Uncategorized

An Inspiring ELOCTATE Story

The famous Nigerian poet and novelist Ben Okri wrote,
“Stories can conquer fear, you know. They can make the heart bigger.” In this
week’s blog, a young mother shares her personal story about hemophilia, about
overcoming fear, handling her emotions and learning about a therapy that could work
for her family. She shares her story, to help others facing the same fears. We
hope to bring you more such stories throughout the year.

Thanks! Laurie

Indications ELOCTATE is an injectable medicine that is used to help
control and prevent bleeding in people with Hemophilia A (congenital Factor
VIII deficiency). Your healthcare provider may give you ELOCTATE when you have
surgery. Important Safety Information

Do not use ELOCTATE if you have had an allergic
reaction to it in the past.

My name is Sara, and my
8-year-old son Evan has severe hemophilia A.
The circumstances surrounding
Evan’s diagnosis are likely familiar to many other families in the community—a standard
heel prick that wouldn’t stop bleeding, eventually soaking his newborn clothes.
I remember the nurse quickly whisking Evan down to the nursery, and I watched
as three, four, then five nurses dropped what they were doing and frantically
tended to our baby over the course of the next hour. The doctor finally told me
he suspected Evan had a bleeding disorder and gave a very brief description of
hemophilia.
This was not the life I had
envisioned for my family.
Fast forward sixteen months
later—I had studied every pamphlet and book and memorized signs and symptoms of
every possible bleed like it was my job. I kept on top of appointments and
diligently brought Evan to the ER each time he knocked his head. And then it
happened, my greatest hemophilia fear: a spontaneous head bleed. Hearing things
like, “subdural hematoma, evaluate the need to drill, lucky to be alive,”—all
of it was so surreal. I felt helpless watching my innocent 16-month-old fight
for his life.
I somehow found it in myself
to channel that fear and anger into fuel for managing Evan’s hemophilia. I
forced myself to attend social events and conferences, and ended up making a
great handful of friends who have become a part of my hemophilia lifeline. At
doctor appointments, I began to ask questions without censoring myself in order
to get answers I could understand.
I also began researching
treatment options. By learning about ELOCTATE myself, I was able to work with
my doctor to find the answers to my lingering questions, evaluate the risks and
benefits, and make an informed, educated decision with our physician to see how
Evan would respond to it.
Evan has been taking ELOCTATE
for his severe hemophilia A since August 2014. He does typical 8-year-old
things like riding his bike, running, or playing sports with his cousins.
They’re boys so they want to tackle and hit. Now he knows he has to play
two-hand touch and with the Nerf ball. His cousins have grown up with him so
they’re used to it. They’re attitude is just, “Okay, cool. Let’s go play.”
Since starting on ELOCTATE,
he hasn’t had any spontaneous bleeds. And he’s becoming more receptive to being
involved in his own care.
I’ll always be a protective
mom, but it means so much knowing I can count on ELOCTATE to help care for
Evan’s hemophilia. I am not only grateful for the opportunity to share my
experiences as a caregiver of a child with severe hemophilia A, but also to
provide some wisdom, and, hopefully, some inspiration to a unique, capable, and
fantastic community of people.
You can see more about Evan
and me in our video here  on the
ELOCTATE website.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Talk to your healthcare
provider about whether ELOCTATE may be right for you. Please visit www.ELOCTATE.com to read the Indications and Important Safety Information , as well as
the full Prescribing Information .
ELO-US-0880
02/16
This blog was sponsored by Biogen, for educational
purposes.

The Education Advantage!

Our community is fortunate to have many different scholarships. In fact, LA Kelley Communications had the first on-line listing of scholarships for the bleeding disorder community! That’s how much I believe in a higher education. Take advantage of what the community is offered! Learn about Education Advantage below! 
Laurie 
Education Advantage – Scholarships for our Community brought to you by Baxalta 

Since 2010, Education Advantage has awarded more than 200 scholarships to US students with bleeding disorders. 
The scholarship program has grown! New for 2016, those with von Willebrand disease are invited to apply! The program continues to be open to hemophilia A, hemophilia B, and inhibitor patients. Education Advantage is open to US students, regardless of which brand of treatment used. 
Education Advantage offers three different scholarships to eligible applicants: 
• University Scholarship:  
       Up to $7,000 for students working toward their bachelor’s degree 
       Renewable for up to 3 additional years 
• Community College and Technical Scholarship:  
       $1,000 for students seeking an associate’s degree or a technical vocational certificate 
       Renewable for up to 1 additional year 
• GED Assistance:  
       One-time $150 reimbursement if you pass the GED test 
Get started on your application today at www.BaxaltaHematology.com/EA 
The application period for 2016 is open now until April 30. You can find more details about the scholarships, meet the previous year’s winners, and find out how quick and easy it is to apply at www.BaxaltaHematology.com/EA

