Why a “Miracle” in Ohio isn’t the End of this Story

By Laura King Edwards

The tireless team at CureBatten is in the national news again, this time for funding the launch of a clinical trial at Nationwide Children’s Hospital in Columbus, Ohio.

My heart is full of hope for Charlotte and Gwenyth Gray, daughters of Hollywood film producer Gordon Gray and his wife, Kristen. I wish I could put into words how much I want this treatment to save their beautiful little girls, Charlotte and Gwenyth. I wish I could explain how much I want the work made possible by CureBatten to spark progress for other devastating neurological diseases, including the many forms of Batten disease that still do not have a treatment. continue reading →


Counting Batten Disease in Years

By Laura Edwards

When I was a kid, Christmas and birthdays and the first day of summer felt different from other days.

But July 24 is just a day. It’s different for me only because it counts the years; it marks the passage of time.

It’s been nine years since the first time July 24 – the day of my sister’s infantile Batten disease diagnosis –  mattered to me. A lot has happened since then; I remember how scared I was in the beginning, when I thought we had a chance to save Taylor’s life. Now I have to live with the knowledge that I’ll lose my sister regardless of what I do. continue reading →


Blind Training with a Pinch Runner

By Laura Edwards

Running isn’t much different from riding a bike without training wheels. Once you know how to put one foot in front of the other, you’ve basically got it. My mom says I look funny when I run. She may be right – the uneven wear on the soles of all of my running shoes betrays my weird gait – but it works. I still have blue ribbons I won for the 50-yard dash in elementary school, and for 20 years, no one could outrun me on a soccer field.

But running blind is a whole different story. In less than three months, I’ll run Charlotte’s Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to honor my sister and support the fight against Batten disease. I started training with my sighted guide, Andrew Swistak, on June 5. Since then, I’ve fallen once, sprained both ankles and torn up a knee. That’s why, if I expect to cross the finish line in one piece on race day, I need as much practice as I can get.

Andrew and I can’t always get together, though. I’ve learned a lot of lessons doing this blindfolded running thing, one of which is that we’re both very busy people! So this morning, I informed my husband, John, that he had to pinch run for my sighted guide.

“That’s right, honey,” I said, handing him one end of the three-foot bungee cord that serves as my lifeline during my blind runs. “Be my eyes, and you won’t get any new medical bills.”

We hit a few rough patches where we couldn’t get our spacing right, and I clipped his feet. Running with my husband in broad daylight helped me understand just how in sync Andrew and I became after only a few runs in the dark. But we got the hang of it, and we even picked up speed at the end. Best of all, I didn’t fall or re-injure my ankles!

Near the end of our run, John pulled to a stop and told me to open my eyes (I didn’t have a blindfold today). Right when I did, a deer crossed the road in front of us. And then, just like that, it disappeared into the trees, and I closed my eyes and started running again.

Later, I thought about how Taylor would have missed that deer. I blind myself by choice for these runs and will blind myself for Thunder Road, but I can recover my vision at any time. Taylor doesn’t have that luxury; a monster called Batten disease stole her vision and a lot of other precious things from her.

And that’s why I run.

I will run the Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to support gene therapy co-funded by Taylor’s Tale at the University of North Carolina Gene Therapy Center. Donations to this cause are 100 percent tax-deductible. To support my run and our fight to develop treatments for Batten disease and other genetic diseases, click here.

Join the Taylor’s Tale team at Thunder Road! Click here to register for the marathon, half marathon or 5K. On the second page of registration, under “Event Groups/Teams,” select “Taylor’s Tale” from the list under “Choose an Existing Group.” Run for us to help raise awareness on race day. Stay tuned for more details, including special shirts for team members and an informal post-race event!


My Birthday Wish for Taylor

By Laura Edwards

birthday cakeMy sister, Taylor, will turn 15 on Monday. Taylor’s less than half my age, but she’s my hero. She’s done some pretty incredible things in her short life – like run two 5K races despite the fact that she’s blind and suffers from Batten disease, which is pretty much the worst disease on the face of the earth. That’s why, in three months, I’ll run Charlotte’s Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to honor her and help find a treatment for Batten disease.

