World Haemophilia Day 2014

Hello there and happy World Haemophilia Day!

Whether you're a bleeder or a clotter you may be interested to see this video which I made last week of me having one of my regular clotting factor injections.  As a severe bleeder with type 3 von Willebrand I learned to self-infuse factor 8 aged 14 (26 years ago now) and it revolutionised my life.  I am lucky to find injecting relatively straightforward, most of the time.

I was intending to re-record this today, wearing red, for World Haemophilia Day but instead I'm taking my dad out for a birthday lunch as he was 75 yesterday, so you're gonna see my trial run which I figure is good enough.  Please bear with my efforts as it's the first video of myself I've ever attempted!

I wanted to record and post this to raise awareness of the thousands of women who live with bleeding disorders and also to reach the millions of undiagnosed to encourage anyone who thinks they might have a clotting problem to consult their doctor with a view to getting tested.  

Not everyone has to inject like I am doing, those who are severely affected do and you don't have to do it yourself.  I chose to so I can take my treatment and travel / work anywhere.  I am lucky enough to be able to do this and I appreciate that massively.  Others in less affluent parts of the world do not have access to the most basic treatment.  To find out more about that and how you can help please follow this link:

Save One Life

I hope you enjoy (?) my video or at least find it interesting, and if you're a fellow bleeder or carer feel free to feedback on my technique or sanitary arrangements!  

Funny Blood Jab

I've tried to upload the video but blogger won't let me so I now have my first ever video on YouTube.  Apologies the sound is a bit rubbish - I'm a novice!  Thanks for watching ;)

xx

In the words of Gloria Gaynor ...

I am Rosamund Mary
I was born on the Isle of Man
I was adopted when I was 12 weeks old
I have a rare form of Von Willebrand's disease
I have less than 3% Von Willebrand's factor
I have less than 1% factor 8
I have injections to replace the clotting factor and stop bleeding
I learned to do them myself when I was 14
I started my periods when I was 13
I would bleed for 3 weeks out of 4 and then start all over again
I have taken hormone pills ever since then to keep the bleeding under control
I have always had acne on my chest from the hormone pills
I used to have horrendous period pain every month
I once had to stop my car and knock on a strangers door for help because I was blacking out from period pain
I now take hormones continuously because it's safer for me not to bleed
I was given Hepatitis C from contaminated NHS blood products
I was probably exposed with every injection I had in the 70's and early 80's
I had on average 1 injection a week then to control bleeds
I was not told by my specialist about my infection with Hepatitis C
I found out by accident at another hospital
I had a 12 month and then a 6 month course of treatment for the Hepatitis C
I had a biopsy before the 2nd course of treatment
I lost six pints of blood and nearly died after a bleed in my liver
I discovered just before I got married the Hepatitis C was no longer detectable in my blood
I have been ill with chronic fatigue ever since those treatments
I now have on average 2 injections a week of clotting factor to control bleeds
I have been exposed to vCJD
I have been unable to work since 2008
I have been unable to have children because of my ill health

I am what I am
I am just right
I am all this
I am me

Funny Blood the book - how to get yours ...

If you would like a copy of my mum's shiny new book Funny Blood - which is about adopting me as a baby, then finding out I had a severe bleeding disorder and the fun that ensued bringing me up - it costs £10.50 plus £2.50 postage (within the UK) if required. Multiple copies will require multiple postage though we may well do you a deal If you ask.

Funny Blood cannot be had from all good retailers I'm afraid as mum has self published. Until of course we hit the best seller list, which may take a while as we've only had 500 copies printed!

You can either send your cheque for the total amount, made out to Juliet Batten, to me:
35 Shrubbery Street,
Kidderminster,
DY10 2QZ
UK
or mum:
28 Franche Road,
Wolverley,
Kidderminster,
DY11 5TP
UK
If you do this please include your name, address and the number of copies you require.

Or if you want to send us a BACS payment please send us an email to roshasfunnyblood@gmail.com with your name, address and the number of copies you'd like and I'll send you the bank account details.

We will then post, or personally deliver if you're local enough, your book.

I will be putting it on Amazon but because mum's funded this herself I'd encourage you to buy direct from us because that way she gets a wee bit more from each book to help pay for the cost of producing it. We might just up the price a touch on Amazon to compensate, not sure yet. I'm dead proud of her I am, cos it's the first book she's ever written and she's been working on it for 8 years :D






Once you've read it we'd really appreciate your feedback.

One last thing - it is about me so I understand if that puts you right off ;)

Meeting with Anne Milton, Health Minister, October 24th

I recently attended a meeting with Anne Milton, Health Minister, on Monday October 24th at the Department of Health in London.  My MP, Mark Garnier, managed to get me on the list of attendees.  I was keen to attend to tell her personally how I felt about her announcement in January of this year which I believed failed the majority of the bleeding disorder community who had been affected by contaminated NHS blood products.

This was our introduction to Ms Milton and her associates:

Thank you very much for seeing us all today.  We would much prefer not to take up your time, but following your review and announcement regarding contaminated blood products in January 2011 we felt compelled to request this meeting, to urge you to re-visit the decisions made.  Specifically the one to retain the separation of the Hepatitis C infected community into two groups - stage 1 and 2 – when there is so much evidence that HCV is far more than liver disease.  People within the Stage 1 group are ill, but not through liver damage. 

When Andrew Lansley (MP) introduced the review findings he said that he hoped they would remove anomalies in the existing support system and that they could bring us some comfort, consolation and maybe even closure.  We believe that none of these objectives were met.  Your decision was that continuous financial support was only required by 20% of our infected community, leaving the majority still suffering, struggling and still fighting for help.  Maintaining defined stages of illness for Hepatitis C has increased not removed anomalies.  We do not think the levels of support offered are adequate but today we are requesting the immediate ending of the two tier system.

