Getting it off his chest
My boy was suffering and I’d no idea...
Sheila Dawson, 45, Merseyside
My son Adam, 6, ran along the beach, racing to the sea to jump in the shallow waves... Whooping with excitement, he laughed as the cold water splashed his legs.
Adam was the image of a healthy little boy. Except for one thing...
Later, I mentioned it to my hubby Andy, 42.
‘Adam’s chest looks different from the other kids’,’ I said.
It was summer 2008 and we were on holiday with friends in Abersoch, Gwynedd.
I loved seeing Adam and his sister Grace, 3, having fun.
But now I couldn’t help worrying.
I’d first noticed the middle of Adam’s chest looked slightly sunken as I was getting him changed into a T-shirt, weeks earlier.
And now, watching him running around in the sun, there was no mistaking it. Back home, the GP referred us to Alder Hey Hospital.
An examination and X-ray, in August 2008, led to a diagnosis.
‘Adam has pectus excavatum,’ the specialist told us.
It was a rare chest-wall deformity, causing the ribs and sternum to grow abnormally. We’d never heard of it. The doctor said that, in some cases, the deformity corrected itself as the child grew.
And as it wasn’t causing Adam any medical issues, it was just a case of wait and see. But, as years went by, the hollow in Adam’s chest grew worse.
Thankfully, he wasn’t too bothered.
Back on the beach in Abersoch, in 2010, Grace got him to lie down in the sand and poured water from a bucket into the dip in his chest. ‘It’s a pool for my dollies,’ she giggled. Adam laughed, too. He never let the condition hold him back, loved school, played footy, had loads of mates.
But by age 15, his sunken chest was noticeable through T-shirts and he was becoming self-conscious.
During a checkup at Alder Hey Hospital, in February 2018, a CT scan revealed that Adam’s sunken chest had caused his heart to tilt.
‘Are you also having trouble breathing?’ the consultant asked him. Adam hesitated, then nodded. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. He hadn’t wanted to worry us by saying anything before.
He’d been suffering and I’d had no idea.
We’d always assumed the chest deformity was cosmetic, but now it turned out it was
affecting him much more. So worrying.
The doctor explained Adam could have surgery to fit a metal rod through his ribs, to move them into the right position.
After four years, it would be removed.
‘It will be the worst pain you’ve ever experienced,’ the surgeon warned. But Adam was unfazed. He’d barely complained after an operation on his leg. ‘I want the surgery,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll all support you,’ I said, putting an arm around him and pushing my own worries aside.
In May 2018, we got a call to say Adam was at the top of the list for surgery.
But he was in the middle of taking his GCSES and he’d been studying so hard.
‘You really need to get through your exams first,
son,’ Andy said. ‘OK,’ he agreed. Soon after, another slot became available...
On 20 August 2018, Andy and I left Grace with my parents and took Adam to Alder Hey Hospital.
Kissing him on the forehead, we both told him we loved him and watched as he was wheeled into surgery.
The next two hours felt like an eternity.
Thankfully, the operation went to plan.
When they brought him out, Adam was groggy from the morphine and his chest was bandaged.
But by the following day, he was able to get out of bed and walk slowly down the corridor.
The day after that, he was due to get his GCSE results.
As he wasn’t well enough to leave hospital, his grandad Harry, 70, went to South Wirral High School, Eastham, to collect the brown envelope on his behalf.
Harry was overwhelmed when he was greeted by teachers and a reporter from the local paper – Adam had achieved the highest GCSE grades in his school!
As you can imagine, we were thrilled.
A few days after that, we brought Adam home. He winced as he got out of the car.
‘It hurts a bit,’ he said.
I knew that meant that he was in agony.
‘Take these,’ I said, giving him pain-relief tablets the doctors had prescribed. When we changed his dressings two days later, I was amazed.
There were just three tiny wounds in his chest where the metal rod had been inserted.
But that was it. Barely any bruising.
Most of all, his chest was perfectly smooth.
By mid-september, the pain had eased and Adam started sixth-form college just a week later than planned.
He couldn’t carry his book bag in case he damaged his wounds.
Thankfully, his friends helped him out.
Although Adam had to stop playing football for four months, he began swimming instead, his confidence boosted by his new look.
Hopefully, within four years, when he turns 20, this will all be over.
After sixth form, he hopes to go to university and become a structural engineer. One thing’s certain. Nothing will hold him back now.