My son, my hero
It's two days after Christmas and A and I are sitting in the cardiac unit at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia.
We'll be here for the next two days, not exactly how most kids want to spend Christmas vacation, but A isn't just any kid. A was born with a severe cardiac defect that, if left untreated, would have been fatal within the first few weeks of his life.However, thanks to a revolutionary technique that was developed right here at CHOP, kids with A's defect now have a fighting chance to not only survive, but to thrive.A is part of a special generation of cardiac kids. Initially, survival was the only focus of the series of procedures that he's undergone. Quality of life was less of a concern, when life itself couldn't be guaranteed. Even kids who survived their surgeries faced many additional complications as they grew.As surgeons perfected their techniques, and technology advanced, the long term outlook for these kids began to improve. There are also some real heroes who have helped make A's quality of life as good as it is today, and those are the cardiac kids that have come before him, and that's why we're here today. A has volunteered to be a part of a study to help doctors understand how his slightly different cardiac anatomy might affect the blood flow to his brain. For the next two days, he'll undergo a series of tests including blood work, an MRI, and dozens of different types of evaluations.When we first found out about A's defect, when he was a fetus of about 18 weeks, our lives became about ratios and percents. One in about 100 babies are born with some sort of cardiac defect, ranging from ones that may go undetected for years, to ones that can be fatal without immediate intervention upon delivery. There are about 600-1000 cases of defects similar to A's reported in the U.S. every year. At the time of A's delivery, he was given about an 85 percent chance of survival. I could go on and on with the numbers, but the truth is, when it's your child, he is the only number that matters.I know how gut wrenching it was to have conversations with doctors about A, even with the 85 percent survival rate. I can't imagine back in the 1980s, when the conversation ended with a 0 percent chance of survival.I also can't imagine the conversations between a brilliant, pioneering surgeon and parents that may have gone something like this: "Your baby is going to die. But, I have an idea that might offer the slightest chance of hope. But, chances are pretty good that your baby might not survive the surgery. Will you let me try?"I know the devastation and the terror that I felt when my baby went through the doors to the operating room, knowing that I had an 85 percent chance of seeing him alive again. I do not know how parents made that journey knowing that that was the end of their road. Honestly, I can't wrap my head around it.We've made that trip a total of three times, and every time, I have asked myself how those parents did it. Grateful is a small word for the feelings I have for those parents and those infants who were willing to do that.One day, however, that surgeon came out of that operating room with amazing news, and since then, kids like A have had a chance, and that chance has continued to grow continuously. The debt that we owe to those families can never be repaid, but we can do our best to pay it forward. That's why we're here today.Since A was born, we have had many opportunities to participate in studies of various sorts. We've always, without hesitation, said yes. Now, before you think I've signed my son up to be some sort of lab rat, rest assured that the majority of studies that he has been involved with are noninvasive.On the rare chance that it has been a study involving tissue or other sample collection, it has always been done in conjunction with another procedure that he is required to have. The other types of studies have usually been different types of evaluations, by physicians, psychologists, child development specialists, sports medicine professionals, and the many other professions that take an interest in improving the lives of cardiac kids.At the beginning of each study, there is usually some generic language stating that as part of the study, you give the group conducting the study permission to use the data they acquire, and you are advised that you will not receive any direct benefit from the study, although, with your permission, they will usually share any diagnostics with your regular physician.This study, though, was different from all previous studies. This is the first time that A had to give his consent to participate in the study.The WH and I are both pretty passionate about doing what we can to further cardiac research, so we had to talk each other down from pressuring A to participate in this study. My own heart just about exploded when he readily agreed to participate, even though it meant spending a few days of his Christmas break in the hospital.2016 was not a banner year. I think most of us can agree to that. Princess Leia AND George Michael in the same week? Seriously? But, our visit here this week has been a good reminder that there is a lot of hope in the world, and that legitimate miracles do happen every single day.And, when a 10-year-old boy is willing to make a small sacrifice, and endure a little bit of discomfort (they did have to draw some blood), so that tomorrow may be a little brighter for other kids, I think 2017 might not be as bleak as I am imagining.And, A, I know you're reading this. You are my hero today and every day, but your room still needs to be cleaned, your book report and science project completed, and for Pete's sake, please remember to brush your teeth.