Two weeks later post op, we went up to the children’s hospital to have his dressing changed or so we thought.
We were waiting in the room for Oliver to be called. I saw Oliver’s surgeon walk in and she looked at me and smiled, I felt a really strange feeling like something wasn’t right. We went in and she said another consultant was going to come down and talk to us and he wanted to see Oliver’s leg. I didn’t really understand why but I didn’t question it at the time. The nurse kindly asked if we would like them to look after Oliver whilst the surgeon was going to have a talk with us. She started with telling us they had the histology report back and the tumor is aggressive. I was scared, I mean, what are they saying to us? Her exact words were it is aggressive like a cancer in terms of how rapid it is growing.
At this point I was in my own world and then I heard the word amputation. What? What did she just say to me? She didn’t say that she is mistaken, this isn’t real, this isn’t happening. I sat there in disbelief and thought I can’t question her about what she has just said I have misheard her. So I asked her again, how you would remove the tumor she looked me in the eyes and said ‘the next step is amputation of the leg’. I felt like I was suffocating.
I couldn’t stop the tears from running down my face. I looked at my husband his eyes were filling up. Words can’t explain the moment, the moment that we were told my precious little boy would have his leg taken away. He wouldn’t have a foot; he wouldn’t have ten little toes. His life would change, forever.
They couldn’t leave this tumor on his leg, he would never be able to walk or run. I mean, what am I supposed to do, what would you do? The longer it is left the worst it will get. She said I know you will probably want to know if this was found earlier would it have ever got to this stage, we will never know that but it was always going to do what it has done. They also said that they wouldn’t be able to operate on his leg because it wouldn’t be a functional leg due to the amount of extensive surgery that would need to be undertaken.
We walked out the room to head towards the car and we didn’t even talk to each other. I opened the car door sat down, looked at each other and cried in each other’s arms. I can’t do this, I can’t take my baby to have his leg taken off, I can’t take him on the day, what have I done, what could I have done to prevent this? I am the mother I am supposed to protect him. I feel like I have failed him. Where will they put his leg/foot? I’m so scared. How do I prepare for something like this? I mean, they never teach you for this kind of thing. I have spent the past year bringing up my baby and it feels like I’m starting all over again.
This time last year I would have never imagined to be sitting here writing this, feeling such pain and heartbreak trying to put a brave face on for everyone. That’s what I’ve got to do right? I mean the world doesn’t stop moving. Even though I want to scream to the rooftop and tell the whole world how I feel.
The day I see my little boy stand on his prosthetic leg and take those small steps is the day I most look forward and will be the biggest and best day of our lives.
Oliver is due for another MRI later this month. It’s been around 7 weeks after Oliver’s surgery and they need to make sure there is no residue of the tumor left behind his knee that could result in the tumor returning. I pray that god is looking over my little boy.