This message is supported with funding from Baxalta
USBS/MG1/16-0041 

New for 2016: Pfizer’s Factor Savings Card Program Increases to $12,000

Good news if you struggle with copays and coinsurance!
In 2016, Pfizer made enhancements to the Hemophilia Factor Savings
Card Program to better align with the needs of their hemophilia patients. This
program has increased the maximum benefit for copay and coinsurance assistance
up to $12,000 for eligible patients on Pfizer Factor products.*
Eligibility
Requirements Include:

·      
No financial eligibility requirements
·       Available
to privately insured patients or uninsure
(     
       But please see website for full terms and conditions.
Program
Website:
·       www.HemophiliaVillage.com (resources
and support)
*Terms and conditions apply. This card will
be accepted only at participating pharmacies. This card is not health
insurance. No membership fees.
You will receive a total benefit of $12,000
per calendar year, or the amount of your co-pay over one year less a patient financial
responsibility of $10 per month, whichever is less.
If you have any questions about the use of this
Pfizer Factor Savings Card, please call 1-888-240-9040 or send questions to:
Pfizer Factor Savings Program, 6501 Weston Parkway, Suite 370, Cary, NC 27513.
For more information, please visit www.HemophiliaVillage.com.
The content of this post is
provided and sponsored by Pfizer.

Row for Hemophilia!

If you think “Row for Hemophilia” sounds like a nice little fundraising event taking place at a local fitness center, you may be surprised to learn that it is actually a 2,400 mile
unassisted row by a young man with hemophilia across the Pacific Ocean! 
Who would be adventurous and determined enough to take on such a formidable challenge? Two University of Georgia students, Jacob Pope and Chris Lee, who are on the rowing team and have a connection to hemophilia and to Hemophilia of Georgia are planning this ocean row. They currently are in the process of raising funds to compete in The Great Pacific Race in June 2016.

Donate here!

Hemophilia advocacy and treatment is a cause close to Jacob’s and Chris’s hearts. Jacob has hemophilia B. He is passionate about health and lives as active a lifestyle as he can within the bounds of his hemophilia. A management information systems student, he plans to do medical consultancy and nonprofit work. Last summer, Jacob interned at Emory’s Aflac Cancer and Blood Disorders Center with Dr. Shannon Meeks. He is a John Youtsey Memorial Scholarship recipient, attended Camp Wannaklot and has volunteered at Trot to Clot events.
Chris studies genetics at UGA and is fascinated by genetic disorders such as hemophilia. He is a premedical student in his third year. The two met on the rowing team and have been close friends ever since. Together, they hope to bring awareness and provide financial support to organizations such as Hemophilia of Georgia. They both share a drive to push their own limits and a desire to make a real difference in the community. The idea for Row for Hemophilia came about because they wanted to have an extraordinary adventure that could impact others as well as themselves.
Typical crossings take between 30-80 days for the 2,400 mile journey. The length of time varies due to wind, storms and currents. Jacob and Chris anticipate completing the journey in 45 days due to their rowing experience and technical training. Their goal is to complete 50-55 miles each day, split up in shifts, rowing both separately and together.
Their boat will be 27-29 feet long with two cabins. GPS and autopilot to help them stay on course. It will also contain emergency equipment, tools, a repair kit, a Wi-Fi hub and a satellite phone.
Jacob and Chris will need to consume 10,000 calories daily, most of it coming from dehydrated
backpacking style meals. Water will come from an onboard water-maker capable of desalinating up to 8 gallons per hour. 
It’s organized ocean rowing race so they’ll be trailed by a support yacht and have 24/7 access to an emergency medical consultancy line. Jacob has moderate hemophilia and after discussing his plans with his hematologist, has decided to follow a fairly aggressive infusion schedule. He will bring approximately 20 doses of factor with him.
Jacob and Chris hope to set some records, too! If successful, the pair will be the youngest team to complete the row across the Pacific Ocean, from California to Hawaii, and Jacob will be the first person with hemophilia to have completed an ocean row!
The boys hope to raise $150,000, and have already reached about $50,000. This will just about cover their expenses. More funds are needed which will be donated to HoG, to help fund research and for camp. Upon completion of the race, all functional equipment will be sold to the rowing community with the proceeds added to the amount donated to HoG. Fundraising is their top priority and Jacob and Chris want to guarantee to donors that their generosity will make an impact. 
Learn more about Row for Hemophilia and how you can donate funds to help Jacob and Chris achieve their incredible goal of rowing unassisted across the Pacific Ocean and bringing awareness to
hemophilia. Follow their progress on Facebook and Twitter and donate here!

