A New Life: Sometimes life forces change with one cruel and abrupt turn of fate. The Milner family describe to Iva Pocock the lightning bolt of childhood cancer.
When Caoimhe Milner was born in August 2000 her mother, Eibhlín, noticed something amiss with her firstborn, Cathal, then aged three. He just wasn't himself (he was cross-tempered, white and losing weight) and over the next nine months his health deteriorated, while baby Caoimhe grew.
Eibhlín and her husband, Annraoi, took Cathal to 10 different doctors but it was only in June 2001, when he collapsed on a visit to the zoo, that they finally got an accurate diagnosis - he had a kidney tumour known as a Wilm's tumour.
The news heralded huge change for the Milners, both in their daily life and in their attitude to life. "Once your child gets a diagnosis of cancer, then the treatment of that cancer is your life," says Eibhlín. "You have no other life."
Cathal's tumour had reached stage four, so he had to undergo surgery to have the kidney removed, followed by radiotherapy and chemotherapy. "It was horrific really. It was just a nightmare," says Annraoi, whose confidence in medics was shaken by Cathal's late diagnosis, although thereafter, he stresses, the medical team at Our Lady's Hospital, Crumlin "did the best possible and left no stone unturned".
In March 2002, more cancer cells were diagnosed on Cathal's lungs. "The last option was to surgically remove part of the lung and diaphragm and to give him a stem cell transplant," remembers Annraoi. "It was horrendous. There was constant worry and stress."
Cathal spent the bulk of his time in hospital in St John's ward, Crumlin. "We lived life on that ward," says Eibhlín. "We had our 'coffee mornings' in the parents' kitchen for five minutes; we had our 'nights out' eating a Chinese take away in the parents' sitting room."
The team there gave 100 per cent to save Cathal's life, for which they are very grateful, says Eibhlín.
Cathal was also cared for at home. Fortunately, the Milners had not yet moved nearer to Annraoi's workplace, to Nenagh, Co Tipperary, where they now live (including their third child, Áine), and were still living in Ballinteer, Co Dublin - just a short drive from the hospital.
But home life was drastically different to before, says Eibhlín. "Our home was always full of friends and callers, a hive of activity but throughout Cathal's illness we had to limit the number and length of time people visited. He was simply too ill to endure too much activity around him."
Everyday trips to the bank or post office also depended on Cathal's level of energy and wellbeing. The regime of chemotherapy and post-transplant care was "very, very demanding because you literally eat, breath and sleep his treatment", says Eibhlín. "You were changing sheets and pyjamas throughout the nights of vomiting and diarrhoea, and putting on the NG [naso-gastral] machine. There was also hospital admittance at all hours of the day and night.
"You become a mini-trained nurse. You have a parent educator teaching you how to clean his lines and you know the names of all the chemicals," she explains.
A teacher by profession, she had been working in the home before Cathal's illness, but then Annraoi also started working less.
"July 19th, 2002 was the surgery and transplant and I said I'm going home and I don't know when I'll be back," he remembers. "In fact, I didn't come back until November."
The absence from work took its toll, but the Milners say they got tremendous help from friends, both financially and spiritually. "We'd come home and dinner would be in the fridge. We had a list of 30 people we could ring at any time. We had another list of people who were praying. A lot centred around Scoil Naithí in Ballinteer, the whole community really which astounded me," says Eibhlín. Friends and family were kept updated with Cathal's progress by email.
Both of them say their religious faith is unchanged by the experience. "I don't know how you'd face it without prayer," says Annraoi. The horror of a seriously sick child also takes its toll on family relations - all four of them were never in the car together during the years of Cathal's illness.
"It either draws you together or draws you apart," says Eibhlín. "It definitely drew myself and Annraoi much closer to each other." The experience also transformed Eibhlín herself, she says. "I'm more assertive now as a parent. I'm much more easy-going as well."
She is certain Cathal's illness affected Caoimhe's personality ("she's very strong and determined"), as he was ill for the first three years of her life. "Cathal was always the one who got the food he wanted and people will always ask how Cathal is."
Cathal's years of illness have left him "probably less physical than other kids", says his dad. "He was ill at three and is now only healthy at age seven so he wasn't in the rough and tumble." However, Cathal himself thinks he is now "faster at running. I can do more things like jumping on the trampoline. I wouldn't be bouncing as high as I would be now."
Throughout his illness TV became a huge part of his life (contrary to the Milners' original parenting philosophy) in providing an escape from his world of illness, so when recovered, weaning him off it was a difficult task, say his parents. He also had to adjust to not having everything done for him. "He had been mollycoddled and had nurses swarming around him so he wouldn't be that inclined to do little jobs but that's changed now," says Annraoi.
Cathal's gift with language (both Irish and English) shone through his illness with many memorable incidents, say his parents. He had medical terminology at his finger tips: one time he told a nurse she had "perfectly executed" a particular procedure; he once consoled his distraught Dad by reassuring him that "vomiting isn't such a bad thing, it's just work", and therefore just something you had to get on with.
Now Cathal loves Greek mythology (Venus is his favourite Goddess, "probably because she is the Goddess of Beauty"); pink is his favourite colour and he wants to be a botanist when he grows up, although he also likes insects, especially spiders.
Eibhlín and Annraoi are not glad their son suffered so horrendously at such a young age but "it's a real bolt of lightening" says Eibhlín. "I know it's a cliché but it's good to know life's not a rehearsal. Our perspective on life changed definitely to probably a healthier understanding of the important things and to realising that you need to enjoy the good moments of each day."