Lucy Rowett, who currently lives in Austria with her husband but grew up in the UK and developed ME at a similar age, describes the care Ms Boothby-O’Neill received from the health professionals as “tragic but standard practice. Her story is one of many”.
Ms Rowett includes herself in that category. As her health began to deteriorate, she was met with greater and greater resistance from her GP. By the time she was 15, she was in a wheelchair, one that her family had to buy themselves. One GP she saw “kept trying to make me stand up. He seemed frustrated with me[…] A psychiatrist I saw asked if I just thought about getting better and going outside[…] GPs would do blood tests, and when the test came back clear they’d shrug and say there was nothing more they could do”. This reaction meant “my mental health was in the gutter, and so was my mother’s”.
At the time, Ms Rowett and her family were involved with the church which gave them emotional support, and, she says, the teachers were also supportive, allowing Ms Rowlett, an A-grade student, to attend part-time, although she was forced to miss sitting her GCSEs.
Yet medically, “We felt completely isolated and alone”, she says. “There wasn’t the medical or mental health support that we
desperately needed”. Eventually, like Ms Boothby-O’Neill, aged 16, Ms Rowlett found herself unable to sit up or chew, weighing just five stone, her mental health deteriorating even further. “I can remember being taken to A&E and thinking that I’m going to die. I couldn’t see a way out at this point. I wanted to give up and end my life.”
According to Dr Charles Shepherd, of the ME Association, cases like this aren’t uncommon. “Around 25 per cent of people with ME/CFS are severely or very severely affected. This means they are housebound or bedbound. Some are so severely affected that they require tube feeding. The new NICE guideline on ME/CFS makes it clear that people with
very severe ME/CFS may have difficulty with eating, swallowing and digesting food. They are therefore at risk from life-threatening malnutrition and require specialist care both at home and in the hospital to prevent this from occurring”.
In 2006, Ms Rowett was admitted to the UK’s only inpatient unit at Queen’s Hospital in East London, led by Professor Leslie J Findley, paid for by the local primary care trust. Here she was put on a structured programme which involved rest, relaxation techniques and physical recovery.
“One week I’d start by trying to sit slightly up for 10 minutes, the next week I’d sit up a bit more and for a bit longer. We did the same with walking to the end of the bed”. That helped gradually build back her ability to sit up, chew and walk.
“It made the world of difference to be believed and feel like you were being treated by people who knew what they were doing.”
The inpatient unit that looked after Ms Rowett has long closed and currently there is nowhere for people like her or Ms Boothby-O’Neill to go. “There are no longer any hospital-based referral services with dedicated inpatient beds for ME/CFS which provide the type of specialist care that is consistent with NICE guideline recommendations,” confirms Dr Shepherd. And it’s having disastrous consequences. “In some cases completely inappropriate treatment is being given because a feeding problem has been misdiagnosed as a psychogenic eating disorder.”