We believe that this is a fundamentally flawed decision and that an infected person deserves and should receive help because they were infected by NHS treatment, not if they meet highly specific, difficult to prove, levels of illness.  We do not believe the conditional and means tested Fund which is being offered is a step forward, rather it is an echo of the system criticised by this government and is vastly inadequate given the needs of those within the stage 1 group. 

Some of us belong to the various contaminated blood campaign groups.  I would like to stress that we are here today as individuals speaking only on behalf of ourselves but working for the benefit of all those who have been marginalised by your actions.  We hope to illustrate this by our own personal testimonies and the information included in our pack.

I will put the evidence we gave her on here, in post to follow...

 

Your Blood Supplement - Part 2

This is the second part of the information I sent to the Independent for their Your Blood supplement.

It is being published tomorrow Friday 2 September - I'll put the link on here in due course.

Your Blood - Part 2

The next major challenge was, unsurprisingly, when my periods started.  This was a moment my mum had dreaded and it lived up to her expectations.  I bled for weeks each time with very little break in between periods.  I was treated often – by now the treatment was injections of clotting factor manufactured from many blood donations – and also spent a good deal of time as an in-patient having blood transfusions. My teenage years were interesting to say the least.

I was referred to an enthusiastic gynaecologist at the age of around 14 to see if my periods were so bad because of a gynae problem, but no, it was just my bleeding disorder.  He did however experiment with the hormone pill until we found a high enough dose to control the bleeding in some way that meant I didn’t have to go to hospital multiple times every period and could try and resume a normal teenage life.
 
My other issue during this time was that I had a number of spontaneous internal bleeds that required investigation and aggressive treatment and meant a good deal more time in hospital and off school.  These were bleeds that were not caused by anything specific and that I only knew about because of the extreme pain and swelling.  However I managed still to get both my GCSEs and my A levels and went off to university feeling really grown up.  

By this time I had taught myself how to self administer the injections.  This changed my life totally because we no longer needed to be within a safe distance of a hospital but I could take my treatment with me and go anywhere – I really felt like the world was my oyster!

To be continued ...

Your Blood Supplement

Recently I was asked to write about having von Willebrand's disorder for a supplement called Your Blood which is soon to come out with an issue of The Independent.  I was asked to write a paragraph but being me that was like trying to insert an elephant into a letter  box.

I am going to publish on my blog what I wrote, as it's a synopsis of my life with funny blood and I've not really put anything like that on here so far.  The supplement that is being published contains a mere snippet as they only had a tiny space to fill.  On here I'll break it down into sections. 

Your Blood - Part 1

When my mum and dad adopted me at the age of 6 weeks old in 1974, they thought they had been given a perfect little girl.  At the age of 6 months when mum was at the GPs and mentioned that I had a bruise, she expected the doctor to say, oh yes that’s quite normal.  She did not expect what actually happened next.

I was referred to the hospital to have blood tests done.  Mum sat on a stool at the hospital with me on her knee while they pricked my ear with a needle and watched it bleed.  After over an hour with me crying and mum worrying, they told her the fact it had not stopped bleeding was abnormal and that I would need more tests.

Mum was told by the Royal Manchester Children’s Hospital (RMCH) that her daughter had severe von Willebrand’s disease later that year.  The next few years were particularly tricky.  Learning to crawl, to walk and cutting then losing tiny teeth were all massive challenges.  Mum and dad decided early on not to wrap me in cotton wool – though they were tempted, and some padding fashioned from socks with their toes cut off, filled with foam rubber, were popped over my knees when I began to crawl.

As a severe bleeder every time I bumped, tripped over or cut myself we had the pleasure of a trip to the hospital over 20 miles away.  This could be many times a week.  When I bled it wasn’t necessarily heavy but it oozed for hours without stopping until I had treatment.  Treatment in the 70s consisted of cryo-precipitate, which had to be defrosted once we arrived at the hospital, and then loaded up into a 50ml syringe or into bags that were infused via one of my veins.  

I remember a lot of my childhood as being spent in hospital and the nurses became part of our family and I felt at home there.  I bruised very easily and had frequent nosebleeds and gum bleeds, all of which meant a trip to RMCH.  I also had problems with internal bleeding into my joints – these were very painful and more disruptive for me as I had to rest until they got better.  I also had to be pushed to school in a big blue stripy buggy which as a girl of 6 or 7 was not much fun.  Generally though I lived my life as normally as possible given the amount of time I was on my way to, or from, or at hospital.

To be continued...

Betrayal and Lies -- Please Share

This video has been put together by a fellow contaminated blood campaigner and friend of mine, Richard. It contains contributions from a number of friends, many of whom are tragically no longer with us.

It is disturbing but essential viewing if you are interested in the unnecessary infection of thousands of bleeders like me, through our NHS treatment.

Please take the time to watch and share it where possible.

Thank you x

Letter to the Health Minister regarding the Contaminated Blood Announcement

I am writing following your announcement to the House of Commons on Monday 10 January regarding HIV and Hepatitis C contaminated blood and blood products.

I appreciated your apology on behalf of this administration and those who have failed to address this - the greatest tragedy of modern health care.  I trusted that when you said you were trying to remove anomalies in the current support arrangements, you meant it.  I admired your hope that whilst your announcement could not remove the pain and distress that we as individuals and families have suffered over the years, that the measures you announced could bring us some comfort, some consolation, and maybe even some closure.

