission is to eliminate the challenges of rare genetic diseases. Their website has some great resources including documentaries, patient stories, webinars and more. Their shop Rarehouse has some great toolkits like “Advocating for your child with a rare disease at their school” and also some cute clothing and household items to help raise awareness. I like the “My Love is Rare” T-shirt. It’s estimated that 350 million people worldwide are living with a rare disease. This is why initiatives like Rare Disease Day are so important. Separately, each rare disease and its supporters are small in number, but together we are a large group of strong and mighty advocates. When combined, rare diseases are in fact not all that rare, and those of us who are either living with or dealing with a rare disease could use everyone’s compassion and support. There are tons of events and social media campaigns happening on and around February 29 (Rare Disease Day) so check out what’s happening in your country and please support us. You may not know anyone else with cystinosis, but with 1 in 12 Canadians having a rare disease, I’m sure you know someone else with something else, and supporting this cause supports us all. The Mighty is asking the following: What’s one thing people might not know about your experience with disability, disease or mental illness, and what would you say to teach them? If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to community@themighty.com. Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio. Check out our Submit a Story page for more about our submission guidelines.

    Clinton Moore

    When My Son Wrote What He Really Thought About His Rare Disease

    My son Chandler was diagnosed with cystinosis when he was just 10 months old. He is currently 10 years old. There have been many ups and downs along this journey, with many medication adjustments, hundreds of doctor’s appointments, several surgeries, many tears and many laughs. Cystinosis is a rare genetic metabolic disease. It causes an amino acid called cystine to accumulate in various organs. The cystine will crystalize and cause damage to those organs. The kidneys and eyes are typically affected. There are only an estimated 2,000 people in the world with cystinosis, and 500 of them live in the U.S. Clinton’s son, Chandler. One thing I have tried to implant in his brain is that even with this illness, anything is possible. I tell him constantly there is nothing he can’t do if he sets his mind to it and gives it his all. One of my favorite things he often says to me is, “Cystinosis can tag along, or I will drag it.” He refuses to let cystinosis stop him from anything, even if it makes it more challenging. One thing Chandler rarely ever does is talk about his feelings related to cystinosis, how it makes him feel or what he thinks about it. That was until September 2015, when we attended a cystinosis town hall meeting. There, Chandler got to spend time with other young cystinosis patients away from us parents. They could do and say whatever they wanted. It was an amazing experience for him to not be the only one taking all the medications and eye drops. All the other kids were doing the same thing as him. All the patients had time to spend with a mentor, and she showed them different ways to express their feelings about their illness. Unfortunately, the weekend quickly came to an end and we went back home. Chandler’s essay about cystinosis. After about a week back to the normal grind, Chandler came home from school and said he had something he wanted to show us. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded-up sheet of paper and handed it to me. He said his class had some spare time, and their teacher told them to do some reading or writing. He said he decided to write some of his feelings about cystinosis. When I unfolded the paper, I read these words: “Having cystinosis is hard. It involves a lot of pills and a lot of surgeries. Eventually you will have to get a kidney transplant. Also, you have crystals in your eyes and you have to take eye drops to help. And yes, this stuff gets annoying, but I don’t care as long as I’m still here. I will keep doing it.”** At first I was shocked Chandler had opened up and written this. He had never done it before. Just these few words have taught me so much. Rare diseases are tough. But no matter what it is you’re going through, you must keep pushing on. No matter how tough it gets, you have to keep fighting. Never give up. No matter what they say the future holds, you have to live every day to the fullest. None of us are promised tomorrow. Live today like it’s your last day. The Mighty is asking the following: What’s one unexpected source of comfort when it comes to your (or a loved one’s) disability, disease or mental illness? If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to community@themighty.com. Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio. Check out our Submit a Story page for more about our submission guidelines. **This passage has been modified for clarity.