Sunday, February 26, 2023
Turbocharged Living
Thursday, December 15, 2022
Advent angels
The liturgical season of Advent has long been my favorite time of the church year. As a child I enjoyed the urgency and drama of Mary and Joseph needing a place to have their baby, and ending up in a stable. Of course, I didn't meet my first lamb or cow until I was 22, living on a 16th century farm in Cornwall, England. So, my bucolic, childhood visions of a manger did not include mud or manure. I saw my first baby born at a teaching hospital in the Bronx, and there were no mammals other than those in scrubs with masks and gloves. I did deliver a footling breech baby in a thatched hut in rural Guatemala, which actually exceeded the drama and urgency of anything I might have imagined as a youngster during the 1950s and 60s in the steel town of Lorain, Ohio. All of this aside, it has always been the mystery, the awe, and wonder that has captivated my imagination during Advent.
Angels may be my favorite part of Advent. The Christmas story always includes angels that mysteriously appear in the night, gently conveying God's eternal message: "Fear not."
I'd like to experience an angel someday... a real, true angel. I wonder... What will it be like?
- A warm Light in a deep darkness?
- A heralding of exquisite music that draws me into a pure and ecstatic haze of Bliss?
- A palpable Presence of Love that floods my being with awe?
"Fear Not. I am with you."
Advent is also known as the season of expectant waiting, which is wholly (holy) ironic, because I am no good at waiting. My cane now grants me priority boarding, and I am all too happy to prance forth ahead of the crowd to take my seat in steerage.
If I dare to probe deeper, the expectant waiting of Advent offers an annual opportunity to remember the hope of a transformative love, born into a world that relegates unwed, teenage mothers, like Mary, to the sidelines of every society.
In my view, newborn babies are inherently holy beings. This changes, of course, when they refuse to sleep, and when they cry with no apparent rationale.
A fresh, healthy, pink, full-term newborn who is ready to nurse and be comforted in a parent's arms is a pediatrician's dream come true, and one of the most sacred moments to witness, no matter the venue.
This Advent I am savoring the season of hope. I am turning my attention toward palpable love, and glorious music. I am seeking out opportunities to see light brought into the darkness, or a deep darkness brought out into the light. I am expecting hope to surprise and delight me. I'm on the lookout for angels.
"Fear not. I am with you always."
- us-sues-arizona-shipping-containers-mexico-border
- Dr. Rick Bedlack discusses clinical trial on ALS reversal
- St Paul's Memorial Church Christmas Eve services
Monday, September 26, 2022
Dancing trees
I look forward to my daily morning contemplation. A cup of coffee in a favorite mug. DeltaMae at my feet. And a sweet bit of time to embody stillness, silence, solitude, and an open heart I call space.
Each morning's experience is unique. Many mornings bring gifts of insight or peace, or wholeness. Other mornings offer an unadorned groundedness to begin the day. Today I was reminded that every reality manifests an opportunity.
Stillness is my current challenge to harmony in contemplation. The fasciculations of Mr. ALS impose themselves--insinuate themselves-- rather rudely into the experience of stillness.
I am faced squarely with the opportunity to welcome pesky muscle twitching into the morning's contemplation. Thank you Mr. ALS for the gauche interruption of bliss.
Alas, here is another stark reminder that the realities of our daily lives are meant to be lived too. Gauche or not.
I don't enjoy the constant fasciculations that herald the death of motor neurons. Maybe one day I will miss them, but not today, not now.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I am adapting to their gauche presence. Accepting them with poise remains a significant on-going challenge.
Alas, another stark reminder: seeing God in everything and everyone means seeing God in the gauche. Ultimately, it even means welcoming God in the gauche.
Gratefully, this morning I looked up to see the sun spotlighting the tree tops which had just begun to sway, in a breeze that was theirs alone-- a gift of their morning contemplation, and a welcome reminder that God exists to be enjoyed.
Monday, September 19, 2022
Sacred questions
Recently I took part in a Tim Lowry ALS panel for occupational therapy (OT) students. As panelists we answered many of the questions you might anticipate about how OT has improved our lives with ALS. I was happy to tell the students about pencil grips, rocker knives, and splints. The OT professor specialized in hand therapy and was eager to help with my current conundrum: buttering toast.
