Crumlin Cardio and PICU Departments
Donation protected
We are first and foremost raising money for the incredible doctors, nurses, consultants, cardiac specialist nurses, surgeons working within the Children’s Heart Center and PICU units of Our Lady’s Children’s Health Ireland at Crumlin. Adam and I have witnessed first hand how undeniably dedicated and amazing each and every one of these individuals are. They have each gone above and beyond making sure that Stanley is receiving the best possible care imaginable, for which we will be indebted for the rest of our lives. Stanley’s story explains exactly why we have decided to try and give back, even though there isn’t enough money in the world to express our thanks and gratitude for what they have done for our son and for our family.
Stanley was born with a rare congenital heart defect, named as Total Anomalous Pulmonary Venous Drainage, otherwise known as TAPVD. His diagnosis was found at only 2 days old by Professor Kenny, who took time away from a very busy evening at CHI to diagnose our son. As devastating as discovering this diagnosis was, we were relived to know that his open heart surgery would be non-obstructive and straightforward. We were lucky enough to have Stanley at home with us for 7 weeks before we received the call that he would be undergoing surgery the following day on April 22nd. At the time of his surgery, we were informed that there was a waiting list of 100 children awaiting heart surgery. Due to the Covid-19 crisis, the hospital could only conduct 2 surgeries per day and many children were shortlisted onto a list of 40 for priority surgery. Stanley was included on this list of 40, due to his type of condition. Although Stanley was not sick or deteriorating massively, our surgeon Dr Lars Nolke advised us that his surgery would be conducted sooner rather than later as they were not sure how long his heart would hold out for. He was tested for Covid-19, and thankfully got the all clear and the go ahead for surgery.
On the morning of his surgery, he was handled and treated by the kindest, most caring and understanding nurses and surgeons, all of whom were very aware of just how anxious Adam and I were throughout this process. We were called every hour during his surgery for an update, including a phone call from his surgeon in the middle of his operation to assure us that everything was fine. His surgery was a complete success, thanks to the incredible surgical team. We were told that it would take another hour or two to move Stanley into the PICU unit due to the amount of wires, drips and machines he was linked up to. At around 3pm the same afternoon, I went to visit Stanley in the PICU unit and although I was braced for the incredibly long list of wires and machines keeping him alive, nothing can prepare you for seeing your 7.5 week old baby completely sedated, attached to a ventilator and chest drains. The shock of seeing him in intensive care soon subsided with relief at having seen him and knowing that his surgery was a success.
After Stanley’s diagnosis and during his time at home with us, Adam and I were very conscious and aware that although he was otherwise healthy, he still had an underlying congenital heart defect and with this, come some symptoms. We were constantly checking his breathing, coloring and circulation to make sure that he wasn’t struggling or deteriorating. 30 minutes after I arrived at PICU, the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced happened right in front of me. Stanley’s ventilation machine began to flash and let out a loud alarm and I saw his wonderful nurse Edwina hit the emergency alarm. I then witnessed Edwina performing compressions on him, as well as up to 20 doctors and nurses running towards his room. Stanley had gone into cardiac arrest, his heart rate had flatlined, his blood pressure had bottomed out and he had turned blue in front of my very eyes. By this point, I was hysterical and being removed from his room, convinced he was going to die. The ward and shift managers took me into an office, where I saw his surgeon, surgical team and the echo machine racing towards his room. I later found out that the entire ordeal was over within 4.5 minutes, but it felt like absolute hours. Adam arrived at the hospital after a nurse offered to call him for me as I couldn’t breathe, let alone string a sentence together, during which time they identified the problem, brought him back to life and arranged a list of medication to counter act the side effects of his surgery, including pulmonary hypertension. Adam and I stayed by his side for a few more hours, filled with anxiety about what would happen if we left, if it would happen again and what if this time he wouldn’t make it. We have tired to remain so positive throughout the last 2 months, but witnessing this knocked us sideways. We were given the direct line to his isolation room and told to call whenever we wanted to, even if it was every 5 minutes. We called every hour on the hour for an update and were assured that everything was fine. At 2am, we called and were told that he had gone into cardiac arrest for a second time. He received compressions for 2.5 minutes, as opposed to only 1 minute earlier on in the day. The cause of his first cardiac arrest was due to a secretion blockage in his ventilation tube which caused him to stop breathing. The second cause was purely just his body going into shock, which, in the grand scheme of things, is perfectly understandable given what his little body had been through.
