One evening in October 2021, our four-and-a-half-month-old son Harrison had a high temperature and really didn’t seem himself. Becoming increasingly worried, we called 999 who sent an ambulance. However, the paramedics said that his readings were okay and, because we were in the middle of COVID-19, it would be best to keep him at home and call again if he went downhill.
Harrison in hospital. Credit: Lulu Trask
The following morning we just knew that Harrison wasn’t right so again called 999. Worried about Harrison’s low blood sugar levels, he travelled by ambulance under blue lights to our local hospital in Greenwich, immediately taken on arrival to resus for life-saving treatment.
With at least ten doctors and nurses all around him we couldn’t see what was happening, but we knew something was seriously wrong. We soon learned that Harrison was having seizures but, as the medics didn’t know why, the on-call paediatrician had been contacted and was on her way to the hospital.
Struggling to breathe, Harrison was taken into the operating theatre where he was intubated and placed on a mechanical ventilator. When scans on his brain revealed that something wasn’t quite right, the decision was made to transfer Harrison to Great Ormond Street Hospital (GOSH) in central London for specialist care.
Numerous tests took place in the days that followed. After initially suspecting that he’d had a stroke, a lumbar puncture (taking fluid from his spine) revealed that he had contracted pneumococcal meningitis, a potentially fatal inflammation around the brain and spinal cord. Within just 24 hours, Harrison had gone from being a happy boy out to lunch with his mum to being kept alive on a ventilator in intensive care. It was utterly devastating, and we felt so helpless.
With Harrison seriously ill and so much uncertainty around his condition, we were desperate to stay as close to him as possible. After a couple of nights in emergency accommodation, we were told by one of Harrison’s intensive care nurses that we had been given a free place to stay at Guilford Street House, a ‘Home from Home’ run by a charity called The Sick Children’s Trust, located a few minutes away from the ward.
We went to Guilford Street House later that day, where Fatima from the charity showed us around. She could tell that we were in a state of shock, and I’ll always remember how kind and gentle she was while explaining all that the ‘Home from Home’ had to offer us.
Mum Lulu cradling Harrison. Credit: Lulu Trask
Guilford Street House was such an incredible lifeline as it allowed us to be at Harrison’s bedside in an instant. In a period where our lives had been completely turned upside down, it gave us a small sense of normality and control. The homely feel of the house provided real comfort away from the clinical hospital environment. The chance to have a shower, make some dinner or watch a bit of TV allowed us to switch off mentally, even if it was just for five minutes.
For three weeks we spent almost every waking minute at the hospital, and we were so grateful for a proper bed, allowing us to get a good night’s sleep so we could be strong for Harrison and face the challenges of the next day.
Harrison couldn’t leave intensive care until he went 24 hours without a seizure, staying there for a week before spending a further two weeks on the neurology ward. Throughout that time the wait for news or progress updates was absolutely excruciating. Doctors had frank conversations with us about ‘managing expectations’, with no-one able to predict the extent of his recovery. The doctors didn’t know if he would be able to walk, talk, swallow or even move around much. It was clear that we would have the hardest few years of our lives ahead of us.
When we left GOSH, just under three weeks after we arrived, I extended my maternity leave. Rather than baby classes and coffees with other mums, we faced weekly appointments with the community nurses, community paediatrician, local hospital paediatrician, dietician, speech and language therapist, epilepsy consultants and physiotherapist. Most upsetting was that Harrison’s brain injury had left him with no memory of how to swallow. We tube fed him for three months. Inserting the tube was really distressing for him, which in turn was upsetting for us.
Harrison is as close to a miracle as science comes. Not long before his third birthday, Harrison was discharged from GOSH. His neurology consultant told us it was the best recovery he’d ever seen, and today you’d have no idea anything ever happened to him. He did have a few developmental delays, but now he is the most energetic, active and loving little boy. We take him to rugby classes every weekend, he rides his bike and scooter to nursery, talks our ear off and has his own little group of friends – everything we thought we’d never see. We know there might be a few challenges ahead, but he’s had the best possible outcome.
The Sick Children’s Trust is a charity that you don’t know about until it comes to your rescue. Ever since they helped us our friends, family and colleagues have been raising money for them, something we will continue to do as a family.
Lulu Trask and Will Fisher – Harrison’s parents
Harrison with mum Lulu and dad Will. Credit: Lulu Trask.