The question that most surprised me was directed to Tim Lowry who communicates via eye-gaze technologies.
Fr. Gregory Boyle, S.J., the founder of Homeboy Industries, and author of The Whole Language, puts it this way:
"We remember the sacred by our reverence...This is the esteem we extend to the reality revealed to us. Jesus didn't abandon his reality, he lived it. He ran away from nothing and sought some wise path through everything. He engaged in it all with acceptance. He had an eye out always for cherishing reality. A homie, Leo, wrote me: 'I'm going to trust God's constancy of love to hover over my crazy ass. I'm fervent in my efforts to cultivate holy desires.' This is how we find this other kind of stride and joyful engagement in our cherished reality. The holy rests in every single thing. Yes, it hovers, over our crazy asses."
Friday, September 2, 2022
ALSTLS
ALS is always a grim tale to tell, and to hear. Sorry.
What if we could tell a parallel ALS tale that was the opposite of grim? I have an idea. Read on.
ALS, Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, is generally defined as a progressive, neurodegenerative illness with no cure. Often, this straightforward definition is embellished with a clause or two:
- eventually leading to the inability to walk, talk, swallow, or breath.
- including complete paralysis with intact cognition.
- being 100% fatal with an average life expectancy of 2-5 years.
- Speech
- Salivation
- Swallowing
- Handwriting
- Using utensils
- Dressing and hygiene
- Turning in Bed
- Walking
- Climbing stairs
- Dyspnea (breathing hard with activity)
- Orthopnea (difficulty breathing while lying down)
- Respiratory insufficiency
- adaptability
- humor
- kindness
- compassion
- hopefulness
- resilience
- altruism
- passion for creating change
- fierceness and drive
- advocacy for self and others
- ingenuity
- vision and meaning
Thursday, August 25, 2022
The media
The Hummingbird Fund is gaining notice which makes me really happy. Our mission is clear, and dare I say boldly stated:
Ending ALS. Starting with all of us.
The Hummingbird Fund stands on three pillars: access, innovation, and advocacy. We are on a mission to end care gaps for Virginians living with ALS, accelerate innovation to improve quality of life, and advocate for legislative action and research to end ALS. Through agile grantmaking, we work to help ALS patients and their families live full lives. Join us to help end ALS in this decade.
Hummingbird offers me the opportunity to use the experience I have accumulated from decades of work with families facing the enormous challenge of caring for a child with significant medical complexity and disability. Moreover, I am lovingly joined by my family and hundreds of others whom I am calling the Hummingbird Champions.
When invitations from the press started to roll in, you might imagine I would be delighted to share my passion for the vision of the Fund.
My immediate thought was that this kind of carpe diem would be best delegated to my highly photogenic, uniquely poised, well-spoken family.
They declined, saying I was the man for the task.
So, I keep saying yes. And you know, with preparation and some practice it gets easier. I now see the media as a chance to share the ALS story, which has been side-lined for almost 100 years.
Recently, Will Selden, a podcaster at the Virginia Health and Hospital Association, began his interview, asking, "So tell us, how are you doing these days."
The question caught me off guard with its humanity. I thanked him for the question and its kindness, and then I answered as I almost always do, saying, "Oh, I'm fine." In this instance I elaborated with mention of the abundant love surrounding me.
I mean, no one wants to hear about me struggling to learn how to butter toast with my right hand, or the disappointment and fear associated with the gait-related side effects of edaravone, a medication I've been waiting to try for months, and one that required no less thank 20 hours of my time in the way of prior-auth's and payment schemes.
With the media I stay close to my talking points, allowing the daily realities to swirl like an imaginary cloud bubble above my head.
If you were stranded on a desert island, all alone, what one book (aside from the holy text of your choice), movie, and recording would you want to have along?
Ok, so here goes. I will mention that I decided to go for diversity:
Will Selden had one more question before signing off. He asked for a bit of advice I had received that was worth passing along. My answer came immediately to mind, but I decided to place it in the context of a brief story.
