Mitchell’s Story - Part 2
No boundaries for our Heart Kid
Meet Mitchell, our son. Mitchell, like so many of our ‘Heart Children,’ looks like any other healthy boy. However, looks can be deceiving, as most of us know. Mitchell has the congenital heart defect, Pulmonary Atresia with Ventricular Septal Defect (VSD). Mitchell has come along way in his ten years.
Today, Mitchell played his first local league cricket game, the first of the season and his life. He did not hit a four, but he did take a wicket; it rolled three quarters of the way to hit the stumps!
Our breaths caught in our throat and the adrenaline rushed; but ten years ago, it was for a very different reason.
“Something was wrong,” they said, Mitchell was “dying” said the neo-natal intensivistand ‘we don’t know why.” It was just hours after Mitchell’s birth. The Newborn Emergency Transport Service (NETS) transferred Mitchell to Westmead Children’s Hospital. The nightmare continued.
Less than 48 hours old, Mitchell underwent his first surgery, a closed heart procedure, where a ‘shunt’ was implanted. It made an artificial connection from his heart to lungs, so oxygen could circulate through his body, as it should normally. I remember explaining it to friends and family, “as a slight detour until road works were finished. “
Pulmonary Atresia, for those of you whose children have different defects, is a condition where the pulmonary valve is either incomplete or not developed at all. A Ventricular Septal Defect, more readily recognised as, ‘a hole in the heart,’ sometimes requires surgical repair. Mitchell’s was large, 25mm, and it was too large to close on its own.
Mitchell was eighteen months old when he had his repair and it took hours in the operating theatre. It was frightening and the wait seemed interminable.
After surgery doctors said, “things had gone well.”
However, within twelve hours Mitchell started to deteriorate. After three days doctors, determined the stitching used on the ‘patch’ to close the hole in Mitchell’s heart had come loose.
They would have to operate again, but “would he survive?” was the question his cardiothoracic surgeon and I asked. The reply was stunning, “he probably will not without it.”
I would love to say, that not only did Mitchell survive, but he also thrived however, I cannot. After the surgery Mitchell’s kidneys failed, his lung collapsed, and he developed a life threatening blood infection; but he was alive.
Slowly, as each medical issue was resolved, he started to improve; however, he now hated everyone. He would not talk, smile, even eat, or sleep for anyone, aside from his dad and me.
This went on for five weeks, actually for many years. Mitchell had to have speech therapy, was very shy around people, both known and unknown, other children did not interest him, he was serious and they were silly.
Watching Mitchell today, I saw him as part of team, making friends, being a healthy ‘normal’ boy. I watched him ‘dig in’ not giving up that wicket and I knew once again, he had what it takes to win, in cricket and in life. When I look at thesepictures, it is not hard to see how far Mitchell has come. Nor is it hard to recognise why our son, is one of my heroes.
