‘I’ll be thinking about the family who gave Evie a second chance’
Brought together by tragedy, we were just families putting up our Christmas tree Nicole Doherty
After spending last Christmas by her daughter’s hospital bed, NICOLE DOHERTY is so grateful for the kindness shown to her family by strangers
As Evie slipped under the anaesthetic, my husband, Paul, and I held her hand and stroked her hair. A team of doctors, nurses and surgeons prepared to take her to an operating theatre for the heart transplant she needed so desperately. We’d waited eight months for this, but our hope was tinged with fear, and sadness for the family we would never know who had lost a loved one.
Until her second birthday, our little girl had been healthy and energetic. But suddenly she was constantly unwell, running a temperature and had a wheeze. I kept taking her back to the doctors but was told she had a throat or ear infection. One day she was sweating and breathing really fast. When I took her back to the GP, we were sent straight to hospital. Tests showed that Evie had dilated cardiomyopathy and her heart was failing. It was terrifying. I remember asking them, ‘Is she going to die tonight?’ But they couldn’t reassure me.
She pulled through, but it became clear that Evie needed a heart transplant. She was transferred to Great Ormond Street Hospital in London and put on a machine called a Berlin heart while she was on the transplant list. We called the machine Betsy and put stickers on it, to make it feel less scary.
The outside world disappeared as all our attention was focused on Evie. The months passed and then Christmas was around the corner. Even though they were busy, the staff made it as special as possible. We sang carols, the children made decorations, and we hung lights, baubles and tinsel. We’d been brought together by tragedy, but were just families putting up our Christmas tree. I think back on those December afternoons as a bright spot in our time in hospital. We would roll a big TV to the end of the bay, make popcorn in the microwave, put all our pillows and duvets on the floor and watch Christmas movies. Curled up with Evie and Paul, laughing away to The Muppet Christmas Carol, I felt a deep sense of love and an appreciation for something normal amid all the uncertainty.
On Christmas Day we opened presents with Evie. We hadn’t had the time or energy to go shopping, but luckily there are amazing people who donate gifts. Seeing the children enjoying something ordinary was very moving. It reminded us that while we were living in this little hospital bubble, there were strangers thinking about us and wishing us well.
Then, in the new year, we got a call to say a heart had become available. It’s impossible to describe the emotions that hit us. We knew it was a risky operation, but it was Evie’s only chance. While she was in theatre, Paul and I walked numbly outside, clutching Bunny, the toy rabbit she’d been given as a baby.
The heart was a perfect match, but it wasn’t straightforward, as Evie caught an infection that took weeks to fight off. But gradually she started to get better. It had been 10 months since we arrived, and it was a wonderful day when we were allowed to take her outside into the hospital grounds. Dazzled by sunlight, Evie looked curiously around, and pointed to a tree. ‘What is that?’ she asked. She’d been so little when she went into hospital that everything seemed new to her.
Last Christmas was special in its own way, but this year will be the most wonderful ever. We’ll have a real tree, and I’ll have my family round for Christmas dinner. I’ll also be supporting the Great Ormond Street Stocking Appeal, sending messages and donations to children and their parents.
I will be thinking – as I do every day – about the family who gave Evie a second chance. I will never find the words to thank them enough for making the decision that saved our daughter’s life. Evie is nearly four now. I’m so proud of her and thankful for every single day that we have with her.