My son was skewered!
It was a miracle that my boy survived THIS... Gabrielle Miller, 39
The 10-minute journey to A&E felt like a lifetime
Feeling the sunshine on my face, I leaned out of the bedroom window on a warm September afternoon.
The sound of shrieking, boisterous boys flooded through the house.
‘Be careful up there,’ I called out to my son Xavier, 10.
With a troop of friends, he was climbing up the steps of a tree house in our neighbour’s garden.
That hut had been a fun HQ for Xavier and his pals throughout the summer.
My daughter Chayah, 14, was playing upstairs, while my hubby Shannon and our daughter Teah, 12, were out.
Closing the window, I relished a rare moment of peace in our usually bustling house, here in Missouri, USA.
But no sooner had I begun to relax, than an ear-piercing scream rang out.
Recognising the wails as Xavier’s, my heart raced as I ran outside. ‘Mum!’ he shrieked. I could only scream his name as I took in the scene in front of me.
In complete shock at what I saw, I had to do a double take.
My precious boy had a metal spike sticking out of his head!
Still screaming, his breath coming in gasps, Xavier was going into shock.
His gang were right behind him, pale and scared, tripping over their words.
‘There were bugs...skewer... in the ground... fell…’ they gasped.
It didn’t make any sense.
But, right now, it didn’t matter what exactly had happened.
I couldn’t start freaking out.
I knew that I needed to get Xavier to hospital.
I called my parents, who lived just a few doors down, and they rushed over to be there for our kids. Neighbours also came, looked after Xavier’s pals.
Leading Xavier to the car, my mind was racing.
Had he been shot with a crossbow? Could doctors get it out safely?
Amazingly, there was no blood. But every time I looked at the spike piercing Xavier’s face, I felt sick with fear. My poor boy could barely open his mouth. ‘It’s OK, baby, we’re going to get you to the hospital,’ I reassured him. As I carefully manoeuvred him into the car, I noticed yellow, striped insects dotted across Xavier’s body. I’d been too focused on the spike to see them until now, but he was covered in wasps! I brushed the bugs off him – and moments later, we were on our way to the hospital. Then... ‘Mummy, I’m dying, I can feel it!’ Xavier blurted out, tears streaming down his face. ‘Stay with me, darling!’ I urged him. The 10-minute journey felt like a lifetime. Arriving at A&E at Cass Regional Medical Center, we were rushed by ambulance to University of Kansas Medical Center. Shannon met us there, the shock of seeing the skewer in our boy’s face draining all the colour from his cheeks. Over the next few hours, Xavier was scanned, X-rayed, and given strong pain-relief medication. The doctors debated the best way to remove the metal pole.
‘We’ve never seen anything like it,’ one said.
The medical team grew to 100 doctors, surgeons and specialists.
Piece by piece, I learnt what had happened.
Wasps had set upon the lads in the tree house and the boys had tried to get out to escape from them.
‘As I climbed down, I was stung, I let go and fell to the ground,’ Xavier managed to say.
‘Then what happened?’ I asked, stroking his hand.
‘I thought I’d just been stung again when a pain ripped through my head.
‘But, when I opened my eyes, I saw it sticking out of me,’ he whispered in horror.
He’d fallen straight onto a foot-long, metal rotisserie skewer, something he and his friends had found earlier in the day, and stuck into the ground so that no one would step on it. Bizarre, terrible luck... ‘Your son is one in a billion,’ the doctor told me, handing me a copy of Xavier’s X-ray.
The spike had missed every artery, every nerve.
It’d grazed his jugular vein but the blood had immediately clotted.
A miracle.
But the risks weren’t over yet. We still had to get Xavier through surgery.
As he was wheeled into theatre, my heart ached.
Shannon was a mess, too, gripping my hand.
But Xavier was calm, even
singing his favourite song, Reckless Love by Cory Asbury.
‘Why are you guys so upset?’ he asked, turning his head towards us. We could barely reply. Kissing him goodbye, I was terrified that I’d never see that smile again. ‘I love you so much,’ I said. ‘Love you too, Mum,’ he replied to me.
When Xavier had gone to surgery, Shannon pulled a doctor aside.
‘Be honest with me. Is there a chance he won’t get through this?’ he asked, tears in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry, but that is a possibility. We will do our best,’ he said.
For the next eight hours, we paced the hallways of the hospital. Our family had gathered to offer support, but nothing calmed me down.
Not while my boy was undergoing surgery, his life at risk, a spike sticking out of his head.
And then, finally, a doctor bounded into the room.
The grin on his face told me everything I needed to know. ‘The spike is out and Xavier is just fine,’ he smiled. ‘He’s a medical marvel.’
I’d never felt so grateful.
An hour later, we were able to see Xavier.
Sitting up in bed, his face bandaged, he had to wear a neck brace for the next 18 hours, but... ‘Mum, I’m alive!’ he beamed. After five days, Xavier was allowed to come home.
Telling all his friends about what he’d been through, the news spread across the community. Now, other than having a tiny scar that the doctors expect to fade, Xavier is fine. You’d never know the horror he’d been through – and I’ll never forget that terrible day, hearing my precious boy say he was dying.
Thank goodness the doctors got that spike out, and he’s home safe and sound.
I’m just so grateful there wasn’t a tragic sting in the tale.
The grin on the doctor’s face told me everything