X-Boys: The Family by the Sea

Our 9+ hour journey from Santo Domingo



Day 4. Saturday, January 30, 2016 Dominican Republic


Despierto temprano. I awake early this day, at
5:30 am, in the near dark, a guest at Haydée’s house. Hayée is president of FAHEM, the hemophilia organization of the Dominican Republic, and a good friend and colleague. We’ve worked together for 18 years now. We share a light breakfast, eggs only, and a quick hola to housekeepers Isabel and Anna. Our team assembles on Haydée’s front patio: Fendi Bisono (a young man with hemophilia who is our main contact for Save One Life in the DR), Mecho, Haydée’s sister and treasurer of FAHEM, Eduardo, her husband, a successful architect,  Dra. Joanne Taveras, the adult hematologist and also our friend (oh let’s face it; everyone here is friends with everyone! When they say Mi casa es su casa they are serious), Haydée of course, Zoraida, me and our driver José. We have a large van, very comfortable. And off we go! This
would be a 5-hour drive one way to visit one family, a factor X deficient
family. Factor X deficiency is quite rare, but Dra. Joanne tells us that in
this section of the country, out past Barahona, almost to the Haitian border,
there are several families with it.
Cooking pot at rest stop

We navigate the
crowded streets of Santo Domingo and finally open up to the highway and
countryside. The further away we drive from the capital, the more we see the pretty
mountains that define this island. The sky is bluest blue, a cobalt canopy over
tender, green carpeted hills.

Dra. Joanne
passes the time by sharing all sorts of things, in Spanish, and I miss most of
the conversation. Then she and her fellow committee members do word games from
a phone app. It gets to be a lively competition. We take a break along the
route, and a small rest stop. It’s a little store front, stand alone, with sad plastic
chairs in the dirt out front for patrons, with chickens running about, and soup
cooking out back in a black cauldron over an open fire. I’m looking for a
bathroom out back, and all they have is an outhouse. And by that I mean
corrugated metal sheets to form a wall, wired together around a hole. Just as I
am about to pry open the alleged door, Eduardo, laughing, points to the little
cottage right next door, also a restaurant with a proper bathroom. Of course
none of even the proper bathrooms have soap, paper or driers. It’s always bring
your own.
Laurie Kelley by Caribbean Sea
On we go. About
three hours in we stop again, this time at a seaside road stand on a hill. The
view is breathtaking. Behind us, volcanic mountains that jut up from the
ground, draped in vibrant green. In front, the crystal blue Caribbean Sea, with
frothing waves, with water so beautiful and pure, the waves seem to melt diplomatically
into one another gently, rolling and crashing into the hillside on which we’re
all perched. A yellow dog runs to greet me and frantically paws my white pants,
dotting them with her prints. She senses correctly I’m the dog-lover of the
group and follows me about. I promise myself to being a box of Milkbones on all
future trips, in addition to factor and all the other goodies.
Typical outhouse

Several roosters
are imprisoned in little upside down wire cages, advertising their availability
as dinner. They cluck in confusion. In two huge rusty kettles, lunch is
cooking, the smoke trapped inside by palm leaves acting as tops. The family
that owns the roadside vendorship smiles reluctantly at us, perhaps sensing we
aren’t hungry enough to buy lunch yet. A bay stretches out from our vantage
point. Beyond that bay lives the family we will see, still an hour ride away.

The roads are great
in the DR.  Our ride, in a clean
and new van, is smooth and comfortable. We make one final stop at Dr. Joanne’s
mother’s holiday home, a wonderful place, like a tropical oasis! A natural waterfall
rushes into a man-made pool, fringed on all sides by stunningly towering palm
trees and moist flowering plants. José, our driver, cuts a branch from the tree
next to the van, which has a tangle of roots cascading down from its massive
branches and a substance oozes out. Caucho,
he says. Rubber.
Laurie Kelley with Adrian and mother

We finally reach
our destination, the neat little home of the Acosta family, who turn out to
greet us. Haydée hugs the mother, Jhoann, like a sister. Everyone is
introduced. This is the first time FAHEM has been out to visit the family. The
family is impressed and honored. And they know why we are here: to enroll the
two sons with hemophilia in Save One Life.