I am really sorry to say that upon listening to your announcement I was bitterly disappointed.  Not only did it not offer comfort, consolation or closure but it was rather like someone poking me unmercifully in a particularly painful bruise.  We bleeders have had a number of let-downs over the years but I have never been more angered and disillusioned in my life.

The results of the review and the ensuing support you have proposed will not offer comprehensive support to all those affected by HIV and Hepatitis C contaminated blood, nor will it double payments to £50,000 for the 4,670 haemophiliacs affected by the HIV and HCV contaminated blood products as some media reports have suggested.

Some points based on my own experience may help you to understand why I make the statement above.  I have a severe bleeding disorder, von Willebrand’s disease.  I received blood products from the NHS from the age of six months old.  I have been infected with Hepatitis C and exposed to vCJD.  In terms of what your announcement will provide me:

• ·         Free prescriptions – which my two cousins who have diabetes received the instant they were diagnosed, why do haemophiliacs and other bleeders not already receive this concession?

• ·         Free counselling – I recently underwent counselling from my GPs.  I waited 4.5 months for 6 sessions, at the end of which the counsellor expressed his awe at my inspirational manner in which I coped with everything that had happened to me and said he thought I didn’t need any more sessions.  We had barely stroked the surface.  I would really appreciate the support a good counsellor could give but would benefit from in-depth long term support.  You are providing 6000 hours counselling over the next three years.  This amounts to just under one and a half hours per person with infections caused by blood products or their widows / widowers.  I do not consider this to be a comprehensive solution.  Why impose such a limit?

• ·         Access to a discretionary fund – I have had two courses of treatment for Hepatitis C.  Both of these left me extremely ill and unable to work for the duration of the treatment and many months afterwards.  Since the second course of treatment I have been left with chronic fatigue which has taken away my ability to work and has been directly linked to the Hepatitis C.  I have ‘cleared’ the virus so I guess in the opinion of your medical panel my quality of life is greatly improved.  However I have many symptoms that suggest my liver is not healthy and my quality of life is greatly compromised and my future uncertain.  The idea that for any financial need I have to come begging to get even a modicum of help is not good enough.  Will this fund replace my lost earnings?  Will it compensate for not being able to get a mortgage or being unable to get sickness insurances?  Will it pay for someone to clean and help with my daily needs so that my mother doesn’t have to anymore?  Will it compensate for the fact that my husband and I are unable to have children due to my ill health or that some nights I cannot cook his tea or hold a conversation by the time he comes home?  I would like to know the remit for this discretionary funding as soon as possible.

What your scheme does offer is an increase in the second stage Skipton Fund payment of £25,000 and annual ex gratia payments of £12,800 per annum.  This is by no means the levels of payment that we were hoping for, but might have been seen as well intended, if they applied to all the 4,672 of us affected by contaminated blood products.  However, the numbers currently meeting that stage two Skipton Fund criteria are approximately 15% of our community. That leaves roughly 3,800 haemophiliacs or those with von Willebrand’s disorder with the provisions outlined above, or in the case of widows and families of the deceased – nothing.

I would like to also point out a number of other inadequacies that your new scheme will put in place.

• ·         You are removing the current anomaly which has meant widows of anyone dying from Hepatitis C before August 2003 would get nothing.  This is long overdue.  In its place you are providing a window of two months – until the end of March – for them to apply for the stage 1 and 2 Skipton Fund payments.  Why is it necessary to have a cut off date at all?  Surely if someone is eligible it doesn’t matter when they apply?  Or is this an attempt to limit the number of applications and therefore the cost?  You are asking the widows affected to access their partner / husband’s medical notes, wade through them to see if he is eligible (a traumatic task for any of them) and find a consultant willing to sign off on their stage two application.  By the end of March 2011 this will be nigh on impossible.

• ·         You are providing support to those who meet stage 2 of the Skipton Fund criteria.  This immediately divides the infected community to those infected and suffering, and those dying.  Not offering annual payments until someone has developed liver cirrhosis or cancer seems to me a very fiscal decision as they by nature then have a severely limited life expectancy.  I presume those annual payments cease once the person dies?

• ·         When HIV support was announced, whilst it was a flawed scheme, it at least paid out to all those infected, a decision you have chosen not to take for HCV infected.  I know when those payments were made, the prognosis for HIV infectees was bleak.  Nowadays the treatments are such that many with HIV are relatively healthy and do have some quality of life.  However, whilst your report acknowledges that people infected by chronic Hepatitis C – that’s 4670 of the bleeding community – suffer a demonstrable loss in quality of life, at least as great as those with HIV, your lack of on-going and non-discretionary support does not back this up.

• ·         The proportion of our affected community that will receive the ex gratia payments is roughly 15%.  I do not consider this to be comprehensive or adequate and how you could think this would offer comfort to many, is beyond me.

• ·         I believe the Stage 2 criteria that once met entitles those affected to an extra £25,000 lump sum and annual support of £12,800 to be flawed.  I am aware of some cases where haemophiliacs have been certified by their doctors as meeting these criteria when they do not.  I do not begrudge my friends to whom this applies, I am pleased for them as they no doubt deserve the help.  But whilst this appears to indicate the support of the doctor for the patient, it does make this method of classifying need unsound.

• ·         For some reason the scheme only applies to England and you had not spoken to the equivalent ministers in the devolved administrations prior to your announcement to make them aware of your plans.  You say it is up to them when and if they administer the same arrangements.  I am urging Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland to reject this minimalistic approach and put in place something that is actually comprehensive and does meet the needs of their citizens who are NHS infected patients.