I’ve had the same birthday wish for Taylor every year since her diagnosis in 2006. I want a world where people like my sister can dream of growing old. I believe in that world. Tomorrow, in honor of my sister’s birthday, you can do one of three things to help Taylor’s Tale achieve that dream:

  • Sign up to run for Taylor at Thunder Road on Saturday, Nov. 16, and help us turn the course purple for Taylor’s Tale. You can run the marathon, half marathon or 5K. Note: blindfold not required. 🙂 Be sure to join our team during the registration process. On the second page of registration, under “Event Groups/Teams, select “Taylor’s Tale” from the list under “Choose an Existing Group.” Run for us to honor Taylor and help raise awareness of Batten disease on race day. In return, you’ll receive a moisture-wicking team shirt and an invitation to an optional post-race get-together. Stay tuned for more details! Click here to register now.
  • Make a gift to Taylor’s Tale in honor of Taylor’s birthday and help support our fight against Batten disease and other rare and genetic diseases. All donations are 100 percent tax-deductible. We fund research that has the potential to lead to treatments for human beings. We’ve supported work at top institutions in the United States and Europe. Today, we’re co-funding work at the University of North Carolina that could lead to life-saving gene therapy for Batten disease and many other genetic diseases. To make a donation, click here.
  • Run 3.1 miles – or a 5K – for Taylor on her birthday, Aug. 19. Visit our Facebook page and share a post about your run. Be creative – share a photo or a description of your run, or just tell us that you did it! You can also connect with us on Twitter. Share your run with us on Facebook and Twitter.

Thank you for helping us write the happy ending to Taylor’s Tale!


Carrying the Torch

By Laura Edwards

I’m past the halfway point of the two-week rehab period prescribed by my sports medicine doctor, and I’m ready to get back on the road for Taylor. I don’t have any swelling in my sprained ankle, and the pain is much better this week than last. I’ve practiced the art of icing with a frozen cup of water; I kick off my shoes to do this at the office at least once a day, so I’m grateful for understanding coworkers. Barring any new setbacks, I should be back in a blindfold by sometime next week, just in time for the three-month countdown to Thunder Road.

Mom on trackMeanwhile, my mom’s carrying the torch for both of us. I thought I’d be able to publish a new post for each of her training sessions, but I’d never sleep. By my count, Mom’s made it to the track or the treadmill three times since her coach went down last week. She even went to Run For Your Life and bought new running shoes! Last night, I joined her at the Y near our house and lifted weights while she ran laps. Once, I crept to the corner of the stretching area with my phone and hid behind a weight machine until she came down the straightaway. I jumped out just in time to capture a photo of her. Mom didn’t stop, but the next time she came around, she tried to sneak a peek at my camera roll and get me to agree to approval rights.

Mom will be ready for Nov. 16, and so will I. You can join us and help save kids like Taylor. Just visit the Thunder Road website to sign up for the 5K, half marathon or marathon. If you run for the Taylor’s Tale team (available in the list of groups/teams), we’ll provide a moisture-wicking shirt and a fun post-race get-together. More details to come! In the meantime, please consider supporting our cause with a donation (see how below). All gifts are 100 percent tax-deductible and will support gene therapy at the University of North Carolina.

See you on the road…soon!

I will run the Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to support gene therapy co-funded by Taylor’s Tale at the University of North Carolina Gene Therapy Center. Donations to this cause are 100 percent tax-deductible. To support my run and our fight to develop treatments for Batten disease and other genetic diseases, click here.

Join the Taylor’s Tale team at Thunder Road! Click here to register for the marathon, half marathon or 5K. On the second page of registration, under “Event Groups/Teams,” select “Taylor’s Tale” from the list under “Choose an Existing Group.” Run for us to help raise awareness on race day. Stay tuned for more details, including special shirts for team members and an informal post-race event!


When to Fold a Hand

By Laura Edwards

In case you haven’t heard, I’ll run Charlotte’s Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to honor my sister and support the fight against Batten disease and other rare diseases on Nov. 16. I’m a seasoned runner with a drawer full of half marathon and 10-miler race medals. But I’ve never run a race of any distance without my vision, so my training for this race is unlike anything I’ve ever done before.

I returned from a long weekend in the North Carolina mountains this afternoon and made plans for a late-night run with Andrew Swistak, a good friend and my sighted guide for Thunder Road.

But just an hour after I messaged Andrew, I aggravated the still-weak ankle I injured on our first training run, all the way back on June 5. I don’t have any idea how I hurt it; I felt a sharp pain walking from my back door to my kitchen. In any case, I’ll be brushing up on my R.I.C.E. skills (rest-ice-compression-elevation) right about the time that Andrew and I would have met at my mailbox for blindfolded run number eight.

I’m frustrated about this latest setback, which may end up being nothing more than a one-day punishment – perhaps my body’s gentle way of telling me that I wore the wrong shoes to traipse around downtown Asheville, NC for two days. I’m sorry I won’t squeeze in a practice run tonight but am grateful, really, that logic won out in the end. Because the last thing I need is an injury I can’t overcome.

My sister’s fight against Batten disease has its ups and downs, too. She has good days and bad days. She has a heck of a lot of courage – far more than I’ll ever have – but even so, some days, the disease still gets the best of her. For her sake, we have to know when to fight back with everything we’ve got, and when it makes sense to fold a hand so we don’t lose all our chips in the end.

