Hickman line surgery

For a long while after the diagnosis I would wake each morning and think I’d had an awful dream.  Then the reality would dawn, and the stone swallowing feeling would return.  Zac gets admitted into the RVI on January 3rd, in preparation for his surgery on the 4th.  While under, Zac would have his Hickman line fitted, a tube that is inserted through his chest that feeds into a vein that leads to his heart.  His chemo and various other drugs would be administered through this, and it would also enable hospital staff to draw up samples of his blood easily when needed.  During surgery he would also have a lumbar puncture to check for any malignant cells in his spine, and a vascath inserted.  The vascath is essentially a giant needle in a tube that gets placed into his femoral vein just below his groin and will be where the blood for the stem cell harvest is collected from.

Being admitted onto a paediatric oncology ward is when it really hits home.  Most of the children are bald, have a feeding tube up their nose and may be hooked up to several machines.  We were entering into our new reality, and it was scary and upsetting on that first day.  With time we grew fond of the ward, it became our safety bubble, and we would end up really missing the place when it was our time to move on.

We decided early on that we would take turns doing alternate nights on the ward with Zac.  This allowed one parent to return home and see Joseph, our youngest son who’d just turned 1 and our parents, who took turns in looking after him.  The person coming home would update everyone on the day’s events and enjoy the luxury of a home cooked meal and a good night’s sleep, ready to return to the hospital in the morning feeling refreshed and able to bring some much-needed energy to Zac and the parent who had done the night shift.  We are acutely aware at how lucky we were to be able to do this- living so close to the hospital and having our parents nearby to help, as many of the parents on the ward didn’t have this option.  I can only imagine the relentless exhaustion of the single parents who were on the ward doing it all alone.