It appears to me that whilst saying the right things, your actions have entirely failed to back this up and in fact only succeeded in doing the minimum for the minority.  You asserted a number of times that this was not due to cost but how else can one view these measures?

For those of us with Hepatitis C it seems from your announcement, not to matter that we were infected until we meet this deficient criteria at a potentially life threatening stage of our illness.  Even then what we will be offered will be too little to be of much use and at a time which is too late.  That’s approximately 4000 of us who have had our lives shattered by contaminated blood products – unable to work, unable to get mortgages, unable to obtain life and travel insurances and unable to have children.  I’m not talking about a few exceptions within that 4000, I’m talking about most of us.  It seems from your discussions with patients and patient groups that you have not taken this on board but have instead taken the word of medical specialists who are not living with the condition and all the difficulties that entails.

I acknowledge that those from the 4000 who met the Skipton Fund Stage 1 criteria did get the first payment of £20,000 but that was over ten years ago now and we have had no help since.

I would also like to take issue with your insistence that the Republic of Ireland paid out compensation because they accepted liability and the case here in the UK is different.  Were you not aware of the High Court case last year in which the honourable Mr Justice Holman ruled that the Irish paid out on compassionate grounds, with no acceptance of liability?  Would you please explain how you think the High Court ruling does not apply?

Given that your aforementioned statement is flawed I would like to revisit the argument used by Anne Milton for not adopting the Irish levels of ex gratia payment which were based on your estimate that the cost would be £3.5 billion.  From the estimation I received from Anne Milton:

• ·         You used the figure of around 4700 infected with HIV and / or Hepatitis C from Lord Archer’s report.

• ·         You made an assumption that the Republic of Ireland (RoI) infected individuals received an average of £750,000.  This was based on informal discussions with RoI colleagues which indicated that payments ranged between £500,000 and £1 million.

• ·         Your estimation therefore was a calculation based on the estimated number of infectees 4,700 multiplied by the payout in RoI of £750,000, which equated to £3.525 billion – and you stated that this wouldn’t include anything for carers or dependents.

My interpretation of this estimate was that this would mean you awarding £750,000 to the total number of those infected by contaminated blood products.  It would also include payments of £750,000 to widows or families of those within the 4,700 who have died.  That would indeed be a one off £3.525 billion cost but would, in contrast to your statement, have included carers and dependents. Our community had suggested that this could have been spread over three or more years to spread the cost in these difficult times.

We campaigners do persist however, in our assertion that cost savings were a causal factor back in the 70s and 80s for this hideous tragedy occurring.  And therefore that citing this argument now after 20 years of government inaction is adding insult to injury.

You may ask what I would consider a meaningful level of support - I would suggest a reasonable and comprehensive support arrangement to be:

• ·         A lump sum ex gratia payment made on moral grounds to all patients infected by contaminated blood products or their widows / families (4,672 people) of £300,000 – this payment could be made over three years and my total estimation of cost would be £1.4 billion.  Or £467,200,000 per annum for three years.

• ·         An annual ex gratia index linked payment made on moral grounds to all patients infected by contaminated blood products, to be paid whilst they are still alive (est. 2600 people) I suggest the median between the average annual wage and the minimum annual wage - £18,500 per person infected. My estimation of cost per annum would be £48.1 million but this figure would decrease in line with deaths.

• ·         The total cost for my scheme would be £515.3 million per annum for the first three years and then £48.1 million decreasing from then on.  You would subtract from this the current cost of the HIV annual payments, which this scheme would replace.

• ·         In order for the costs to amount to your estimated £3.5 billion this scheme would need to run for 43 years.

This illustration is my own and does not represent the views of anyone else.  Whilst I wouldn’t claim that this would bring comfort or consolation to any of those infected because it is only money and I’m sure it would be far from closure for some, I do think that it could at least be considered compassionate and constructive support that acknowledges and respects the suffering of those harmed in this tragic way.

In composing this letter I have had to find energy where there is little, coherence where there is often confusion, fight when I desire peace and action when my body cries out to rest.  The delay in sending reflects the mental and emotional effort writing this letter has demanded and I do hope you reflect on that when composing, or not, your reply.

Health permitting I would be willing to discuss any of this further with you and your department as we continue to work towards a just and appropriate solution.



Sent today to Andrew Lansley Health Minister, David Cameron Prime Minister, Nick Clegg Deputy Prime Minister, Mark Garnier my MP, Ann Milton MP, Diane Abbott MP, Geoffrey Robinson MP, Philip Lee MP, Chris James CEO The Haemophilia Society.  Not holding my breath for replies...

Contaminated Blood House of Commons Debate - 14.10.10

Around 100 of us crowded into the public gallery in the House of Commons last Thursday to hear a historic back bench debate on contaminated blood products.  Haemophiliacs and von Willebrands, infected and affected, wives and husbands, families of those too sick to be there and widows and children of those who have died.

We had come to London with a sense of anticipation, a sense of hope that after over 20 years of campaigning and the loss of 1974 lives, we were finally being met by a government who stood for fairness.  A government who had indicated from the PM down that they wanted to help us to bring closure to the victims, of what has been described as the "worst treatment disaster in the history of the NHS" by Lord Robert Winston.

It started with a worrying turn of events.  The government tried to amend the original debate motion.  Not to change a couple of words within it, but to re-write it, bar the first three words "That this house...".  The government wanted to take out the acknowledgement of past failures and limited response so far to the tragedy, wanted to take out the proposal to implement Lord Archer's inquiry recommendations; even wanted to remove the apology to the survivors, their families and the bereaved.  In its place their amendment merely recognised the [inadequate] recompense that had been provided by previous administrations, estimated the cost of implementing the Archer recommendations as being £3 billion, pledged to review some of those recommendations and deeply regretted that many people were infected by contaminated blood products.