I might be taking tonight off, but I’ll drag my body – bum ankle and all – back out on the road as soon as I can. And I’ll cross that finish line for Taylor on race day, even if I have to crawl. You’d better believe I’ll fight for my dream – to save the lives of people like her – until we win.

I will run the Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to support gene therapy co-funded by Taylor’s Tale at the University of North Carolina Gene Therapy Center. Donations to this cause are 100 percent tax-deductible. To support my run and our fight to develop treatments for Batten disease and other genetic diseases, click here.

Join the Taylor’s Tale team at Thunder Road! Click here to register for the marathon, half marathon or 5K. On the second page of registration, under “Event Groups/Teams,” select “Taylor’s Tale” from the list under “Choose an Existing Group.” Run for us to help raise awareness on race day. Stay tuned for more details, including special shirts for team members and an informal post-race event!


Uneven Ground

By Laura Edwards

On Nov. 16, I’ll run the Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to honor my little sister’s fight against Batten disease and raise money for gene therapy at the University of North Carolina. Since early June, I’ve gone on six training runs with my sighted guide, Andrew Swistak, and we made more progress in those first six runs than I ever dreamed possible.

But I haven’t run in darkness since July 1. I’ve been on vacation for a week, and our schedules don’t jive in the coming week. I’ll keep my fitness level; running is part of my life, whether or not I’m training for a race. But I’m not blind, and running without my eyes isn’t like riding a bike without training wheels. It takes practice. So I expect to be a little rusty the next time I pull a blindfold over my eyes and grab hold of my lifeline, a three-foot bungee cord.

I’ve been on the South Carolina coast for the past week, and I laced up my third-string Brooks Glycerin shoes – the ones that have about 800 miles on them – for a couple of runs on the beach. On a late afternoon run at low tide, I thought about my long stretch without any practice runs with Andrew and wondered if I could survive a near-deserted, flat area of the beach with my eyes closed.

I started my experiment on the part of the beach between the powdery dry sand that the waves never reach – ankle-breaking sand – and the damp sand that just hours before had been underwater. I scanned the beach ahead of me for tidal pools and child-dug holes, saw none, said a silent prayer and closed my eyes.

Ten seconds later, the surf filled my tired Brooks shoes. The tide didn’t change; I just veered off course by seven or eight feet in those 10 seconds.

I kept my eyes open the rest of the way.

My self-imposed lesson brought back a memory of a hot summer afternoon at the same beach six years ago. Taylor’s vision had already begun to fail her, but otherwise, she was still the happy, vibrant, healthy kid we knew.

Taylor in the surf

Despite her vision loss, Taylor could run from our chairs to the ocean and back again, low tide or not. She had one hell of an internal compass, and she had no fear.

I’ve never been as fearless as my little sister. Even in that 10-second experiment on the same beach Taylor once ruled in summers that are now only a memory, I feared that I might re-injure my ankle or trip over a child running out of nowhere to chase a seagull or catch a wave.

Like it or not, those smooth, wide beaches are in our past. The path ahead is uneven ground. I’ll need at least an ounce of my sister’s courage to keep going. And whether I run one blindfolded race or one hundred, I’ll need to keep my eyes wide open for the real fight.

I will run the Thunder Road Half Marathon blindfolded to support gene therapy co-funded by Taylor’s Tale at the University of North Carolina Gene Therapy Center. Donations to this cause are 100 percent tax-deductible. To support my run and our fight to develop treatments for Batten disease and other genetic diseases, click here.


The Advocate

By Laura Edwards

The American Society of Gene & Cell Therapy’s annual conference kicked off early this morning in Salt Lake City, Utah. Taylor’s Tale is co-funding gene therapy for infantile Batten disease at the University of North Carolina, so the conference made our short list of “meetings to attend.”

The timing posed just one logistical problem: my father’s brother passed away last Tuesday, and the memorial service was scheduled for this afternoon.

After much soul-searching, Mom let Dad and Taylor put her on a plane bound for Salt Lake City yesterday evening. The minister gave a beautiful service, Dad and his surviving brother shared beautiful words, and Mom’s angel friends and the ladies of the church took great care of everyone. And two time zones from home, Mom did what she does best: save the world, or at least make a good bit of progress.