As distressing as that 2am phone call was for Adam and I, strangely enough I wasn’t hysterical. I wasn’t having a panic attack. I knew he was fine, and he would continue to be fine because we had both witnessed first hand the sheer brilliance of how quick the reaction times were. You never think anything like that would happen to you, least of all your 7 week old baby. But those doctors, nurses and surgeons saved his life. 3 times over. They scaled back his recovery process and kept him sedated for longer than initially anticipated. Our expected stay in PICU was 2-3 days post surgery, however he ended up staying for 9. None of this was important or upsetting, as we knew that he was in the best place possible for him. He was then placed on 12 different IV drips into 5 different cannulas and remained sedated for nearly an entire week. They would only begin to wean him off certain drugs once they had triple checked via either an x-ray or an echo, and were in absolutely no rush to move him onto the Cardio ward. They simply knew that he just wasn’t ready given the trauma his little heart and lungs had been through. Adam and I asked a million and one questions, each of which were answered with brutal honesty and we were never left in the dark about any element of his recovery. In the days following his cardiac arrests, I suffered from PTSD whenever a machine made the slightest noise. However, I was shown and talked through every single tube drain, any medication given, what the noises meant and we were assured that they would move at his pace and only wean him when he was ready.
We have been utterly blown away by how thorough, concise and maticulous each and every nurse was. There truly aren’t enough words in the Oxford English Dictionary to describe how completely indebtted we are to these absolute heroes. Even amongst the current restrictions and strain the Irish health service is currently facing due to the Covid-19 crisis, they still found the time to operate on our baby and save his life more than once. The nurses and doctors fighting Coronavirus are incredible, but often the doctors, nurses, consultants and surgeons who show up to work every day behind the scenes, (in our case, the entire Cardiology department) certainly are not given enough credit for what they do. Day in, day out, they are saving children’s lives by conducting these surgeries despite the volume being scaled back. We know that there will never be enough fundraising, donations or thanks we can give to repay Stanley’s amazing team for what they have done for us. They have given Stanley a happy, healthy and long-lasting life, something that as his parents, even we couldn’t guarantee for him. But these amazing people did, and they have given us the most special gift in the entire world. We will now have our beautiful boy with us for life, and that is something that we will forever be grateful for.
Although we are aware that times are unprecedented and strange in more ways than one at the moment, we would be so grateful for any donations towards this phenomenal hospital. If we could give them everything we own, we would. It’s because of them that we are able to enjoy our baby boy and watch him grow up. I am also very aware that this is an obscenely long story, but it’s one that we felt needed to be communicated to the outside world in order to raise awareness of the hard work, dedication and utter kindness we have experienced. Please donate whatever you can, even if it’s minimal. The more support we can gather, the more we can support this amazing team!
Stanley was born with a rare congenital heart defect, named as Total Anomalous Pulmonary Venous Drainage, otherwise known as TAPVD. His diagnosis was found at only 2 days old by Professor Kenny, who took time away from a very busy evening at CHI to diagnose our son. As devastating as discovering this diagnosis was, we were relived to know that his open heart surgery would be non-obstructive and straightforward. We were lucky enough to have Stanley at home with us for 7 weeks before we received the call that he would be undergoing surgery the following day on April 22nd. At the time of his surgery, we were informed that there was a waiting list of 100 children awaiting heart surgery. Due to the Covid-19 crisis, the hospital could only conduct 2 surgeries per day and many children were shortlisted onto a list of 40 for priority surgery. Stanley was included on this list of 40, due to his type of condition. Although Stanley was not sick or deteriorating massively, our surgeon Dr Lars Nolke advised us that his surgery would be conducted sooner rather than later as they were not sure how long his heart would hold out for. He was tested for Covid-19, and thankfully got the all clear and the go ahead for surgery.
On the morning of his surgery, he was handled and treated by the kindest, most caring and understanding nurses and surgeons, all of whom were very aware of just how anxious Adam and I were throughout this process. We were called every hour during his surgery for an update, including a phone call from his surgeon in the middle of his operation to assure us that everything was fine. His surgery was a complete success, thanks to the incredible surgical team. We were told that it would take another hour or two to move Stanley into the PICU unit due to the amount of wires, drips and machines he was linked up to. At around 3pm the same afternoon, I went to visit Stanley in the PICU unit and although I was braced for the incredibly long list of wires and machines keeping him alive, nothing can prepare you for seeing your 7.5 week old baby completely sedated, attached to a ventilator and chest drains. The shock of seeing him in intensive care soon subsided with relief at having seen him and knowing that his surgery was a success.