Wednesday, August 3, 2022
My daily 40
A local gastroenterologist taught me the proper way to swallow a pill.
Said gastroenterologist was also the mom of a teenager in my care.
Teenagers famously swallow their acne medicine without so much as a sip of water. Hence, the doxycycline sticks to their dry esophagus and creates an ulcer. Said teenager then ends up in the pediatrician's office with chest pain. Thus, I have discovered, teaching teenagers to swallow their pills with plenty of water is just practicing good, preventive medicine.
Here's what I learned from the gastroenterolgist-mom, and subsequently passed along to dozens of teenagers I treated for acne:
- begin with 8 ounces of water
- first take 2 swallows of water to moisten the esophagus
- then swallow each pill with the remaining water
If I followed my own advice, I'd be swallowing 320 ounces of water a day, That's 2.5 gallons of water a day. Peggy has suggested I try milk instead of water, to make the swallowing easier. Doing the caloric calculations for 2.5 gallons of whole milk, that would be an extra 5,760 calories a day.
In various mindfulness workshops, I've been instructed to eat one blueberry or one M&M at a time, savoring the individual experience of the moment. And perhaps it would aid my healing to contemplate the action of each pill, individually, in the moment, as it fights Mr. ALS, but 2 1/2 gallons of water a day seems impractical, and potentially dangerous.
And besides, I eat blueberries with gusto by the handful. Is it really a surprise that I'd take my pills by the handful too?
When swallowing pills, I am careful to drink lots of water. However, even well meaning techniques pose potential hazards.
Depending on the size, shape, and quantity of pills in each handful, I might cough a bit, causing water to shoot up my nose. This, by the way, feels exactly the same as getting water up your nose while jumping off a dock, into the lake, doing a cannonball to show off. Such a show off.
Included in the daily 40 are 4 anti-retroviral medications (ARVs) that are part of a NIH clinical trial. Why am I taking ARVs commonly used to treat HIV, you ask? Well, it turns out that I am among the ALS patients who have HERV-K floating around in their blood. And, HERV-K, like HIV, is a retrovirus. The NIH study aims to determine if ARVs can eliminate HERV-K from the blood. And what might be the role of HERV-K in ALS, you ask? Like most everything with Mr. ALS, the role of HERV-K remains illusive. Sorry.
This current NIH trial lasts 24 weeks. At the end of the study, the NIH will no longer provide ARVs, even if they seem to be helping clinically, because this is not a randomized clinical trial. The purpose of this trial is only to investigate the effect of ARVs on HERV-K in my blood.
Ok, just for kicks, let's imagine that I do experience a positive clinical effect, a reversal, from the ARVs, like those folks who had HIV. If I want to keep taking the ARVs, the monthly cost would exceed $12,000, and insurance will not cover ARVs when used off-label for ALS. A sad reality of our health care system.
To continue taking the ARVs after the NIH study ends, it appears I will need to contract HIV. Now, no one wishes HIV on anyone, but this seems the only logical way to obtain insurance coverage for medication that might successfully defeat Mr. ALS.
HIV to get ARVs to reverse ALS, why not.
Thursday, July 21, 2022
Milkweed
Thursday, July 7, 2022
Quick Check-in with JimBob
Monday, July 4, 2022
The Double Life of ALS
In a recent essay published in the New York Times, Mary Pipher reveals her double life.
Perhaps you remember Mary Pipher, PhD., as the best-selling author of Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls, and Women Rowing North. Or, maybe you remember her as a provocative guest on NPRs Fresh Air with Terry Gross.
Her latest work, A Life in Light: Meditations on Impermanence, is currently on my Kindle.
In her recent NYT piece, Pipher states boldly, "Of course, I am leading a double life. Underneath my ordinary good life, I am in despair for the world." She goes on, "Some days, the news is such that I need all of my inner strength to avoid exhaustion, anxiety, and depression... In times like these, we need world-class coping skills just to stay fully awake, enjoy our lives and be of service to others."