We were shocked and dismayed by this attempt to wreck our motion.  However the speaker ruled that as this was a back bench debate the original motion should not be amended by front benchers and that our debate would go on as it was.

Hooray we thought.  There followed three hours of passionate, personal and moving 5 minute statements from 24 MPs, all of whom had put in to speak at the debate.  The support and understanding we had from MPs of all parties was amazing. There was no arguing over the basic facts about what happened, no dispute that here we had a terrible medical scandal that resulted in a human catastrophe and great need. There was no argument about the fact that a proper financial settlement and hopefully an apology was required urgently. I say urgently because, as was pointed out by one MP people continue to die at the rate of one per week. We don't have time to hang around whilst politicians play games.

MPs paid tribute to members of our community who have died and to those who are still waiting and dying.  Whilst tears were shed in the gallery I was horrified to see two front bench MPs talking and laughing as Owen Smith spoke of Leigh Sugar, a haemophiliac from Wales who died from Hepatitis C earlier this year.  Where was the respect there?

It was debated as to why we had referred to the scheme in the Republic of Ireland, as this was felt to be too generous for the government to commit to.  It was said more than once during the debate that this was put into the motion because it was what the campaigners had wanted.  To an extent this is true, but that is because it was the bottom line for compensation that was cited by Lord Archer in his private inquiry report - a report largely ignored by government and one that the judicial review earlier this year compelled them to revisit.

What the victims of this tragedy want is a settlement that is fair and adequate - a settlement that treats this group with decency and respect and ensures that what remains of our ruined lives is spent at least financially secure.  Ireland's settlement which was implemented in 1996, and is still being honoured despite their financial difficulties, is one that is considered appropriate for the nature of the difficulties victims face.

As one of our campaigners recently said:

'You can't give us back our health, but you can give us back our dignity'.

The greatest despair though, came with the government's apparent inability to work out simple maths.  The question was how did the government arrive at the figure of £3 billion that was in their amendment, and that was their estimated cost of putting in place a similar compensation scheme.  The calculations were apparently accurate but were not able to be produced during the debate.  We are still waiting to see them.  We believe the costs to be far lower. 

We are well aware as a community that the timing on this is far from ideal however it is important to note that the reason we were infected by these devastating viruses was not least because the government diverted money away from developing self-sufficiency within the UK blood products production.  Money was not made available then, over thirty years ago and on many occasions since then when finances were there, administration after administration has ducked responsibility.  We haven't just turned up wanting a hand out.  For years successive governments have ignored the issue. It's not about party politics, it's about doing the right thing and it's about time that the victims of this disaster are given what they deserve - justice.

This was all acknowledged at the debate and the need to act now, in the name of justice and moral responsibility, was stressed time and again. 

However the vote was lost.  Why was this?  Because the government had produced a three line whip.  This compelled over 200 MPs who had not necessarily even attended the debate to come and vote against it when the bell rang.  It also meant that my own MP spoke passionately for us, but voted against us.

We appreciate that times are tight and that a cost in excess of £3 billion at this time of comprehensive spending reviews and cuts may be seen as irresponsible.  However what about getting your sums right before trying to write us off?

We are not a greedy, compensation grabbing bunch of individuals - we are genuinely sick, dying, unable to contribute to society the way we could and to look after our families the way we want, because we received contaminated blood products from the NHS.  All we want is to not have to fight for justice anymore and to have our losses recognised.  It wasn't right then, it isn't right now and we won't be going anywhere.

What we came away with is the promise to review the situation by Christmas.  The present government have the opportunity to put this right and they need to know that we will never give up.

Fairness, Mr Cameron?  Mr Clegg?  Let's see some at last.

Bleed Hazards

As a type 3 von Willebrand, life is like a box of chocolates. One which has been sabotaged by an ex lover and is filled with poisoned soft centres and pebble filled truffles which will break your teeth.

Being a severe bleeder, activities which are undertaken without a second thought by a non bleeder, to me can be high risk activities. A high risk, that is, of causing bleeding or bruising.

This is my top 10 11 list of everyday, bleed inducing things:

Ferocious Fodder:

1.  Fruit - apple skin is one of the most efficient ways of getting a gum bleed. The safest way for me to eat an apple is to cut bite size chunks off with a very sharp knife... Don't worry, I wear Teflon gloves. Bananas can have the same effect if they are a little unripe, which is, of course how I like them.

2.  Puff pastry - the equivalent of eating razor blades, very dangerous to gums, tongue and inside cheeks. Ruins the enjoyment of a good pastry.

3.  Muffins - surprisingly risky - had 18 hours of gum action following a particularly chippy bit of chocolate in a muffin the other day.

4.  Sandwiches - a crusty roll has obvious dangers. Crusty bread equally so. However I have bled from an encounter with the softest fluffiest baps filled with only egg mayonnaise, perhaps it was the cucumber...

Personal Mean Hygiene:

5.  Tooth brushing - most common cause for me of gum and tongue bleeding. I've been told many times by many dentists that brushing more frequently will reduce the overall bleeding tendency - I can tell you I've put this thoroughly to the test and it's nonsense: more brushing = more bleeding - fact. I am still to try the Sonicare toothbrushes that have been recommended by a fellow bleeder - I will let you know how that goes...

