It can be a lot to manage two children with cystic fibrosis who have other health issues. I made it work by making my children responsible for their own treatments and not sweating the small stuff when we can't be perfect.
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Because my daughter's bowel perforated when she was a newborn, she needed to have surgery to temporarily reroute her stool so that it was collected through her abdomen into an ostomy bag. Those grueling days of ostomy care -- sometimes as often as every hour day and night -- were some of the darkest days of our cystic fibrosis journey.
There have never been as many new CF drugs in development as there are today. In the second plenary at NACFC, Dr. George Retsch-Bogart outlined the progress we've made, the road ahead and the changes needed to make it all possible. Read on for my key takeaways.
I struggled when I learned that in addition to cystic fibrosis, my daughter also had adrenal insufficiency. I felt anger, sadness, and anxiety. But thankfully, with the support of my husband, family, friends, and care team, we learned how to manage her condition and deal with emergencies.
I'm a big proponent of participating in clinical research, but COVID-19 made me think twice about participating in a clinical trial that required six hospital visits. However, a screening visit reassured me that the researchers were taking all the necessary precautions.
Although I didn't have cystic fibrosis-related diabetes, I avoided dealing with my blood sugars. Now that I do, I feel stronger physically and emotionally.
I have seen tremendous health gains since starting Trikafta. But control of my cystic fibrosis-related diabetes has been elusive.
Anything that slows down progress in research and the cure for this cystic fibrosis is my sworn enemy. Learn why the Improving Access to Clinical Trials Act (IACT) matters for our progress in the fight against CF and what you can do about it.
Cystic fibrosis is unpredictable and I've found that some of the complications aren't as progressive as the disease.
I didn't know whether to cry on my surgeon's shoulder or punch him. In the end, I did neither. I looked back at him, dug deep, and said over and over again, “No. I won't sign.”