"you need to prepare yourself for the worst and we need to take him down right now"

15th April: 

Frances and I had taken our regular trip to Brighton. I went with her as much as I could, even on the days I knew I wouldn’t be allowed in the hospital so long as I wasn’t working. It was always nice to be able to be there even if I couldn’t go in. I never wanted to miss out on news and I always wanted to be as supportive as I could. Frances always had to come with me as well because she was the driver. However, I’m sure she would have come with me even if I could drive.

What started out as a regular visit on that day swiftly turned into a roller-coaster of emotions. Frances went into the hospital and as soon as she got up to the ward she came back down to the car, "Ethan, they want us to both go in, Oliver is not well".

Feeling like I was experiencing a bad case of Déjà vu, I thought to myself “I have heard these words before”. Initially I couldn’t even get a word out of my mouth and my body started to feel numb. Then my brain went into overdrive and I thought, “this is it, this is the day it is going to happen and we are driving home today leaving this hospital different people”.

It had become a habit of mine to act positive even if I didn’t feel it. An impenetrable wall was built and the guard that I had put up was unimaginable. I was always expecting the worst news, even though Oliver had proven time and time again he was a fighter.

But on this day, before I even got into the hospital, I was convinced he was going to die before evening hearing what the nurses had to say. 

I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone; waiting and feeling that at any point the news was going to come that he had passed. At this point into Oliver’s story, my sleep pattern was erratic; I was not sleeping and always feeling tired. I was working and travelling and trying to be positive, but deep down I was petrified every day just waiting for the news I was dreading.

As we both walked back into the hospital, we were taken to a side room. Again, immediately when this happens you know it’s not good news. Especially when both parents could go into the hospital during the covid-19 pandemic.

Sitting down in this waiting room and waiting for the doctors to come in, it feels like you’re there for a lifetime. Once they came in and we were all together in this little room, the doctors and nurses said to us "Oliver is not well". Expecting this news already didn’t take away the effects that came from hearing it spoken out loud. “How unwell is he?” I asked and the nurses went on to say that his bowel had once again perforated, and that surgery was needed as soon as possible.

Instant flash backs to Medway hospital came flooding back; going back to the night he was rushed to Brighton not only 1 week before. My heart sank to hear this news. The only way to describe it is if you have ever miss placed your wallet, phone or keys, but 100 times worse.

This time round receiving the news was slightly different; the look in the Doctors’ and nurses’ eyes will haunt me forever. You can tell a lot by people’s eyes and this time there was something different. Last time we knew it was bad, but the way they were looking at us made me realise that this time around was much, much worse.

Sadly, my gut instinct was proven correct and the surgeon softly said, “he was lucky last time, but this time we don’t expect Oliver to make it”.

2 operations in the space of a week and he had already had 5cm of bowel removed.

"you need to prepare yourself for the worst and we need to take him down right now" 

Faced with the stone-cold reality that this is it, your body and mind just shut down. There’s no coming back from that news; you almost feel completely zoned out.

In the gentlest way possible to put this, I just didn’t want Oliver to suffer. I fully wanted him to have the surgery, but at the same time I wanted him to be out of pain; whatever that entailed. I felt selfish for wanting to put him through it and I felt selfish for keeping him alive. I didn’t want my son to die, but I wanted him to be free of the situation he was going through. To have those feelings all at once eats you up inside; I felt like the worst parent ever for just wanting my son with me and alive to just make me feel better.

To have the thought of “I’ll be upset, but also at peace if my son dies during this operation, because I know he won’t be suffering anymore” is incomprehensible. And I only meant it in the context that he had already proven his strength and shown us love and done so much, that he need not fight anymore, and I would still be so proud of him. 

Forms filled out, and again looking at the potential risks, we signed the paperwork and off he went. He was already blessed from last time and we called as many family members as possible. It’s hard to describe but while receiving the information from the medical professionals is hard, relaying it to your loved ones is even harder. On the phone not being able to get a word out, hearing the concerned voice of the person on the other end asking, "what’s the matter?" 

Once again, our boy’s life was all in their hands, and 3 hours of surgery time had passed. Waiting for any information, the surgeon finally came to us in the family room and said the surgery was a success.

After 3 hours of surgery and his 2nd surgery in the space of a week, our boy pulled off another miracle and won another fight. He made the surgery and amazed the surgeons and doctors in the process.

Not knowing if the last time you saw someone was going to be the last time you would ever see them alive was one of the toughest battles I have ever been through. 

My emotions at that time, and even now 6 months on, are very up and down.

As I have said already, being told once that your son might die is horrific, but to be told twice to “prepare for the worst” and the feelings this results in, is something I can never forget. It’s just something I will have to learn to live with. 

Also, I have a daughter (as you may know if you have read previous posts). My need to protect her has increased tenfold. I had so much anxiety that something was going to happen to her because of what was happening to Oliver. I still over-compensate with her today. I’m learning to relax a little, but the anxiety is still there. I worry that something could happen to her all the time. It’s silly thoughts, but they are very real to me. She’s a tough little kid though, so I needn’t worry really.

Next... probably a digression but this isn't going to be the last of the scares.