Did sneezing kill my boy?
Losing my boy broke me, but then a stranger proved that he’s never really gone
I felt proud as I signed my consent as next of kin
Suzanne Davis, 40, Stockton-on-tees
Looking out the window with a cuppa, I watched my sons Liam, 17, and Elliott, 12, playing football in the garden.
‘Goal!’ Elliott cheered loudly, as the ball went soaring past Liam.
I suspected he’d let his little brother score on purpose...
Typical Liam – he doted on Elliott, who had Down’s syndrome, as well as my other children Amy, 16, Erin, 7, Lewis, 2, and 4-month-old Evie.
I was so proud of my eldest. He was turning into such a good young man.
Then, on 19 June 2013, Amy and Elliott were at school while Liam was at home with me, Lewis and Evie, as he’d just finished college for the summer.
At lunchtime, he came downstairs rubbing his temples.
‘I’ve just sneezed six times in a row, and now I’ve got a headache, Mum,’ he grumbled.
I fetched him some paracetamol and water.
But, when I handed him his drink, I was stunned when he poured the whole glass over his head.
‘What are you doing?’ I gasped, grabbing towels.
‘It’s so hot!’ he said pulling off his jumper.
I felt his hand… he was burning up.
A split second later, Liam’s legs gave way.
I screamed, as he began convulsing on the floor.
I called the emergency services and the ambulance arrived while I was still speaking to the operator.
My neighbour stayed with Lewis and Evie while I went with Liam to University Hospital of North Tees.
He was taken to a resuscitation room, while I waited for what felt an eternity.
After 90 minutes, I was told that Liam had to be transferred to James Cook University Hospital, for neurological treatment.
The doctors weren’t sure why, but Liam had suffered a bleed on his brain. ‘Is he going to die?’ I wept. ‘I don’t know,’ the nurse replied honestly.
I followed Liam to James Cook, where surgeons removed the blood clot in his brain and stopped the bleed.
Afterwards, Liam remained in a coma, and I was told that the next 24 hours were critical.
Liam was ventilated, placed on life support.
I phoned relatives, made sure the kids were updated. But I couldn’t bear to tell them everything.
Liam remained in a critical condition over the weekend, and I was by his side every day. Get better, son, I prayed. But it didn’t look good. While I waited for the results of the brain-stem death tests, I spoke to the organ donation team, as Liam was on the register.
On Sunday 23 June, after five days in hospital, Liam was declared brain dead.
‘There’s no hope of recovery,’ the doctor said.
The words left me completely broken.
But I felt proud as I signed my consent as next of kin for Liam’s organs to be taken as soon as possible.
I remembered the conversation that Liam and I had once had about the topic.
We’d been watching Holly and Phil talk about organ donation on This Morning when he’d chimed in, ‘If you’re willing to receive an organ, you should be willing to donate one.’
And, when he had applied for his provisional driver’s licence,
he had signed forms to become an organ donor.
I have to honour that,
I decided.
So my boy’s heart, liver, pancreas and kidneys were donated and helped save the lives of six other patients in desperate need of help.
Amy, Erin and I all honoured Liam’s memory by becoming organ donors ourselves too.
My boy had made a difference.
But, over the next year, the kids and I all struggled.
Lewis and Evie were still so young.
I didn’t want any of their childhoods to be defined by sorrow. So, whenever any of them thought of anything sad, I encouraged them to also think of something happy.
That way, when any of my kids said they missed Liam, they’d also think of the mischief he’d get up to – his funny dancing, how he loved to pelt them with his Nerf gun.
In February 2014, I received a letter through the donor register from a little boy.
In keeping with the anonymity policy, there wasn’t much information but his dad had received Liam’s heart.
Thank you for saving my dad’s life, it read.
The letter was signed Matt, Charlie, Mum and Dad.
It was so powerful, I couldn’t hold back my tears.
I wanted to reply, but I just couldn’t find the words.
Still, the letter gave me strength – Liam hadn’t just saved another life, he’d saved a whole family.
In June 2018, reading the news, I saw the story of Alex Bell, 52, who was competing in the European Transplant Sports Championships.
He said he was gunning for gold, in honour of the 17-yearold boy who’d donated his heart to him.
Then I saw the picture of Alex with his wife Eve and sons Matt, 16, and Charlie, 12. The names from the letter... It’s got to be him, I thought to myself, feeling sure. I found Alex on Facebook, sent him a private message asking if he wanted to meet.
We share an amazing connection,
I wrote in my message.
Soon after, Alex replied, said he wanted to meet me! A week later, I arrived at the pub we’d chosen, and was sitting outside when Alex and Eve arrived.
I had a huge smile on my face when I saw this friendly-faced, healthy man walking towards me, arms outstretched.
‘Thank you for letting Liam save my life,’ he said to me, pulling me in for a hug.
Alex and Eve had even brought a stethoscope, so I could hear Liam’s heart beating again. Listening, I was in tears. It was like a message from Liam – Stay strong, keep
going. Just like my heart.
I told Alex and Eve about Liam, what a good brother he was, what a kind son.
Alex explained that he’d been at death’s door in June 2013, suffering a condition called dilated cardiomyopathy, when Liam’s heart came up.
Listening to him talk about his family and how he now lived life to the full, I knew my boy’s heart had found the right home.
‘We’ll keep in touch,’ I said, hugging them goodbye.
We’re planning to get our families together soon, too.
Alex vows that he won’t waste a second of Liam’s gift. But I’m grateful to him, too. For now, whenever I feel down, I can close my eyes and remember the thump of my boy’s kind heart.
And that’s such a very special gift, as well.
Alex vows he won’t waste a second of Liam’s gift