Pipher shares insights from three sources:
Her grandmother:
"...be the person you want to live with every day of your life." (Forgive yourself, be whole and grow throughout your life--jpo)
Thursday, June 23, 2022
My pillbox
Once a week, I fill my pillbox. The box keeps me on track, especially since I swallow a rainbow of pills and capsules three times a day. You might think it impossible to forget whether you have swallowed 13 or 14 pills. Trust me, when it becomes a day-to-day routine, it's easy to forget without a pillbox that stands empty. Crazy, right?
Before Mr. ALS arrived on the scene, I did not own a pillbox, and I did not fret about forgetting to take my vitamin D.
As for today's collection, you might enjoy knowing that I have a giant capsule filled with golden oil, and a tiny rectangular tablet the color of a robin's egg. Theracumin is a standout for two reasons. It is a uniquely thin capsule, easy to swallow, and it is a strikingly beautiful butterscotch-mustard-yellow.
A wide array of white capsules are distinguished only by size. The six giant sodium phenylbutyrates (which I take twice a day) must be taken 2 at a time, and even then, they often stick to the back of my throat, unless, of course, I remember to tip my head forward to widen the epiglottic valleculla.
Every pill and capsule I ingest has a clearly described scientific rationale. Some of them come with a prescription from my neurologist. Others I purchase on Amazon.
A major player in my arsenal is the tag team of Tudca and Sodium phenylbutyrate. This combination is also known as AMX0035, which is making its way through the regulatory approval process at the FDA. AMX0035 is only available through a randomized controlled trial, which means some of the people are receiving the actual medication and some are receiving a placebo.
AMX0035 has shown promising evidence in the treatment of ALS: it appears to slow the progression to respiratory failure by 10 months.
Until recently I have been using a small compounding pharmacy in New Jersey for my monthly supply of sodium phenylbutyrate, all 360 capsules. We purchase it off label, which also means it is not covered by insurance.
Much to my dismay, the sole manufacturer of sodium phenylbutyrate halted production in May. I talked to them, of course, and they offered no clear explanation, nor definite time frame for when production might resume.
I ask you: what's a person to do with Mr. ALS breathing down their back? Take the regular dose and accept a pause in a proven therapy? Take a half-dose to make it last longer and accept the possibility of it being sub-therapeutic? Try to find another pharmacy that compounds sodium phenylbutyrate and ships it out of state?
After consulting with three neurologists who are experts in the field of ALS, I decided on a half-dose.
In the meantime, if I were to sense a subtle, new symptom of ALS, should I worry the new symptom is the result of the decreased dose, or just the natural progression of ALS?
Another conundrum: as new therapeutic opportunities arise, what should be the calculus for the order of operation, because certain options preclude others.
The happy ending here is that we have found another compounding pharmacy and I am back to a full dose of sodium phenylbutyrate. The injustice and inequity of my privilege is on full display as I pay thousands of dollars each month for this opportunity.
Yesterday, I spent the entire day on zoom, in virtual meetings lobbying members of congress with a group from the ALS Association. As people living with ALS, we did our very best to elucidate the realities of our lives. The legislative aides listened carefully, mostly. They took notes and expressed dismay for our misfortune. We asked for their support regarding appropriations for the Act For ALS, and in general they assured us they would keep it under consideration.
ALS is unlike any other adult infirmity in its swift path to disability. The glacial speed of the federal government is not well suited to respond to this kind of urgency in a rare disease. Still we must persist.
I take hope in the power of the people. The ALS community is a feisty lot. We will find a way.
Wednesday, June 22, 2022
NIH Day #3
Vine-ripened strawberries are a wonder of nature, no?
- Blood samples may detect HERV-K leading to an anti-retroviral treatment trial
- 85th percentile for rate of decline in people living with ALS
- Excellent results from neuropsychological testing
- Excellent forced vital capacity
- Excellent swallow study and speech
- Electrophysiological results that support a diagnosis of ALS
- No further need for EMG or nerve conduction studies
- No further risk for Frontal-Temporal Dementia
- A connection to the NIH and to Dr. Kwan for future consultations.





