6.  Flossing - not something I relish as this is akin to running wire thro mozzarella.

7.  Hair removal - waxing, plucking, epilating, even hair removal creams can cause anyone to bleed or bruise - with a type 3 von Willebrand this can be to very dramatic effect. Legs which turn purple upon waxing may be a little alarming for your beautician. My current preferred method of defuzzment - epilation - even post clotting factor treatment can leave my legs covered in petechiae. My first ever attempt to shave my legs as a naive teenager resulted in a blood soaked kitchen (I know, weird choice) and a cover story about dropping a knife and it impaling my shin - not sure that was ever actually believed!

Household Sore Chores:

8.  Painting - an activity I used to enjoy is now more risky due to a spot of ceiling painting which caused a shoulder bleed. This has weakened my shoulder and it has a tendency to bleed if used to decorate. No really, it does.

9.  Correspondance - writing letters, whilst now an old fashioned activity is also a hazardous one for me. Paper cuts from the writing paper is common and if you've had letters from me they may well have contained at least one of my bloody prints - I'm never gonna get away with murder, I'm far too forensically generous. Licking the envelope slices my tongue into strips. Stamps used to stick to my lips and rip them into bleeding. Owwee. Thank goodness for self adhesiving ones I say.

Medical Maladies:

10.  Plaster removal - luckily I'm not allergic to latex having such an aggressive plaster habit. However removing a plaster is in itself a dangerous job and whilst ripping it off in one smooth, swift motion is ideal from a pain point of view, it is a perfect way to cause post plaster bruising. Nice.

11.  Medic alert - it is ironic that a medic alert bracelet, worn continuously in case of emergency because it just might save my life, causes bruises and burns. If I lean on my hand and the bracelet is in the wrong place it bruises me, this most commonly occurs when I'm injecting clotting factor into that arm. When stirring a hot pan of food the bracelet heats up so quickly I don't notice until it's branding me with "Von Willebrands Disease (Type 3)". I suppose that's one way to avoid having to wear it in future...

I Am In Pain - so there!

I have had some good news today.

Well, not exactly good news but I'm pleased nonetheless.

I was referred for an M.R.I. on my ankle last time I saw my haemophilia specialist.  This may sound extreme but other than a cursory play with my foot whenever I saw him, and sometimes not even that, I had begun to feel that my ankle was not getting the attention it deserved.

As a bleeder with a tendancy for joint bleeds, I felt that a wiggle of the joint and an "Oh that doesn't feel too bad - you've got a pretty good range of movement in that joint" wasn't quite good enough.  

I am lucky enough to only have one really problematic joint but my scrawny little ankle clicks, grinds and hurts in such a way it would make a torturer proud.  It has kept me awake on numerous occasions, such that if I'd had a hacksaw under my pillow I'd have been inclined to hack off my own foot - seriously, I would've, had it not been for the likelihood of a monster haemorrhage of course.  It often 'disappears'.  Surely, you query, that's the effect I was after?  Nope.  When my ankle 'disappears' as I describe it, it becomes in an instant so weak it can no longer support me, it suddenly hurts like someone has shot a bullet right through it, and I fall over - if I don't catch myself first.  Oh, and I usually shriek.  And I'm not prone to that.

Yup, doc, it's not too bad.

According to the new GIGTB leaflet produced by the Haemophilia society, the content of which I believe has been taken from the national service spec for haemophilia care (please do correct me if I've got that wrong), as a severe bleeder:

"You should also be offered an assessment
by a specialist orthopaedic surgeon or
rheumatologist at least once a year to
monitor joint and muscle problems and
identify the need for surgical intervention."

This is not a service I have ever had whilst under any comprehensive care centre.  And I'm 36 you know.  

Maybe it's just an ideal rather than a reality - I note the use of the word "should".  Maybe I just didn't complain enough about the pain I was in.  I believe that most bleeders (yes, men and women) have very high pain thresholds, otherwise we'd be in pieces all the time and you'd never hear the end of it.  I also am not the kind of person who complains - at least I don't think I am.  I will generally only bring something up if it is a real problem but if I'm then told - oh no, this seems fine, I have a tendency to put up and shut up.  Perhaps I should've pushed for further investigation earlier but to be fair I trusted the doctor -haha, hahahahaa, god you think I'd have learned by now - and was unaware what care should have been available to me.  We've never had a physio attached to our Comprehensive Care Centre and I've never seen the national service specification or the NICE guidelines.

Anyhow, during my last visit my haemophilia specialist said, as he held my right ankle in his hand, 

"Have you had an M.R.I. done on it recently?"

One jaw bleed later, I said, 

"...um, I've never had one".

And so I was referred.

To Selly Oak I went for a half hour session in a tubular machine that was either having the time of its life or heading for a severe mechanical breakdown.  I quite enjoyed it.  It was kind of musical, in a tone deaf tuneless kind of way.  My favourite part was when the operator popped some headphones over my ears and said - "That's for the music".  They remained silent until she said through them, 30 minutes later, 

"All done."

Two weeks later I've just phoned the hospital to see if they've got the results, and yes, they're in....

*Lights dimmed*

*Drum roll*

*Gratuitous lengthy relentless seemingly unending dramatic paaaaaaauuuuuse*

"Congratulations Mrs Cooper, you have won severe arthropathy of the right side of your ankle joint!!"

Have to admit my nurse didn't quite put it like that, but the good news was no tendon damage and the left side of my ankle didn't look too bad.  

The fact that the right side is so damaged makes me feel better - is that weird??  It basically means that all this pain and discomfort and weakness and crunching is not all in my head.  Why I would think it was, god knows, but hey it ain't, so that's good.  It explains things for me and means that finally summat can be done to make it better - or at least perhaps a tad less impactive on my life. 

I await the next step, with one good and one validated weak ankle ...

For ME

Happy International ME/CFS and Fibromyalgia Awareness Day everyone!!

