The other day Rachael, my son's wife, came by to visit. We tried to have a conversation - she talked and I nodded. Occasionally, I even tried to say a few words, which my caregiver interpreted. It was very one-sided. Afterwards, Rachael said, "I really like your e-mails. It seems like the old you talking." I thought, "Well, I'm the same inside. I haven't really changed at all, but in person no one can tell." I was diagnosed with limb-onset ALS in October 1996. Lately, my speech is just about gone and, a few months ago, I got an Eyegaze system from LC Technologies. Frankly, I don't know if I would have the will to go on without it. Now, it's the window to my mind and I use it to communicate with my family and friends just about every day. The Eyegaze system has keys displayed on the screen, which I can "press" by looking at them. A small infrared camera measures where my eye is looking. The words I spell out this way appear on the screen or are spoken out loud. E-MAILING THROUGH THE DAY I have two married children, four grandchildren and my wife's parents, all on e-mail. I even e-mail my wife at work. Only my sister in Florida lacks a computer and I type her hard copy letters once a week and mail them off. When I can manage it, my routine is to go on the computer about 11 a.m. and read my e-mail. I reply to some and generally compose a chatty note for the immediate family. It might be about how I feel, about my plans for the day, a show I enjoyed on TV, etc. The kind of thing I would say on the phone, if I could. (We have speaker phones throughout the house and I hear their questions.) It's also the time to address more serious concerns - such as how I feel about my recent tracheotomy and being on the ventilator. After that, I may e-mail someone about a specific thing: To my wife, Lynn, "Don't forget to call Dr. - about my dizziness"; or to my son, John, "Relax, these are your good times. One day you'll look back and realize it." To my wife's 92-year-old father, "Dad, you can't expect the stock market to go up every day." I also have friends and family around the world as well as PALS (people with ALS) and family of former PALS (from the book I compiled last year, Journeys With ALS), whom I keep in regular contact with. SPEAKING AND WRITING I prefer Eyegaze over other communication systems I've tried. Lip-reading only works if the subject is familiar. The other person has to know about what you're trying to say. If I want to talk about something new, I need the Eyegaze. So, we'll go to the computer and have a conversation. The keyboard has a "speak" key, and I simply type out what I need to say. This is particularly helpful if a friend comes by. Often they will start by saying, "What's new?" or, "How do you feel?" It's the only way to have a meaningful discussion, which I have always liked. About a year and a half ago, when my speech started going, I tried a system that relied on an infrared switch aimed at some muscle movement. At first, we aimed it at my eyelid and I would wink. My facial muscles quickly fatigued, however, and we couldn't keep it adjusted. Then I switched to a sideways knee action and this worked for a while. Still, it was frustratingly slow - I could only manage a few sentences at a sitting, even with word prediction. And my hip became sore from the repeated motion. In the afternoon, about 2:30 or 3 p.m., I come back to the computer and write. I like to write. Always have, going back to my days as a professor of marine biology at Old Dominion University in Norfolk. There I wrote scientific papers. Later, when I became a numismatist, I wrote coin books. So, when the infrared switch no longer worked for me, I tried dictating to my caregivers. They understood me as well as anyone. However, my diction was so poor that I was forced to limit my vocabulary and to stick to simple sentences. It just wasn't me writing. (And that didn't last anyway. With time, my speech kept getting worse.) I knew abut the Eyegaze from other PALS. I knew that the eye muscles, for some reason, are almost unaffected by this illness and this was the system you come down to, if you can afford it. It's pretty expensive - more than $15,000, and probably not covered by most insurance policies. However, to me it's not a luxury. It's the window to my mind.
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Eddie Burroughs and Jan Blaustone |
My Uncle Eddie wrote this article to encourage others with limiting physical circumstances to explore the possibilities of the Internet and e-mail correspondence.
An inspiration to strangers and friends alike, Eddie never felt cheated by his diagnosis of ALS. On the contrary, he felt happy about his 69 years and regretted that many of the thousands of youngsters served by MDA wouldn't have so many years to experience life.
Eddie died suddenly on April 19 from complications of pneumonia, one week after completing this piece. He was content in knowing it would be published by MDA - his final mission. His friend Dick Mauer accepted Eddie's request to spread his ashes over his beloved Lake Tahoe. As much as we'll miss him, Uncle Eddie's spirit remains bright via his writing, and it's with great pride that we share his message of encouragement with you.
Jan Blaustone & Family
by Eddie Burroughs
While celebrating my 69th birthday in May 1999, I told everyone present I was giving myself a birthday gift of an August trip to Texas to renew some long lost friendships. Unfortunately, my health changed those plans.
I was diagnosed with ALS the following month. I had first noticed its effects the previous September when my speech began to slur while volunteering on the Nashville broadcast of the MDA Telethon. I had volunteered on the phone banks for several years but, that year, my voice grew tired rather quickly. (I first got involved with MDA because my nephew Michael's wife, Jan Blaustone, has muscular dystrophy and is a volunteer MDA leader in Nashville.)
