When the fighting had to stop

A modest terraced house in South Bank, Middlesbrough, is probably the last place you would expect to find a national charity. It's surrounded on both sides by derelict homes, their windows barred and boarded in a vain attempt to hold back squatters and sad, pathetic addicts looking for a place to crash with their drugs.

Once upon a time this was a pleasant street populated by young families and retired couples. Nowadays the only regular visitors are the police who turn up a couple of times a week looking for the dealers who loiter on the street or deal from the empty properties.

The houses nearby have long since gone, bulldozed as part of a multi-million pound "regeneration scheme" that could bring new hope to this part of Teesside.

Janice Fairbridge and her husband Stuart have hung on a lot longer than most of their neighbours. They've lived here for much of their married life. They have also run a highly successful national charity from the front room, that has brought hope and comfort to thousands of sick people.

Their efforts are all the more remarkable because Janice is a sufferer herself.

For almost ten years now, Janice has campaigned to raise awareness about the dangers of steroids. Not the stuff taken by athletes in an attempt to improve their performance but the tablets and injections prescribed to thousands of patients every week by doctors across the country.

Steroids are an effective treatment for a range of illnesses, including asthma, skin conditions and some forms of cancer. They can work very well but there are potentially dangerous side effects. Over exposure to steroids can cause massive weight gain, thinning skin, cataracts and brittle bones. Some steroid users claim that, over time, the drugs made them worse not better.

That's why Janice Fairbridge stepped up when the original steroid crusader, Cleethorpes grandmother Babs Diplock, died in 1992.

Even then she wasn't a well woman. Once a talented gymnast, Janice watched in horror as the medication prescribed to control her asthma caused her weight to balloon from nine stone to more than 16 stone. Her skin became paper thin and bruised at the merest touch. Even back in 1994 she needed the help of her husband if she wanted to do something as simple as going to the shops.

Janice founded GASP - a pressure group to campaign for sufferers of steroid side-effects - because, as she said at the time: "I don't want people to go through this thing alone." Little did she know, but thousands of people didn't want to face the trauma of side effects on their own. From humble beginnings with just a few dozen members GASP grew and kept on growing. At its zenith the group - which soon achieved charitable status - had more than 25,000 names on computer, all of them crying out for help as a result of taking steroid medication.

Today, Janice's health has deteriorated to the point when she can no longer continue. Permanently confined to a wheelchair, her remarkable spirit, grit, determination and good-old fashioned cussedness are no longer enough.

"Back in 1994 I hadn't the faintest idea that what we were doing would go on so long and attract so much attention," she says, not without some justifiable pride. Indeed, with 25,000 members on tap it wasn't long before the politicians latched on to the steroid story.

Politicians who have since become household names - among them Tony Blair - couldn't wait to grill the Government on what it was doing for steroid patients. Just months after GASP was formed, David Blunkett, the then shadow health secretary, wrote to Janice: "I have been following the issues of steroids for some time now and fully support the people who have suffered from side effects. I will endeavour to do what I can to ensure that your problems are fully addressed and the appropriate changes are made to guard against future problems."

When GASP travelled to London with thousands of names on a petition, Home Secretary Michael Howard promised: "This will be very carefully considered." Judging by the deafening silence from the Tories thereafter, one must be tempted to ask if he didn't just throw it in the nearest bin.

Even the Queen Mother offered her support, sending a small gift to be raffled in a celebrity auction to raise funds.

GASP took up the cause originally championed by Babs Diplock. Before her death, Mrs Diplock was suing Glaxo for compensation, claiming the company's drugs had left her with irreversible side effects. She also wanted to see a "no fault" compensation scheme introduced by the NHS to speed up payments to patients who suffered as a result of its medication.

Mrs Diplock's case against Glaxo subsequently collapsed but the fighting spirit she showed was reflected in the GASP campaign.

When the Tories left government the charity hoped its old champions in the Labour Party would act swiftly to help. They were to be disappointed.

"When they formed the Government it was as if we didn't exist," remembers Janice. "Letters and telephone calls went unanswered. It soon became obvious that they were as reticent about steroids as the Tories. Only Mo Mowlam kept in touch. She was the one MP who was true to her word."

Not quite. Labour did eventually move to answer some of GASP's demands. Patient leaflets have been introduced to give people some warning about the possible side effects of the medicines they are taking. In addition, a watered-down "no fault" compensation culture was also announced a couple of years ago

This represents a sizeable achievement for GASP, although campaigners believe the changes were somewhat half-hearted and maintain that repeat prescription steroids are still being issued without warning leaflets.

The constant letter-writing, phone calls and publicity also exacted a high price - quite literally - on Janice and Stuart, who were forced to use their own savings to keep the pressure up. Charitable status helped, but the pair still paid out hundreds of pounds each year so the group could carry on.

The last audit revealed GASP to be £7,000 in the red. As Janice says: "Losing a few hundred quid a year didn't seem like much but this amount out of our state benefit is too much - we can't afford to carry on."

To add to the couple's problems, their house is soon to be demolished as part of an urban renewal scheme. The council has bought their home, but at a price that is £6,000 less than is still outstanding on the mortgage. Not only that, but they have yet to be found alternative accommodation even though Janice is now housebound.

So GASP will be wound up. The telephone help line has been terminated, the last newsletter written and posted. Janice looks back on her time with a mixture of sadness and satisfaction: "At the end of the day, we were a bunch of sick people taking on a government and some of the biggest, most powerful companies in the world. I would have liked to have achieved more - if just one of us had got to open court I believe the floodgates would have opened - but, at the end of the day, we still raised public awareness about steroids to unheard of levels and we gave 'em a damn good run for their money. I also think we gave help and advice to a lot of very poorly people."

It's this kind of determination to help others - even though she is in constant pain herself - that marks Janice out as someone very special.

Despite her need for liquid morphine to quell the pain, the need to use an oxygen cylinder at times, the wheelchair and the damaged spine, in ten years' campaigning she never complained once.

Janice probably doesn't know this, but a few years ago she was nominated for an OBE in the Queen's New Year honours list. Tthe award went to someone else.

No doubt they were a very worthy cause; however, as a journalist who covered so many of GASP's stories and someone proud to call her a friend, I could not have thought of a more deserving person than Janice Fairbridge.