I just read this back and made myself cry. May was a big month for our family – this, however, was possibly the highlight of my year…

Father, Mother and 11 month old twin boys head to Sydney. 2 yr old Daughter has stayed behind so Grandma can take her to Daycare. They have woken at 3:30am, been in the car and driving since 4:20am. After a dream run, arriving in Sydney at 8:45am, they get the boys loaded into the pram and head into Westmead Children’s Hospital to have breakfast with Great Aunt and Great Grandparents. After much coffee, laughter, cuddles, kisses and well wishes, they head to the Cardiology Clinic to await Smaller Twin’s appointment. After a moderate waiting period – not enough to get frustrated, but just enough to retain the illusion of busyness – a Cardiologist Fellow (CF) calls out:

CF: Smaller Twin?
Mother: Yes, this one.
CF: Can we just weigh him?

They go into the weigh room. 7.43kg and 66cm long. A 643g weight gain in the five weeks since surgery. Absolutely amazing by Smaller Twin’s standards.
They proceed to the Echo room.

CF: Can you just get him undressed for me?
Mother: Just his top right?
CF: Yes, that should be fine.
(Looking at the child’s history) Oh wait, I remember you! You probably don’t remember me. You were sick and it was early in the morning.
Mother (remembering the night her baby was transferred from Canberra to Westmead NICU): You were there when they brought him in.
CF: I did his first echo.
Mother (remembering it was 3am when she’d watched it) Yeah!
CF: He had a miracle recovery.
Mother: Yep, they told us he would be here at least two weeks and he came back after four days.
CF: Well he was doing so well we had to send him back.

The CF continues with the Echo. Smaller Twin with ants in his pants behaves himself for the duration, only twisting out of boredom. They go through every toy on the shelf in a bid to keep him happy and occupied. They at last reach a clacking/bashing toy and both show him how to use it. He picks up on what must be done immediately. He spends the rest of the echo listening to his own heartbeat, his sing-song voice echoed back through the ultrasound machine and bashing the daylights out of the toy in an attempt to be as noisy and boisterous as a little man can be, lying prone on a bed being poked and jabbed.

CF: It’s almost done. Just two more pictures. He’s very intelligent!
Mother: Thank you!
CF: He knew what to do with that toy straight away.
Mother (rather chuffed, as all mothers like to hear how clever their children are): He’s a bit special.
CF: All done. He can get dressed now. I think this all looks good. Dr. C might want to err on the side of caution but it’ll probably be six months before your next appointment.
Mother (surprised and delighted): Oh wow. So we’ll wait outside for Dr. C?
CF: Yes. He won’t be long.

Returning to the waiting room, the mother passes on the news to the father and Great Aunt. Twin One plays happily in the pram and Smaller Twin is left free to roam the floor after being kept still for so long. A different fellow emerges and calls for Smaller Twin. Mother is confused. Usually Dr. C comes straight into the echo room to see the boy after his echo. She follows the new Fellow, wondering if she should be worried. A different room. Mother realizes that he will be having an ECG as well as the echo. They’ve never done this at the clinic before. She remembers that he had trouble keeping his heart rate down after the balloon angioplasty and is worried this indicates some other unforeseen problem. Her hope of her baby and her family having some time off begin to deflate. The ECG is finished very quickly. She redresses Smaller Twin again and returns to the waiting room.
Very soon, Dr. C and the first fellow return.

Dr. C: Hello Smaller Twin. How are you? Can I check your pulses?

The mother holds her breath. This is always the last test. If the pulses are easily felt they could be free and clear for 3 months, and maybe even 6 months if the fellow can be believed. The fellow and Dr. C have a chat. In the middle of the waiting room, while the baby’s pants are around his ankles and the mother holds her breath. The fellow mentions to Dr. C again that Smaller Twin is “very intelligent”. “Thank you” says the mother. She beams through her pride and continues to hold her breath. Then magic happens.

Dr. C (sternly and seriously): Look, I’m pretty happy with him. I can feel his pulses and can’t hear a murmur.

He is implying that the mother has nothing to worry about in concern to the paediatrician’s last assessment. He is assuring her that he is the expert. That he knows this baby and has been caring for this baby since he was a tiny 1.5kg emergency transfer.

Then he smiles very broadly, and says very quietly:

Dr. C: Well if I am happy, and you are happy (turning to the fellow, who nods vigorously) then I think we don’t need to see him
…
(wait for it)
…
For a Year.

The mother: Oh, oh! That’s fantastic. I think I’m going to cry.
Dr. C: No, no crying. Otherwise I’ll have you back in a month.

The mother beams, tears up. She looks at the father. He looks like she feels. The Great Aunt is literally jumping up and down. Dr. C and the fellow pretend they are not watching this celebration. But the mother sees their secret smiles as she moves to the receptionist to book in an appointment – over a year away. The receptionist looks bored, she’s seen it all before. But she is not unkind. She even mentions that the day Oscar is booked in for is already filling up.

It’s been a good day for heart kids it would seem. It definitely was for this one.