Although my other voluntary muscles showed no signs of deterioration, my voice slurred so badly that, by early summer, I wasn't able to articulate.
HOW TO COMMUNICATE?
I felt devastated about losing my ability to communicate. Because of my bleak prognosis, I wanted even more to track down my buddies from long ago, but wondered how on earth I'd be able to accomplish such a task with no voice.
That was when the MDA Nashville office came to my rescue. Just a month after my diagnosis of bulbar-onset ALS, I walked into Michael and Jan's kitchen. On the table was a computer, with the message, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, EDDIE, FROM MDA, on the monitor.
If it had been a pot of gold, I couldn't have been happier. As it turned out, Jan had placed my name on the MDA loaner closet waiting list and she'd purchased the necessary hardware and software to enable me to get online.
After a week of sitting in front of the computer learning its many aspects of operation and discovering its various search engines, I knew I could still have my reunions and I was anxious to begin.
First, I made a list of seven great friends from over 20 years ago whom I wanted to contact. The following two weeks I did nothing but enter their proper names and variations of their names with several search engines like HotBot and Yahoo and Internet Service Provider (ISP) directories like AOL and ATT. They provided me with several related Web sites and e-mail addresses.
From there, I e-mailed the names that corresponded with the states I thought my buddies were living in. For example, there were 67 "Bill Fords" on one particular ISP but only eight in Texas, so I sent those a message asking if they remembered me. When a name didn't appear on the Internet, I used the U.S. Post Office Web site to look up a physical address and wrote them via regular mail.
A week later, I had responses from all seven of my friends, and all of them had computers.
CATCHING UP WITH OLD FRIENDS
I hadn't seen Phil Sanders, my high school tennis teammate, since 1964. Now I found out he was a judge in Austin, our hometown. Like the others, Phil was surprised and saddened to hear of my diagnosis and mentioned he'd lost another good friend to the disease recently.
Ray Pesson, my best friend in the Navy, was my next reunion. We served aboard the same ship during the Korean War, visiting such places as the Virgin Islands, Greenland and Casablanca. The last time I saw Ray was in 1965.
With my fraternity brother at the University of Texas, Glenn Garrett, I "talked" about the good times we shared, like the time we went to dinner with his parents and I convinced my date that the rhinestones Glenn's mother was wearing were diamonds. "She fell for it and even asked Mom if she could look at them," Glenn reminded me. I still enjoy practical jokes.
Glenn sent me an e-mail address for another fraternity buddy, Fred Bunsen. Fred e-mailed scanned photos from our days together.
I also found Larry Graham, a friend I'd made while working as a counselor and tennis instructor at a private summer camp during college. I located Larry by looking up the camp address in the online Yellow Pages. After graduating from the U.S. Naval Academy and five years of service, Larry had run the camp with his wife for 15 years, so it was no wonder they knew his whereabouts.
My other good friend from camp was Larry Shewmaker. Years later Larry and I competed in state tennis tournaments together. Larry reminded me about one of them with this e-mail:
"Remember the Victoria Open? After the tournament in McAllen, Texas, we crossed the border and purchased some Oso Negro gin. You split sets in Victoria in the semifinals. It was very hot and you motioned for me to get you some water in a tennis ball can. I put a lot of ice with water and some gin in it. You played loose but brilliant tennis the third set and won. You never knew why you felt so bad the next day. We wrote it off to heat exhaustion."
After leaving Texas, I lived in Lake Tahoe, Nev., for 14 years working in hotel/casino management. It was there I met my very best friend, Dick Mauer, a bartender at the time. We did a lot of deer hunting together, played golf and tennis, and threw some memorable dinner parties. The last time I saw Dick was in 1982 when I left the lake for New York. But through e-mail, Dick and I "talk" like it was just yesterday.
I now have 17 e-mail addresses of great friends from the past, which make my days much brighter. Every new day brings an e-mail from at least one of them. It makes me feel good to know they're concerned and haven't forgotten about me or our great times together.
Researching a variety of approaches might be the best way to find treatments or a cure for ALS, a top government scientist recently told a Senate subcommittee.
Gerald D. Fischbach also said there's reason for optimism in the fight against Lou Gehrig's disease, in his May 18 testimony before the Senate Appropriations Subcommittee on Labor, Health and Human Services, Education and Related Agencies, which held a hearing about ALS research.
Fischbach, a former MDA research grantee, is director of the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), a branch of the National Institutes of Health. He received MDA funding for studies of the interactions between muscles and nerves from 1992 to 1994 when he was at Harvard University.
The NIH, the government's medical research arm, will spend $20 million of its $2.7 billion budget this year on seeking a cure for ALS. NIH funding for ALS research has steadily been increasing over the years.
In his testimony, Fischbach explained the progressive effects of ALS and the basic biology of the disease. He also outlined the mysteries scientists are trying to solve: why motor neurons die in ALS, why the disease selectively affects motor neurons and spares other cells, what triggers the disease and how to stop its progression.
DEVELOPING NEW WEAPONS
Fischbach told the senators that "a combination of approaches may well be the best strategy" in the hunt for a cure.
