Big Gigantic Hearts

A tribute to the fine health care professionals who work to repair little hearts.  Written by Sylvie Stephens.

I first came to the PICU after Sydney’s open heart surgery. Sydney was in bed #13.  Jane was her nurse.  Ingrid was the CRN.  There was no need to adjust to the new surroundings.  I was always focused on my baby.  After three months in the NICU, seeing her with tubes all around her was my reality.  She was my beautiful baby, she was comfortable and sleeping.  I was relieved she made it through surgery ok.

A gentle doctor began to talk to me. He had the kindest, bluest eyes I have ever seen.  The kind that take you straight into the soul of a person.  We spoke about his practice and how Sydney’s care would be handled in the PICU.  This doctor had already met my Sydney, up in the NICU, to fix her central line.  After that procedure was over, my Syd-Syd opened her blue eyes wide.  This doctor bent down gently and said “Well, hello!”  The NI nurses told me this story and his name.  He’ll be taking care of my baby, I smiled to myself.  I was so moved by the kindness of this doctor, I would draw a big gigantic heart in the air whenever I spoke about him to the PI nurses.  This doctor was the “Originator of big gigantic hearts.”

Sylvie's sweet angel, Sydney

Then there was “Be still, my heart.” This doctor knew Sydney before she was born.  He took time to explain what he saw on the ultrasound and patiently drew anatomical diagrams to describe her condition. This doctor always had hope in his eyes, patted my shoulder gently when we spoke and he wanted to save her.  He wanted to save her for me.

Then there was “Be still, Sydney’s heart.” This doctor was Sydney’s favorite!  Fuss monkey?  Not around this guy.  There was always a smile, even if only in her eyes, for this man.  Rumors of Sydney’s flirtations circled around the NI.  I would see it with my own eyes in the PI and was horrified.  “Syd-Syd, he is a married man,” I would lecture my daughter.  But she would do, as always, whatever she wanted.

Then, there is “Three gigantic hearts,” a doctor so special, so brilliant, so poetic. We met in NI when Sydney was about a month old.  He took time to decipher her pathology, to evaluate her as a whole system, to try to connect the pieces that didn’t quite fit.  He appreciated Sydney was remarkable.  He saw beauty where there was complexity, hope beyond the medical realm, and gave me advice and encouragement to be the best mother I could be.

There were many gigantic hearts. I survive Sydney’s physical absence with the memory of them.  Sydney’s doctors, nurses, RTs, support staff… acts of kindness, fascinating medical skill, faith in the unexpected and grace always.   Her loss is painful, but the love I received in this setting is unforgettable.

It was intensive care for Sydney, for her heart and for me, for my heart.

Much love, Sylvie Stephens, Sydney’s Mom

Tags: heart surgery, Sylvie Stephens