Mom at playathonFighting Batten disease and being an advocate for a rare disease community of 350 million people is a hard job, especially on top of caring for someone with a life-threatening illness. It’s a full-time job. And Mom, as dedicated as she is to Taylor’s Tale and all that we stand for, will always tell anyone who asks that she’s Taylor’s mother first. Taylor and her classmates have a dance at school on Friday. Before she left town, Mom took Taylor shopping for a dress; yesterday, she left the dress along with the perfect necklace and pair of earrings where Dad could find them. I’m certain that she’ll be sad Friday when she opens her eyes in a hotel room in Utah and pictures Taylor getting ready for that dance and knows that she can’t be there to give her a hug. I know she wanted to be there for my dad this afternoon when he read the words he wrote for his little brother.

But sometimes, saving the world means making tough choices. And this week, Mom’s making the kind of progress we dreamed about when we founded Taylor’s Tale in a Charlotte living room. She’s making the kind of difference I told her we could make – she could make – one night in the summer of 2008 when I stopped our walk in her neighborhood to make a short but passionate speech about how our effort needed to become a public charity.

We’re on the verge of something great, but we haven’t won. Which means my mother’s not done fighting yet. And I wouldn’t trade her for anyone else in the world.


What Drives Me

By Laura Edwards

Tonight marked the fifth annual meeting of the board of directors of Taylor’s Tale. I slid behind the wheel of my car at 9 p.m. – almost three hours after I pulled into my parking spot and long after a faded sun dipped behind swollen, purple clouds outside the windows in the board room.

Four-plus years have passed since we became a public charity; six-plus years have passed since we declared war on Batten disease. The discussion at tonight’s meeting reflected the incredible progress that has been made since my mom placed a bulk order for copies of The Cure, Geeta Anand’s stunning account of how John Crowley raised $100 million in an effort to save his children from Pompe disease, and distributed them to a small battalion of hand-picked soldiers in a Charlotte living room in the fall of 2006.

IMG_0932Tonight, my mom sat at the head of a board room table to deliver her updates. Some of the faces around the table were the same; some of them were different.

One month ago, Mom attended the first Southeast Venture Philanthropy Summit in Chapel Hill. Other attendees included the Michael J. Fox Foundation, the Gates Foundation and sleek biotech companies of all shapes and sizes.

Three days ago, Mom and two other board members toured the University of North Carolina’s Gene Therapy Center Vector Core – the most advanced facility of its kind in the nation. Down the street, one of the nation’s top gene therapy experts, Dr. Steven Gray, is leading a two-year gene therapy study for two forms of Batten disease that is partially funded by Taylor’s Tale. If successful, the work could lead to a human clinical trial in just a few short years. And as much as we want this for Batten disease, it’s much bigger than that. If Dr. Gray gets this to work, it can treat a lot of people with all types of problems; the principles can be applied to many other diseases – from Parkinson’s disease to ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) to Alzheimer’s disease…I could go on. And not only that, but it will be a one-time, low-cost, minimally invasive treatment as opposed to life-long, expensive, potentially invasive treatments that – in many cases – address some of the symptoms but don’t treat the disease.

VectorCenterbannerSeven years ago, I was learning the ropes of healthcare marketing and PR, coaching a girls’ soccer team, covering sports for the local paper and planning a wedding. I had a half-finished young adult novel and figured I’d get to it as soon as the honeymoon ended.

That all changed when I got the phone call.

Google “neuronal ceroid lipofuscinosis” and skim the search results. That’s how I first learned about our new world – and Taylor’s – on July 24, 2006, sitting at my desk at work, with my sobbing mother on the other end of the phone line.

The geneticist who diagnosed my sister said we shouldn’t bother with hope. My response from day one was “Screw that,” but fighting is easier said than done. It’s never been easy.

We’ve lost so much since that day.

But I’m proud of what we’ve achieved. Mom’s reports at tonight’s Taylor’s Tale board meeting embodied all that our team has accomplished and the astounding impact we stand to have.

Our fight began because of our love for one little girl. In those early days, we saw the love and the laughter and the courage that we so cherished about Taylor embodied in all of the children fighting Batten disease, and we fought for them too.

As we forged on, we learned more about the impact of rare disease: 30 million people in the United States – and 350 million worldwide. We realized that we could be doing more with the incredible scientific innovation we already have. We partnered with or endorsed organizations like the Global Genes Project and the EveryLife Foundation and went to Washington to lobby for all those fighting a rare disease.

And as we learned more and more about the wonders of gene therapy and the incredible people behind it, we realized that we could be part of something bigger than we ever imagined.

The possibilities of the immediate future and these next few years are boundless, and my mind races as I think about the impact we – the little group called Taylor’s Tale that my mom and I and a group of women who don’t like to take “no” for an answer founded in a mishmash circle of couches and ottomans and chairs over pimento cheese and egg salad sandwiches – could have – directly or indirectly – on millions of people.

That’s what drives my mind.

But in my heart, I’ll always be driven by my love for “T.”

Taylor_Laura_Cheetah