Today, 12 May, is a day for raising awareness of ME / CFS and Fibromyalgia internationally. (Ok - so it's clearly not the 12th any more but that is when I started writing this piece.)

In honour of this I would like to make the subject of my post today me. Or rather ME.


This blog was created to chronicle my bleeding condition - von Willebrand's disorder. This is a rare disorder which means my blood doesn't clot very well. It is a little like haemophilia and has caused me to have an interesting a blood soaked life, since diagnosis at 6 months old.

I'm now 36 and whilst I am a happy little bleeder generally - who finds handling a long term chronic disorder, within my capabilities - the last few years have been a bit tougher. (If you would like to find out more about the von Willies please do peruse my previous posts - preferably with a cup of tea and slice of summat to keep your energy up.)

Something I have blogged less about is my experience of having CFS or ME.

Why is that?

I know my von Willies well. I was born with it. It is who I am. I am a bleeder. I am able to live in that knowledge and with the challenges that presents in a fairly confident, capable and good humoured way.

The von Willebrand's is treated with clotting factors. Which are made from blood products. From these blood products I contracted Hepatitis C way back when they were shooting clotting factor into my little girl's veins.

The Hepatitis C stuck with me, infecting my blood and messing with my liver, until I had the second of two lots of treatment, which managed to eradicate the virus from my blood.

Good news right?

But wait...

I really struggled with the treatment - Interferon and then Pegalated Interferon and Ribavirin.
And I mean really struggled.
It wiped me out.
Beat me up.
Wrang me out.
Shook me up.
Drained me out.
Chewed me up.
And spat me out.
It felt like being in a washing machine for 12 months.

Ever since the second lot of treatment in 2003 I have had recurring CFS or ME.

I still felt I was on the treatment six months later, 12 months later, 2 years later and still now 7 years later. Unable to work. Unable to live the way I used to. Existing. Waiting.

Don't get me wrong I have had periods of being well - being able to work, to live a full life, to fit everything in I wanted to and more....

However the reality now is not so good. My natural outlook is a sunny one. I see my CFS as a grey cloud that contains me and is not always easy to shine through.

The tricky thing is that to the untrained eye I look well. You look at me and don't see the cloud. Or the fog or the mist that clogs up my mind and body.

I used to find it hard to acknowledge the CFS. My mum once gave me a leaflet on ME and said - this sounds much like what you've got. Oh no, said I, that's not me - I'm just getting over the Hep C treatment. I'll be fine in a bit.

Even now if people ask me how I am - I'm fine! Or if not fine - I'm a bit tired.

A bit tired!! Understatement city :)

It is difficult to write how hard things can be. Equally it is difficult to talk about how hard things can be.

That is a problem.

How can I expect people who do not have, have never had ME or CFS to understand what it is like if I don't let it out.

You may be looking at the picture above and saying to yourself - she looks right enough. That is understandable.

If you see me looking well - which I do when I'm in public, most of the time;
or see me getting to the supermarket - which I do some of the time;
or if you have a conversation with me and I'm upbeat - which I try damn hard to be all of the time;
you cannot be expected to understand the reality.

I have tried to be a bit more explicit, but when I mention how exhausted I am - you might say, oh yes I'm tired too.
When I say it's hard to get things done - you might think, oh but you're lucky you don't work, you have plenty of time.
When I explain how hard it is to sleep - you might suggest, perhaps if you did more in the day you'd be more tired and sleep better?
When I say how much my body aches - you might sympathise, maybe if you got out more you would be fitter and be less stiff?

Often I don't have the energy to respond.

To argue that my exhaustion is so deep it is like a coat of lead that I wear 24 hours a day - that prevents me getting out of bed, that means I hurt to wash my hair and hang out my washing because my arms have to be held up, that means I pant after going up the stairs and need a rest after washing, then after dressing, then after eating my breakfast...

To explain that it is hard to get things done because my brain doesn't work properly any more. You know how you feel when you're hung over? Like your head is full of wool and your body is poisoned? That is my normal state. I forget things that used to be second nature. I struggle to make a cup of tea if you're talking to me, to hold a conversation without losing my thread, to write a blog without wanting to smash the computer because I keep getting words wrong, to run a bath without putting the wrong tap on and flooding the house, to put toothpaste on the brush and not Veet. I can't expect you to understand that some days I struggle to fit in getting up and dressed and doing some tidying and making the tea. Let alone cleaning and ironing and paying the bills and having people drop in to see me. The washing machine beep sends me demented. Running out of cat food is a constant worry because it means having to go out to get some.

To elaborate that I can't sleep because I'm so tired it hurts. That my joints ache and my muscles twitch and I can't be still for longer than a couple of minutes without twisting and turning and writhing trying to find a comfortable spot. That I feel things crawling on me - on my arm, then on my foot, then on my back, then my leg, then my face. There's nothing there, it's just a symptom of the CFS, Crawling Effing Sods. That if I do get to sleep I often wake in the small hours and then it starts all over again - the pain and the aching and the crawling and then the mind chimes in telling me that I need to sleep, I need to sleep, I need to sleeeeeeeeeep!!

To tell you that the aches and pains are such that I can't sit still for more than a few minutes without stretching and flexing my legs, arms, fingers. Next time you have the flu and you feel so sore and drained you can't move out of bed or off the sofa - that it how it feels on a bad day with CFS. It feels like my bones are rotting and my muscles are aching and twitching in an endeavour to get out of this body.


Is it better for me to acknowledge the CFS? Does it help to let it out? Or does that just remind me how much fun it isn't??

I know fighting the condition doesn't work - that the energy used constantly battling to overcome the lack of energy and limitations of your body aggravates the condition exponentially.

