Virtually overnight Craig’s world and my world changed drastically. Craig had a life-threatening complication and was separated from his mother with whom he had the closest of relationships.
I was temporarily separated from my wife, my work and other important relationships. I think Craig, as an eight-year-old, was entering a situation that would unsettle most adults and I felt an increased degree of responsibility, love and empathy for him.
I became his security and a father in a way that neither of us had experienced; so much so that on our way to London he told me how much nicer I was than I had previously been.
In hospital Craig had his own room in a section for foreign children and a curtain separated his room from mine. My life became totally focused on his life and parents were encouraged to become involved in the care of their children.
I made his breakfast, read him stories, entered the shower with him to ensure that he did not fall, removed the odd catheter and was at his side whenever there were medical procedures involved.
I would inform him of whatever was going to be done to him, including many invasive procedures. I was determined not to mislead him. He trusted me and I admired his courage and exemplary behaviour. He related well to the doctors and other medical personnel and would, to their surprise, usually ask them how they were.
We had been advised to take Craig to GOS on account of the complexity of his condition – bilateral renal artery stenosis – the narrowing of both the renal arteries.
Relief for the left kidney was regarded as more likely to succeed if renal-artery reconstruction in the form of a splenorenal anastomosis was performed by a surgeon from St Mary’s, who had coincidentally grown up in what was then Rhodesia and done his medical studies in South Africa.
The surgery lasted approximately eight hours. It entailed severing the artery to the spleen and joining it to the renal artery at a point beyond the narrowing on the side closest to the kidney.
Craig recovered well and four weeks later we were on our way home to an emotional family welcome. However, before we left England, I decided to explain to Craig that we would have to return as he needed to have yet another operation.
He took this news surprisingly well but did ask for assurance that it would be the last operation he had to undergo. Again, I chose the option of conveying the facts to him, even if it was in a slightly diluted form.
When Craig and I left for GOS again in June 1989, I knew that the reconstruction of the artery to the right kidney was going to be extremely difficult as the narrowing was up against the aorta of the heart.
By this time Craig and I had got to know the surgeon well and he had developed a real interest in Craig. He frequently told me how he admired Craig and how exceptionally positive he found him.
The required surgery was known as an aortorenal vein graft, which meant that the saphenous vein had to be removed from one of Craig’s legs and used as a replacement for the malfunctioning renal artery.
As best I can remember, this surgery lasted approximately 12 hours and proved to be extremely challenging for the medical team.
I chose not to have anyone with me while I waited for Craig to return from theatre and spent much of the time walking the streets close to the hospital. My link to Patsy and the family in South Africa was by way of a public telephone and I can well imagine the enormous strain they were under during this marathon surgery.
Soon after Craig returned to his ward, I was told that it had been an extremely difficult graft to perform. However, there was realistic hope for success even if the probability was not high. My solace came from the belief that Patsy and I were doing our very best for Craig, and so were the medical team. I also believed that fortune and luck, if you wish, would at some point favour our eight-year-old.
After some days of considerable pain, Craig started complaining, which was unusual for him, and finally I was told that the operation had failed. I do not recollect how I addressed this with him but I do have a vague recollection of telling Craig that one of his kidneys had to be removed and that this meant another operation, but that it would be fairly quick and not nearly as painful.
I would imagine that my credibility was at risk but I do think that the surgeon and I succeeded in getting him to believe that he would get better if the kidney was removed. He was also told that it was not vital to have two kidneys.
The removal of Craig’s right kidney required a fairly straightforward procedure known as a nephrectomy and this signalled his imminent release from GOS and ultimately a visit to Hamleys, the renowned toyshop. Before returning home we spent a few days with caring family in Marlow as this provided an opportunity for final monitoring and rapid access to GOS in case of emergency.
Leaving Heathrow airport meant the end of an intense and challenging experience for Craig and myself. I gained even more respect and admiration for him and I think he developed the belief that he could trust me and rely on me.
4Ethel: The Drawer under the Bed
Ethel Schonegevel, Neville’s mother, was 84 years old when her grandson ended his life in 2009.
She is deeply religious and works tirelessly doing pastoral care for the Methodist Church in the small, picturesque farming town of Humansdorp in the Eastern Cape, about an hour’s drive from Port Elizabeth.
YOU KNOW, PATSY IS LIKE A DAUGHTER TO ME. I have loved her from the beginning. It doesn’t happen that often that a mother and daughter-in-law get