After Stanley’s diagnosis and during his time at home with us, Adam and I were very conscious and aware that although he was otherwise healthy, he still had an underlying congenital heart defect and with this, come some symptoms. We were constantly checking his breathing, coloring and circulation to make sure that he wasn’t struggling or deteriorating. 30 minutes after I arrived at PICU, the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced happened right in front of me. Stanley’s ventilation machine began to flash and let out a loud alarm and I saw his wonderful nurse Edwina hit the emergency alarm. I then witnessed Edwina performing compressions on him, as well as up to 20 doctors and nurses running towards his room. Stanley had gone into cardiac arrest, his heart rate had flatlined, his blood pressure had bottomed out and he had turned blue in front of my very eyes. By this point, I was hysterical and being removed from his room, convinced he was going to die. The ward and shift managers took me into an office, where I saw his surgeon, surgical team and the echo machine racing towards his room. I later found out that the entire ordeal was over within 4.5 minutes, but it felt like absolute hours. Adam arrived at the hospital after a nurse offered to call him for me as I couldn’t breathe, let alone string a sentence together, during which time they identified the problem, brought him back to life and arranged a list of medication to counter act the side effects of his surgery, including pulmonary hypertension. Adam and I stayed by his side for a few more hours, filled with anxiety about what would happen if we left, if it would happen again and what if this time he wouldn’t make it. We have tired to remain so positive throughout the last 2 months, but witnessing this knocked us sideways. We were given the direct line to his isolation room and told to call whenever we wanted to, even if it was every 5 minutes. We called every hour on the hour for an update and were assured that everything was fine. At 2am, we called and were told that he had gone into cardiac arrest for a second time. He received compressions for 2.5 minutes, as opposed to only 1 minute earlier on in the day. The cause of his first cardiac arrest was due to a secretion blockage in his ventilation tube which caused him to stop breathing. The second cause was purely just his body going into shock, which, in the grand scheme of things, is perfectly understandable given what his little body had been through.
As distressing as that 2am phone call was for Adam and I, strangely enough I wasn’t hysterical. I wasn’t having a panic attack. I knew he was fine, and he would continue to be fine because we had both witnessed first hand the sheer brilliance of how quick the reaction times were. You never think anything like that would happen to you, least of all your 7 week old baby. But those doctors, nurses and surgeons saved his life. 3 times over. They scaled back his recovery process and kept him sedated for longer than initially anticipated. Our expected stay in PICU was 2-3 days post surgery, however he ended up staying for 9. None of this was important or upsetting, as we knew that he was in the best place possible for him. He was then placed on 12 different IV drips into 5 different cannulas and remained sedated for nearly an entire week. They would only begin to wean him off certain drugs once they had triple checked via either an x-ray or an echo, and were in absolutely no rush to move him onto the Cardio ward. They simply knew that he just wasn’t ready given the trauma his little heart and lungs had been through. Adam and I asked a million and one questions, each of which were answered with brutal honesty and we were never left in the dark about any element of his recovery. In the days following his cardiac arrests, I suffered from PTSD whenever a machine made the slightest noise. However, I was shown and talked through every single tube drain, any medication given, what the noises meant and we were assured that they would move at his pace and only wean him when he was ready.
We have been utterly blown away by how thorough, concise and maticulous each and every nurse was. There truly aren’t enough words in the Oxford English Dictionary to describe how completely indebtted we are to these absolute heroes. Even amongst the current restrictions and strain the Irish health service is currently facing due to the Covid-19 crisis, they still found the time to operate on our baby and save his life more than once. The nurses and doctors fighting Coronavirus are incredible, but often the doctors, nurses, consultants and surgeons who show up to work every day behind the scenes, (in our case, the entire Cardiology department) certainly are not given enough credit for what they do. Day in, day out, they are saving children’s lives by conducting these surgeries despite the volume being scaled back. We know that there will never be enough fundraising, donations or thanks we can give to repay Stanley’s amazing team for what they have done for us. They have given Stanley a happy, healthy and long-lasting life, something that as his parents, even we couldn’t guarantee for him. But these amazing people did, and they have given us the most special gift in the entire world. We will now have our beautiful boy with us for life, and that is something that we will forever be grateful for.
Although we are aware that times are unprecedented and strange in more ways than one at the moment, we would be so grateful for any donations towards this phenomenal hospital. If we could give them everything we own, we would. It’s because of them that we are able to enjoy our baby boy and watch him grow up. I am also very aware that this is an obscenely long story, but it’s one that we felt needed to be communicated to the outside world in order to raise awareness of the hard work, dedication and utter kindness we have experienced. Please donate whatever you can, even if it’s minimal. The more support we can gather, the more we can support this amazing team!
Co-organizers (2)
Amy Foster
Organizer
Adam Foster
Co-organizer