So do I need to accept ME in order to get better? Embrace my little grey cloud and let it hug me back. Take care of myself rather than push myself to the limit? Listen to my body rather than shout at it? Allow my body to recuperate rather than expect it to continue at an unsustainable pace? Give my mind space to rest and restore rather than shower it with anxiety and pressure and stress?

Love and cherish not berate and frustrate.

Worth a try, right?

Spot the Clot (or lack of it)

Stepped out of the shower this morning and was drying myself when I had a familiar and slightly disturbing experience...

Blood spatter.

Not on the walls or the floor or, heaven forbid, the ceiling. On my towel. Which was fresh out of the linen cupboard.

Ok - so I don't have a linen cupboard, it was just off the pile of clean towels dumped on our spare bed, but that ain't the point, right.

Blood spatter.

I repeat for effect. And because I found two spatters.

One little grouping initially. Then another slightly redder affair which stopped me in my drying tracks.

Hmmmm, I thought, as I stood slightly damp, examining the evidence.

Hmmmm, I thought, as I put aside the towel and rotated in front of the bathroom mirror.

No facial bleeding - no spots picked or nose bleeds or toothbrush injuries.
No chest bleeding.
No tummy bleeding.
No arm bleeding - from over zealous loofahing.
No foreleg bleeding - from epilating my calves yesterday.
No neck bleeding.
No back bleeding.
No hindleg bleeding ... wait just a minute ... there he is the little bleeder ...

Back of my left thigh - just above the knee - it's just a spot - no it's a blob - no it's a dribble.

I mop it up with a piece of loo roll. Press another piece on it hard to try and stop it.

It works! For once :)

I must confess. It was my fault. I Veeted that thigh today. Must've left it one a few seconds longer than I shoulda. Ooopsy daisy.

Just keeping an eye on my jeans now - these little ones have a habit of re-appearing when they're least wanted ....

Night Mare

This was the evening after the morning before.

Another weeny gummy bleed. Where this one came from I'm not sure - think it started around mid afternoon - aaaah mebbe it was that piece of Soreen I had with my cuppa?? It is very sticky and probly sucked a bit of my gum off. Nice. Anyway, it was still going as I headed off to bed.

You shot up? says Ade.
No, says I.
You won't sleep, say he.
Oh but I will, say I.
I got my night nurse you see and with that I could sleep through a boobquake.

Where was I?? Oh yes, the clotting factor conundrum...

I was talking to a fellow bleeder at the hospital Tuesday lunchtime and we both admitted that where possible - we put off having an injection until it is absolutely desperately necessary. Now it's not like either of us have a problem injecting - we don't. Though I know bleeders who hate it with a passion and I really wouldn't want to be in their sensible shoes.

Injecting is:

• quicker than it's ever been (with these drugs companies reducing what used to be a squishy bag of plasma down to a couple of glass bottles)
  
• pretty effective (though not always so, being a Type III von Willie, that would be far too simple)
• almost painless (if I do it in my left elbow and through the scar tissue - not if I have to use my right elbow vein, but even that ain't too bad; hands - now they would kill me but I've yet to have to resort to that entry point)

So why put it off??

It's funny - when I have to do prophylactic treatment, i.e. twice daily injections to cover a period or a procedure of some sort, I set my alarm at 9am and 9pm and do my jabs no problem. Ok - so mebbe there is a little cursing and harrumphing but I do em - night after morning after night after morning.

So why is it different when I need to treat on demand??

I'm not sure.

It seems much more of an effort. Much more of a chore. A hassle. It bugs me frankly that I need to have my treatment. I mean why for God's sake?? Why do I have this damn disorder that means I need to stick a needle in myself to stop my gum from oooooooooozing like an insidious leaking leech.

Is it because it reminds me of my imperfection? But why would that be, as this process fixes me?

Do I hate injecting that much that I avoid it at all costs? Nope, once I get on with it, it's easy and generally restores me to a non bleedy state.

What then?

Am I just a lazy arse? Partly I think. My friend and I both agreed that when it comes to it we often just simply cannot be bothered.

Is it the cost?? Is it that I feel it needs to be really bad to warrant injecting? I have access to this treatment that not everyone with funny blood has. Sometimes yes, I think I postpone longer and longer. I wait - wait for the bleed to continue past 5-10 minutes normal bleeding time, past 1-2 hours slightly annoying bleeding time, onwards through 3-4 hours really annoying bleeding time, we reach 8 hours and I realise that I'm still oozing. Then do I inject??

With my gums - I sometimes wait til 12 hours before I jab, 24 hours. Why do this?

Any longer than 10 minutes is abnormal, should I not just inject once that has been breached?? Why wait so damn long...

You know, sometimes I think if I just ignore it, it will stop. If I don't think about the bleeding it'll just clot up and a few hours later I'll go - "Ooo, a blood free gob! How lovely." Very occasionally I find that happens, and a bleed I was previously aware of has miraculously gummed up of its own accord. Another reason to put off the prick.

Of course, should I be bleeding at a more profuse rate - period pace for example - I will get on with it. I don't sit around gushing. (Except over a really luscious piece of cake - and even then I'd stop to shoot up if I were bleeding over it.)

Mebbe it's just I judge the oozers as not bad enough to treat initially. They are just something I should accept and not treat unless they hit 12 hours? 24 hours? It's a valuable treatment - should it be saved for more extreme circumstances. Praps I'm not truly suffering unless I'm swallowing blood for a significant number of hours?

But why should I accept any excess bleeding even if it is an infinite dribble?

Just get on with it - shoot up and shut up.