Vivienne Prendergast’s Story
Our daughter Vivienne had always been an extremely unsettled baby. From day one, she never slept and rarely ate, always on the borderline of being underweight. It was at 18 months of age that she contracted a common cold which lead to what was thought to be a routine examination at our local GP.
Our GP informed us that she could detect quite clearly a heart murmur but given the fact that she had a cold, it could well be something relatively simple and told us to come back a week later after her cold subsided to do another check. We were told the murmur was still very much there and were referred to a pediatrician for further examination.
A few days after seeing the pediatrician we were across from the Royal Children’s Hospital having a preliminary echocardiogram and hoping that we would never have to walk in across the road to the Children’s Hospital any time soon. Unfortunately the news was such, that we would in fact have an appointment in the Royal Children’s Hospital to see Dr Dan Penny (a most brilliant and wonderful man) a few weeks later.
After more ECG’s and Echocardiograms we sat down with Dr Dan to be told that Vivienne had what was commonly called an ASD (atrial septal defect) or put simply “A hole in the heart”. Not the sort of news you wish to hear when you believe you have a perfectly healthy child.
Dr Dan was very reassuring that Vivienne’s condition was in fact relatively common as far as heart conditions go and, although there was no immediate urgency, there was the likelihood that something would have to be done in the future. It was decided that we were to return in 6 months time to review her situation, whilst now being aware that there was a very real chance that our little princess may have to have open heart surgery.
I think I spent as much time researching ASD’s on the internet as I did worrying about what the future held for us. It’s funny how we say “us” even though it’s happening to our child – Truth is, for anyone who has to go through this journey, IT REALLY IS HAPPENING TO YOU. That sounds so selfish in a way.
Being from a very emotionally charged family myself there was not a minute that was empty of questions about Vivienne’s future or of the realisation of the potentially negative consequences that totally absorb your world – especially being the man of the family and feeling like you really need to be strong for everyone around you.
Over the next 18 months we saw Dr Dan another 3 times with each visit learning more of Vivenne’s condition and further more being conditioned for the reality that we initially hoped would never eventuate.
It was not long after her third birthday that we were advised that her ASD was showing no signs of closure and would therefore need to be repaired by way of open heart surgery. There was finally some relief at this point for we finally had some direction. Shortly after, the necessary appointments were made with the surgeon Dr Yves (another champion of this wonderful hospital) and Vivienne’s surgery date was set. The real but short wait had finally begun.
Unlike a lot of children that suffer from heart defects, Vivienne never really showed significant signs other than the odd blue lips and a little lethargy nearing her operation, so for us we never quite comprehended the severity of her condition.
Pre admission day came quickly enough with a long day of routine pre operative tests and examinations. Thankfully, Vivienne never really understood what having her heart fixed meant, but it was always good to know that the promise of McDonalds at the end of the day could put a big smile on her face and keep her young mind from being scared of what was to come.
After a sleepless night we found ourselves at admission at 7.00am waiting for the anaesthetist to come and fill us in on the procedure. With Vivienne all drugged up and ready to go, we were called up to theatre around 8.30am to see off our little princess for the operation that would change her life forever. We waved good-bye to her knowing she was in the best hands in the world and were glad to see her pretty happy little face smiling as she was wheeled away to theatre.
Taking the hospital’s advice, we went for a long walk in the park around the hospital with our then 18 month old son Max and received the long awaited call around 12.30pm that day that Vivienne was doing fine and the surgery had gone well. We were advised that she had undergone some extra surgery commonly required with ASD patients to repair some drainage veins as well and that all was good.
Vivienne was fast tracked to recovery where we were allowed in to be by her side as she slowly woke from her surgery. It was tough to see her in this state, connected to so many tubes and wires. It’s just not fair for them to have to go through this, you think to yourself, but over and over you tell yourself that it is all for the best, whilst trying to deal with the surreal nature of everything that’s going on around you.
Slowly she came to and started asking for some water and before we knew it she was doing really well and the nurses were talking about taking her up to the ward. Within seconds that all changed. Vivienne had taken a sip of water and started to vomit which lead to her choking and not being able to breathe. 3 seconds later her vitals plummetted and she was blue and emergency staff were coming from everywhere. All this right in front of our eyes. My wife and I were escorted away from her bedside and reassured that the doctors would be doing everything they could to help her. It is at this stage when your heart falls and you feel completely helpless as the possibility of your daughter dying starts to look like a very real outcome, just when you thought you were through the hardest part. But the nurses were right and the magnificent staff at the RCH got her breathing again in seconds. Just a bit of a hiccup they said. “Oh and about 20 years off our lives”. But who cares when we got our princess back.
Vivi spent the next three days in 7 West doing all the routine procedures for recovery and hating most of it. It was a bit hard as she didn’t co-operate too well but in the end “we” got there.
Three months on, it all feels so surreal and I feel so grateful to be able to tell our little girl’s story in the hope that one day, if someone else finds their precious little child has an ASD, that they will know they will be fine – just like our Vivi.
There will be years of routine checks and some smaller hurdles to jump with some minor things to watch in her heart, but all in all, the future that was so dark two years ago is now “oh so bright”. Good on you Princess!
Written by Corey Prendergast, Vivienne’s Dad – April 2008