See the DR 2016 Gallery and all photos here.

The house, which
sits right on the roadside, is in good shape. It’s a saltbox: four walls, wood,
with pressed wood inside for dividers. The dividers are home-made and wobbly.
One room is the bedroom, one the entry room, where a small, lone, scarred table
stands, and one room the kitchen, mostly empty. They don’t own much: one bed,
one table, a washing machine that seems oddly out of place, a stove. Two small,
rickety chairs, and two heavy chairs that Eduardo teasingly calls thrones.
The Acosta Family

The boys are not
shy. Zoraida sets to work right away to interview them for Save One Life. She
takes out the enrollment forms, and standing, asks the boys a series of
questions. Both boys are small, and look to be about 8 or 9 years old, but in
fact are teens: 15 and 14. Abraham is 14, and in the 5th grade only.
He misses a lot of school due to bleeds, a common outcome of hemophilia in
developing countries. He loves math, and fishes in his spare time (later we
would see why). His brother Adrian is the wise guy. Charming smile, glib, he’s
15 and wants to one day be a doctor, because of all he has been through. Here
doctors are like gods; they determine the quality of life these children may
have. Adrian also likes to fish in his spare time.

Haydé de Garcia, president of FAHEM,
with sister Mehco, treasurer
Laurie Kelley enjoying fresh coconut

The HTC, as we
just experienced first hand, is five hours away. It would cost the family $60
to go to get treatment. The father, Andris, only earns $100 a month. Do the
math. Despite the nice home appearance on the outside, there’s no toilet or
bathroom, only an outhouse. There’s no fridge; there is electricity, again jerry-rigged
from the street. There’s no tub or shower or any way to bath, except the sea. Food
is prepared using charcoal outside. It’s a rustic life. There’s no TV, no video
games, no cell phones. You can imagine then what a difference $24 a month will
make; it will actually be $48 a month, almost half the father’s salary, if both
boys get sponsored.

Jhoann cuts out the coconut meat
Zoraida interviews the boys 

After the interviews,
we wait in the front of the house, and Andris grabs a bunch of green-husk
coconuts. Using a sharp machete, he lops the top off of each coconut and hands
us one. We sip the cool and refreshing coconut juice inside. Haydée and sister
Mecho sit on the slope in front of the house; Zoraida and I stand. When we
finish, Andris takes the machete and whacks each coconut again until it cracks
open. Then we peel out the coconut meat and eat it. I shock Andris by asking for
the machete. He reluctantly hands it over, looking at the group to see if I am
crazy. I want to slice my own open. After a few whacks it splits in two and
everyone laughs.

Caribbean feast!
When our home
visit is done, we travel on to another seaside stop, this one at a cove. There’s
a perfect sea in front of us, the color of the most exquisite jeweled turquoise.
It stops you dead in your tracks to gasp at it. Abraham climbs a huge piece of
driftwood while I photograph his daring. We stroll along a boardwalk to the
cover, where there are nice shops. Apparently families rent the shops and prepare
meals to sell. This is what Andris’s wife Jhoann does. We are ushered by the
ever-charming Adrian to mismatched plastic chairs and a long table in front of
the quiet cove. Instantly a young cat and two wary dogs hover about. Hip-hop
music blares from a radio near us where teens are hanging out and swimming. We have
drinks, wine, a sugary fruit called anom that I take a sudden addiction to, and
best of all, parrotfish, grilled. It is simply the best fish I have ever had. I
ignore the gaping-mouthed-head and yellowed eyes and dive right for the sides,
despite the numerous bones. About 12 fish are brought out and we devour them.
And so does my kitten, which I deftly feed under the table after straining each
mouthful to remove the slender bones.
Abraham shows off

Adrian serves us
as magnificently as any waiter in a five-star restaurant and the food could not
be better. After our feast and siesta, we must hit the road. We hug, pledge to
get sponsors, and meander back out from the lush cove, to the naked beach and
sun, for photos and good byes.

The five hour
trip back seemed to fly, as we had much to share and discuss. What a difference
we will make in the lives of this family; what a difference in our lives they
make to us.
See the DR 2016 Gallery and all photos here.
FAHEM, volunteers with Acosta Family

HemaBlog Archives
Categories