For those of you who may not have seen or heard, I’ll detail the horrendous happenings in the Lawrie household during July 2005. It will make a very distressing read and I apologise. Nobody should have to go through what we did and we had no idea what to expect so I can only hope that our experiences may help another family in the future both from the actual medical situation and also from the way events took place. On Wednesday 15th June 2005, Calum’s taxi driver and escort took him and his friend Liam out for tea, as it was the last available time. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. Calum was to finish school on 16th June and Malcolm had one day’s holiday available to him so took it for Friday 17th. After Calum finished school we did the packing and as soon as his Dad got home from work we packed the car and went off to Scotland to spend the weekend with Malcolm’s parents, who are in their 80’s. (I am now so glad we did.) It was a very warm and humid weekend so Calum was hot and sticky and didn’t sleep well. This pattern continued for a couple of weeks. Everything that occurred could be put down to the weather, his inability to cope with the change in his routine, or his fears for the future. On Tuesday 28th June a friend took Calum to his favourite local safari park (Calum’s choice) but they didn’t stay more than a couple of hours, as he was tired. From not sleeping well, we thought. He came home very pale and went to sleep on the settee. The next day he was still tired and pale but had his Induction Day at college ready for September. I took him out for lunch and his behaviour was horrendous. He shouted, slammed his fists down on the table and in general behaved in an absolutely dreadful manner. I was so embarrassed and upset, as he has always loved eating in restaurants and always behaved impeccably. He went to college, Katrina collected him, took him to McDonald’s for tea, and he was violently sick as soon as he had eaten, but after she had told him to hurry up, so we put this down to stress. He hardly slept all night and I was at my absolute wit’s end by morning, so got a Doctor’s appointment. We discussed his change in behaviour and the purple marks on his torso “caused by him nervously pulling at his skin”. Eventually at 5pm it was decided to give him a sedative to try to break the pattern and give us both some rest. I had had a fleeting thought, as he was so pale and his teeth were looking grey, that we might be looking at Leukaemia here, and dismissed myself as a stupid person. I gave him the sedative at about 7pm but he was up and down stairs for hours and eventually fell asleep at midnight on the settee and slept until 2am. While he was asleep his breathing was fast and shallow with a “squeak” at the end. I suddenly thought, “My God, I know what’s wrong! He’s got pneumonia!” I rang the out-of-hours GP and took him along at ¼ to 3. This man examined him and said there was nothing wrong with him so we went home. All day Friday Calum was deteriorating in front of my eyes and I was crying because I didn’t know what to do. I eventually rang the local surgery to ask what the other symptoms of Meningitis are and was told this definitely wasn’t Meningitis and to get him there as quickly as possible. Luckily Gayle was off work that day and took us. The GP we saw ordered a blood test as he thought we were looking at a platelet breakdown. We were to ring Monday for the results. He also prescribed steroids and anti-biotics. At 7pm a doctor rang to tell me that Calum had to be admitted to hospital immediately as his platelet count was 29. On the Saturday he had various blood tests, an ultra-sound scan and a chest x-ray, with people breaking their weekends to come into work especially for him, and his bloods were being couriered for testing. By 5pm we knew he had a 6” x 6” x 2” mass in his pelvis, an enlarged spleen and fluid in him pulmonary cavity. It was decided that he very likely had a blood cancer and would have to go to North Manchester Children’s Hospital (Pendlebury) the next day. I went home to get more clothes for us both and cried in his room because I didn’t think I would bring him home again. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that a mother’s intuition is a myth. I’m proof of that, and it doesn’t make me feel better. We went to Manchester on Sunday and saw the Paediatric Oncologist. She explained what would happen over the next few days. Malcolm and the rest of the family went home and Calum and I allegedly settled down for the night. They had managed to find some platelet infusion for his A- blood group and started the infusion about 11pm along with a re-hydrating drip. His breathing was getting really bad. During Monday we saw the Oncologist, Dr Eddie Estlin, who would be caring for Calum. He had many blood samples taken; nosebleeds started again so he couldn’t tolerate his T-tube oxygen and had to have a mask. He experienced enormous pain whilst having a CT scan and another chest x-ray. By 5pm that evening, (48 hours from the original diagnosis) we were told that the tumour had grown to invade all his major organs, including his heart. An ICU bed was booked ahead for him and he was to go to theatre at 9am Tuesday morning. A bone marrow biopsy and spinal fluid would be taken, his Hickman Line put in place, possibly fluid drained from his pulmonary cavity and if necessary a biopsy of the actual tumour. Poor Calum deteriorated rapidly and had to move to ICU during the night or was not expected to survive long enough for the surgery to take place. Surgery was initially delayed to give him time to stabilise but then it became obvious that it had to go ahead as planned. Throughout all this Calum was still ordering people around and genuinely endearing himself to all the staff who could not believe how he was coping with such a serious situation. I walked to theatre with him at 9.40am. At 12.30 Calum was back from theatre and the Oncologist was fairly confident that the (fairly uncommon in the UK) B cell Burkitt’s lymphoma could be treated successfully and Calum would be in remission in 6 months. Sadly, by evening the tumour that had grown so rapidly began to die of its own accord without any chemotherapy having been started and Calum needed dialysis to try to remove the detritus from his bloodstream. By the following morning there was no pupil reaction and a brain scan revealed swelling at Calum’s brain stem. Mid morning saw liver failure and despite huge efforts by dedicated staff the decision was made to let Calum die with dignity. His ventilator was removed at 2.20pm and he died immediately with all the family around him. Calum’s funeral took place on Friday 15th July, six days after my and Katrina’s birthday and three days before Malcolm’s 50th birthday. He had a police escort through the village and the crematorium was packed. It was an utterly beautiful service. My little man will never be forgotten. Thank you everyone for the cards and messages. They are a great comfort and can be read at leisure after the speed of the events.