That means continuing to pursue several types of promising therapies: drugs or drug cocktails, interventions like stem cell transplants or gene therapies, and developing better means for delivering therapeutic agents such as drugs, cells and genes.
"The best strategy to find a cure for ALS is to support a broad research program, including research focused on ALS, on common themes in neurodegeneration, and on fundamental neuroscience with an emphasis on the best quality science," he said.
MDA allocates some $3.5 million a year to ALS research and supports scientists working in all the areas Fischbach cited.
Pharmaceutical companies are heavily invested in robotic technologies called "high throughput screening" that accelerate the development of new drugs, Fischbach said.
But, he said, "private companies are less likely to focus on relatively uncommon disorders such as ALS. NINDS is trying to find the best ways to put this technology in the hands of researchers who are focusing on ALS and other neurological disorders."
ENHANCING ALS RESEARCH
NINDS has taken steps to boost research on ALS, including grant solicitations, workshops and informal discussions with the research community. For example, in March, NINDS set aside $3 million to fund novel approaches to understanding and treating ALS, spinal muscular atrophy and other disorders whose fundamental feature is a loss of motor neurons.
Fischbach said that "several of the more broad NIH efforts to provide access to emerging technologies will be important to ALS research," helping to speed and sharpen scientific efforts. He ended his comments on a hopeful note.
"Most researchers, energized by progress in fundamental neuroscience, about neurodegeneration in general and on ALS in particular, feel a cautious optimism that stopping ALS and other neurological disorders is a realistic goal.
"We share that belief and will continue our efforts to speed the day when we can better treat, cure and ultimately prevent ALS."
To read more about Fischbach's testimony or NINDS, visit www.ninds.nih.gov.
It's time to chat! MDAchat, the latest addition to MDA's Web site, was officially launched this month. MDAchat offers those affected by ALS and other neuromuscular diseases, their families and others an opportunity to "speak" to each other online.
Check the MDAchat Calendar at www.mda.org/chat/calendar.html to find the chat session of most interest to you. Upcoming sessions will focus on ALS and related subjects. Other topics include research, physical therapy, ventilation, adult concerns, career and workplace issues, travel and recreation, day-to-day living and more.
All chat sessions are scheduled to allow participants to use their online time most effectively. Transcripts of chat sessions will normally be available online within seven days after sessions are completed. MDA is still seeking people to form chat leadership teams to assist ongoing groups or cover specific topics. Leadership applications are available on the Web site.
E-mail questions or suggestions to mdachat@mdausa.org.
Ed Fry
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Dear Sir:
My name is Ed Fry. I served for some years as national chairperson of MDA's ALS Division. I continue to serve MDA as a national vice president. And I still lend a hand (as co-host) on the New York broadcast of the MDA Telethon.
In 1986, my mother was diagnosed with ALS. It was a difficult diagnosis to make. She went to a number of reputable hospitals and research centers. But when the final diagnosis came, we were sent home with very little information. She lived in a small town in southwest Iowa, and I was living in New York, working in television.
We contacted the ALS Association, which sent material that was of some help. But it was very technical and hard to understand and didn't seem to address where my mother was at the time.
Some time later, I was asked to participate in the New York MDA Telethon because of a part I was playing on TV. I agreed, knowing that MDA was a good organization and worthy of my time. It was at the Telethon, however, that I found out just how good an organization it was and how much they could do for me and for my mother. I didn't know walking in that MDA helped people with ALS.
That was the beginning of a long relationship with MDA. They helped us through many difficult places, not only with printed material but with hands-on help from program service coordinators. This was help we understood and needed.
While my mother never got to see the short film that MDA made about her (or the prize it won at the New York Film Festival!), it remains as a testament to her willingness to share herself at her most vulnerable in order that others might know about ALS and donate towards its cure.
That was almost 14 years ago. Things have changed dramatically since then. MDA sponsors 20 ALS research centers across the country, offering a wide array of services at no cost. While I know of other organizations that raise money for ALS research, I know of no other that provides the depth of medical care, research and education that MDA provides. They're great people to have in your corner. I encourage you to make the most of the relationship.
ALS is a tough disease, no doubt about it. In a manner, everybody in your family gets it. But that can also be a blessing. It brought my mother and me closer. I have seen this happen again and again, families drawing on communal resources to solve problems as they arise. If there is a silver lining, I believe this to be it.
When Virginia was ill, we didn't have e-mail or the Internet. Out in the cornfields of Iowa, I wish we had. Just know that many, many people are working on unlocking the secrets of ALS, people you may not have met, but they are there, busy and working hard. Many more continue to involve themselves in fund raising and education, enabling the researchers to do their jobs. We all have work to do to make sure as many people as possible know about ALS and contribute to its cure.
Sincerely,
Ed Fry
The Association welcomes gifts for ALS research honoring significant occasions of achievement. These gifts may be made in tribute to special people or to mark such events as anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, graduations or retirements.
THE ALS NEWSLETTER
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