It’s hard to believe that Hugo’s transplant was three whole months ago. Where on earth has that time gone?! I realise that I’ve not written a blog, or given a Hugo update, for a while; we’ve had a pretty busy month, and thankfully it’s been without a single trip to hospital. August was officially full of home, fun and making memories. In fact, I think this is actually turning into our longest stretch at home with Hugo ever. Since he’s been born. TOUCHING WOOD!!
Before I get onto the Hugo update, I just wanted to do a bit more canvassing on behalf of the organ donation community. Tomorrow (Monday 7th September) is the start of National Transplant Week. The demand for organs is on the rise, due to a mixture of an aging population, alcohol and obesity. But there are fewer transplants happening; there are three people reportedly dying while waiting on the list every day. According to the British Liver Trust, 96% of us would take an organ if we needed one, but only 29% of the population is on the Organ Donor Register. It just doesn’t feel right; it DOESN’T ADD UP. Ross and I recently watched the BBC documentary, Transplant Tales, and we were shocked to discover that 40% of potential donor organs are refused by the family. This is one of the highest refusal rates in Europe. It’s not enough just to sign yourself up to the register; the NHS relies on your family’s consent to allow them to fulfil your wish. So this week, there is a call for everyone in the UK to discuss organ donation. Sign up to the register, but more than that, tell your loved ones what you would like to happen after you die. Talk about it. Actually, scrap that. Shout about it. Make it clear what your wishes are; one conversation could be the difference between you giving a desperately needed second chance to another family, or that opportunity being missed.
Of course, we didn’t end up needing a donor organ for Hugo. We were lucky enough that we could go down the living donor route. But this doesn’t detract from how we both feel about organ donation; we still lived on the torturous tenterhooks of the waiting list with Hugo for three months. He probably wouldn’t be here with us now, heading with great strides towards his first birthday, if he hadn’t had a transplant. His new liver has absolutely transformed him. We are living now, not just existing, not just waiting and watching.
This is a feeling that is only strengthened by the amazing and incredibly inspirational kids (and their families) we’ve met since we were thrown unexpectedly and unwillingly into the liver world nine months ago. Babies and children who suffer from an array of health problems, whose only chance of survival is to receive a life saving gift from a total stranger. Some of these kids have had their transplant; some are still waiting. We are lucky to be able to count these families as our friends, and watch with absolute joy and awe as they fight, thrive and survive against the odds. We go through their journeys with them, as they share in ours. If you ever needed another reason to sign up, then these kids are it.
We met all of these kids at some point during our various stays at King’s. All of them have had a new liver for different reasons. Eli had an liver disease that was so rare, they had to come up with a name for it – Notch 2 gene related liver disease; Tilly, Sam and Mali all had Biliary Atresia; Jess had pancreaticblastoma, a very rare form of cancer; and Harry had acute liver failure at 11 years old. They are all so strong, and such examples to all of us – all of the above pictures are post-transplant. They, along with anyone who has ever received a new organ, are the faces of National Transplant Week. They are why we need to turn the stats around. 29% of the population on the organ donor register?! It’s not enough.
So please, if there is one thing you do this week, it’s have that chat. And then tell the world. Get on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, and use the hashtag #sayidonate and get people talking. Do it… Please.
As well as it being the start of Transplant Week, Monday also marks another milestone for us. After three months, Ross is declared ‘officially’ recovered and returns to work. He’s done incredibly well – for a man who can’t stand mess, and who happens to be married to a somewhat lazy woman, he must have been chomping at the bit to speed up his recovery at times. And aside from the few instances he’s been told off (both by me, and by King’s), he’s been very patient and let his recovery take priority. We’re both looking forward to him going back to work – it’s another step towards that thing we call ‘normal’, even though we don’t really know what that is anymore. It goes without saying that I’m incredibly proud of him.
