Over the years, my family has been blighted with stomach problems.
In the interest of helping others, over the next few
weeks, I will share with you our journey back to health.
This is Lilly’s story:
My eldest daughter, Lilly, started having severe stomach pains
and blood in her stools at the age of 10. After a lengthy period of diagnosis
and several prescriptions for laxatives to cure her ‘constipation’, she had an
endoscopy at Great Ormond Street Hospital (GOSH). I received an emergency
telephone call one evening after dinner to say that Lilly needed to start
taking steroids immediately. She was diagnosed with auto-immune atrophic
gastritis.
I remember sitting in front of my doctor the next day in
tears as he told me there was no other option if I didn’t want my daughter to face
the possibility of having a colostomy bag, live failure, cancer… you name it…
in later life.
“What about diet?” I asked. “Could she be reacting to
certain foods?”
“It’s possible, but she still needs the drugs.”
Lilly started the steroids and over a very short period
of time gained two stone in weight. Her beautiful face was disfigured and she
became withdrawn and unhappy.
There followed an extremely difficult time during which Lilly
was put on a drug called azathioprine and once this kicked in she was allowed
to come off the steroids. It took a year for her to lose weight and even longer
to regain her confidence.
I took matters into my own hands, over the next few
months, we tried gluten free, diary free, preservative free and every other
diet I could find. Some things helped for a while but, by now, her symptoms
were being masked by the azathioprine so it was difficult to know what worked
and what didn’t.
Several trips to GOSH and many more tests later, Lilly remained
on the azathioprine. Six years later, I found a sympathetic consultant who
agreed to try and wean Lilly, who was by now a young woman, off the drug. It
took another year for that to happen.
She was well for a while but two years later, some of her
symptoms returned and we found ourselves back in casualty.
“Do you think she might be constipated?” a nurse asked, as
Lilly rolled around in agony.
Here we go again, I thought,
The medical profession shrugged their shoulders and
prescribed paracetamol, which was as much use for her condition as it is for
childbirth.
Lilly was referred back to the hospital and the round of
tests began all over again.
“No, steroids mum,” Lilly insisted, “I’d rather die.”
“No steroids, not this time,” I promised.
Then on a bleak January morning, as I sat opposite yet
another consultant with my daughter ready, as always, to fight her corner, he
said the word that would change the lives of not only Lilly, but the whole
family; Fodmap.
“Fod what?” we asked in unison.
“Fodmap (Fermentable, Oligo-,
Di-, Mono-saccharides and Polyols).
It’s a very specific diet and it has helped a lot of people like Lilly with
persistent stomach problems. Rather than prescribe any more drugs, I’d like her
to try it.’
And that’s exactly what we did…
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