Facebook keeps telling me to add something to my page to entice visitors. And I’ve got plenty to share (or at least, I will in a month, when my self-imposed embargo ends) but none of it feels like it matters much at the moment.
See, a little over a month ago, we got a phone call in the early hours from my brother in law. My niece Eliza, who had been in hospital with rotavirus for a couple of days, had a brain tumour. She was off to Queens Medical Centre in Nottingham for life-saving surgery. And the world kinda stopped. She turned fourteen months old that day, and that’s a very small brain in a very small head. This picture was taken around the time she was diagnosed, pre-surgery. You can’t tell from looking at her, but her brain was dangerously full of fluid at this point. I think that was the weirdest part of it: she didn’t LOOK much different, aside from the slightly blown eye.
She had her surgery three days later. It took twelve hours, but she got through it apparently with only very minor damage. She was diagnosed three days after that with a malignant ependymoma. This is a fairly common type of brain tumour in younger children, but brain tumours aren’t particularly common.
Brain cancer. Urgh, what a horrible pair of words. After two more surgeries, and a few complications, Eliza started chemo this week. One week down, fifty-odd to go.
So, that’s what has been happening. But let me tell you a bit about Eliza, because she’s so much more than a diagnosis. She is a warrior. She is Boadicea, laying waste to north Lincs. She came round from her surgery bitching furiously about it all, and then dinosaur-growled her way through recovery. She spent precisely two days in intensive care after her surgery, because she was not going to let a little thing like major neurosurgery keep her down for long. She was not supposed to be able to move much for a month or so after surgery: two weeks later, she woke her dad up looming over him in her cot because she’d had enough of lying about. She is marvellous. She loves to dance, she loves her dog, she loves music, she loves banging cups together and goes to sleep clutching them. She has always reminded me of an owl, with her big, knowing eyes. You get the impression that she knows exactly what’s going on, and doesn’t like it at all! She’s wise. She’s supergirl.
My BIL and SIL have put everything else on hold in order to spend as much time with Eliza as possible – what else can you do in these circumstances? They’ve had three days at home in the last month, the others have been spent sleeping on hospital floors (because you only get one camp bed per bay) and eating 80% of their meals from Costa. It’s alright for a few days, but it does get a bit much after a month. They have access to the Clic Sargeant house in Nottingham, but they don’t want to leave her. They’re fundraising to help cover their living and transport costs, because they can’t work at the moment. You can donate here, if you feel inclined, or share the fundraiser on your own social media.
And if I owe you work, I apologise if it’s taking a bit longer than I promised!
Sophie Michell 