As for Hugo… In general, he’s been really well. It’s not been totally smooth (when is it with Hugo?!), but nothing has happened that hasn’t been manageable. When his last bloods came in, the initial results were encouraging – liver function was normal, Tac levels were stable – so King’s told us his bloods would be going to monthly, a really positive step forward. But a few days later, we found out that his EBV DNA was raised. EBV is the virus that causes glandular fever. It is very common, and most people’s natural immune system is enough to keep the virus in check. But in immunosuppressed people, not only can it develop into glandular fever and result in that person being very poorly (and probably in hospital), but it can react with one of the meds and develop into PTLD – post-transplant lymphoproliferative disorder: cancer. King’s have reduced Hugo’s immunosuppressants to allow his body to fight the virus, and told us to watch out even more carefully (although I’m not sure that’s even possible) for signs of illness. This leaves him with a slightly increased risk of rejection, but this is something we’re going to have to get used to – the balance of risks being managed and decided by someone else. We have faith that the team at King’s know their stuff, and are always acting in his best interest. He’s had some repeat bloods now, and we’re just sitting tight for the EBV results. So fingers crossed, everyone!
As much as we feel like we’re settling into our groove now, when it comes to doing stuff with Hugo outside of my immediate comfort zone (that is, being at home, or out with Ross), I’m still struggling a bit. Yes, we’re having loads of fun, living life to the full and we’re making loads of lovely memories, but we’re still doing this within relatively tight boundaries at the moment. I want nothing more than to be able to completely relax and enjoy life as it is, to not worry about whether or not our plans might pose a threat to Hugo. I would LOVE to be a mum who could just take their baby to a social event or play group without a second thought, one who could happily hand her baby round groups of people without having to worry; not only is it good for him in developing his social skills, but he’s becoming such a heavy and wriggly lump now that it’s exhausting keeping hold of him! But I just can’t be that person… not yet, anyway.
Now that we’re starting to get back into (our own version of) normal life, we’re faced with the reality of what Hugo’s disease and treatment means for him, and for us. Although he’s no longer battling with end-stage liver disease, and he’s essentially healthy, he’s still not a ‘normal’ child. His liver disease has not been ‘cured’, it has been (and is still being) treated. On the face of it, he looks totally well, like any other child of his age, so I can understand that people think he’s totally ‘better’. But he’s at much more risk than he seems, and it can be hard to balance that knowledge with functioning in day-to-day life. I’m still too nervous to take Hugo anywhere crowded, so I either don’t take him, or I don’t go. We took him to a family wedding last week, and although the day was beautiful and it was amazing to be out with the family, I could also feel myself becoming increasingly anxious as the day went on; once he was at home being babysat for the evening, I finally felt able to relax. It still felt too soon. I’m slowly getting better at rationalising the risks and my need to be in control. I don’t feel myself physically tensing up when I sense a risk anymore – not as much, anyway – but I’m still a complete slave to antibac. The thing is, I know that as time goes on, he’s going to go off to nursery, to school, to work, and I’m not going to be able to protect him in the way that I can now. I’m just going to have to figure out a way to deal with that as and when the time comes, but for now I’ll keep doing what I can to protect him.
Anyway, Hugo’s really thriving in his own environment now. He’s a bit behind where he might have in his development been at this age, but I think that’s totally expected given how long he has spent in hospital beds during his short life so far. But he’s catching up incredibly well; at their recent visit, the local Occupational Therapist was surprised at how well he was doing, as his referral from King’s had suggested that he would need a lot of attention from them. He needs some physiotherapy; although he is rolling now, he needs some help in developing his leg strength to start crawling and standing. He is always trying to move about, so I’m sure once he’s shown how he’ll be off (that reminds me, I really need to baby proof the flat…) He’s taken to teething on my chin – something that’s becoming increasingly painful as his teeth get closer to coming through (any day now, we hope – he’s still 100% gummy bear at the moment!), but I love it all the same. He’s turned into a total chatterbox (dada, nana, bla bla, no and blowing raspberries are his favourites. Not mumma, of course), and he’s developed some incredibly cheeky characteristics. He knows when he’s being cheeky – he has a telling glint in his eye. It’s beautiful.
As the days go by Hugo is becoming more and more our baby, rather than our baby with a liver transplant. For so much of his short life, he has been defined by what he has been going through, and it feels as though we’ve finally turned a corner with this. Yes, it’s still a major part of him – it always will be, and we have absolutely no problem with that. But it’s just a part of him now, rather than being his all. He’s just gone from strength to strength over the last few weeks, even with a virus lurking in the background. I’m just so proud.