Our World Changed on Saturday 6th February 2021

Our world changed on Saturday, 6th February 2021. Ellie had been having some low grade temperatures for about 10 days. She would be fine during the day and then spike a temp in the evening. She has had this happen before over the course of her life but usually it was self-limiting to 1 week, as often happens with a virus. When we got into the 10 day mark I thought I would make an appointment with her GP just to get a full blood count and urine. Also, we started noticing she had a decreased appetite and was quite tired. But, this was also the first week of school after summer break and adjusting to the full days can be tiring, so I wasn’t jumping to any conclusions. But as a nurse and mom, I did start to query a more uncommon virus or worst of all, an autoimmune issue. 

I took Ellie to the GP on that Saturday morning and the doctor noted some enlarged lymph nodes int posterior chain in her neck. I also palpated them after he noted them. We decided to do a full blood count, kidney and liver function tests, C reactive protein and an antinuclear antibodies. We also did a urine test and culture. Ellie was so brave that morning, having had her first ever blood test. She got a sticker and a certificate of bravery. I think she had a big rest that afternoon and just a quiet day after that. 

At around 9:30 PM, Paul and I were watching a movie and having a glass of wine when I got 2 calls from a no caller ID number, which I ignored. On the third call I decided to answer, thinking it was really unusual to get a call that late on a Saturday night, especially form an unknown number. That call changed our life forever. The voice was a woman named Grace something or other. She said, “Mrs Carter? I’m so sorry to call you so late. I am the head hematologist at Douglas Hanly Moir pathology. I’m reviewing your daughter’s blood sample. I’ve tried to get a hold of your GP but he’s not answering. I don’t want to alarm you but I think it is important that you bring your daughter to the hospital now.” I said, “Doctor, can you tell me what you mean? I’m a nurse.” She paused and then said, “There are some cells in your daughter’s blood that shouldn’t be there.” I then whispered the most gut wrenching question, “Do you mean like a malignancy?” She said, “Yes.”
 
I told Paul what the pathologist said and that I needed to take Ellie into hospital now. I’m not sure if he really understood then, or was just attempting to be optimistic, but he said I’m sure everything will be fine. I went up and packed an overnight bag for myself and Ellie and then went into her room. She was still up reading in her cute Peter Alexander PJ’s with puppy dogs on them. I said, “Honey, you know how you’ve been having the temperatures? Well, the doctor who looked at your blood tests today has suggested we go to hospital so that we can help get you better and figure out why that is happening.” She happily got up went downstairs, kissed Paul goodbye (Annabelle was already asleep) and we trotted off to the car. We drove in the dark happily chatting, as it was a novelty for her to be up so late.
 
When we arrived at Emergency they were waiting for us, knew our names and that we were coming, which I found very eerie but I never said anything about that. The lovely nurses admitted Ellie and got her settled with lemonade and crackers and even gave her a teddy bear which we named, Dr Pinkie. Once she was settled the head ED/ER doctor came over and introduced herself to Ellie and me. She asked Ellie f it was ok if she took Mummy away for a little chat. Her name was Linda. Linda took me into an empty room and said “do you know why you were asked to come in tonight?” I said, “I was told there are some abnormal cells in Ellie’s blood.” She said, yes and showed me the pathology results and pointed to something called blasts. I said, “I’m sorry doctor but I don’t know what that means. Can you tell me what that means?” She looked me straight in the eye and said “Your daughter has leukemia.” And then, as I let out a gut wrenching sob, she enveloped me into the strongest, biggest hug and said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”. As I was crying into this stranger’s shoulder she then pulled me back and again looked me in the eyes and she said fiercely and adamantly “She will be OK. She will be OK.” 
 
I thank God for that moment and those words because if not for that kind doctor, I don’t know how I would have survived the next 2 weeks. Because although I knew it was some sort of cancer, nothing prepares you for those words. 

KC