- By Kim Zarzour
- Jun 06, 2011 - 11:20 AM
Boy’s spirit inspires room in pediatric ward
Fundraiser for Zack. Zack Hamilton at his favourite place, Lionel’s Farm, that will host a special event June 25 in memory of the young boy and to fundraise for hospital comforts for parents.
Whenever little Zackie Hamilton developed the hacking cough and spiking fever, his mother knew just what to do. She had it down to a routine.
First, Heather Hamilton would pack the tote bags with her essentials and his: cuddly clothes for Zack, skin creams that would bring familiar smells and his usual toddler comforters, flip flops for her so she wouldn’t have to tromp around the hospital for days in her boots, her contact lenses, toothbrushes, body spray, a journal to write in, books, magazines and her laptop.
Then she’d fill a grocery bag with Zack’s favourite toys. Next came the cooler bag with ice pack for his medications.
All this she could do in 10 minutes or less before zipping down Bathurst Street to York Central Hospital.
That’s what happens when you’re bound for hospital four times a winter for the first three years of your son’s life.
Sometimes she wished she’d never have to pack another bag for hospital again.
Now, she says, she’d give anything to pack, give anything “to stay in a crappy bed with beeping machines all night” if only it meant more time with him.
Zack passed away March 10 at the age of three-and-a-half, but his spirit lives on in the pediatric floor in the hospital where he spent so many of his days. Soon, Zack’s name will live on in a more tangible way.
The Hamilton family is planning to create a special place for families when sickness or injury brings them to the Richmond Hill hospital.
Zack’s Dream Room will be a cozy spot in the pediatric unit, a room with the comforts of home for mom or dad and the familiarity of Sesame Street’s Elmo, Zack’s favourite, for young patients.
“Nothing could mean more to us than to give back to the place that cared so much for Zack and myself during those stays in hospital,” Ms Hamilton says.
The Richmond Hill mom became a bit of a reluctant expert in hospital stays, something she never expected when she gave birth to Zack and his twin brother Jayden on Sept. 21, 2007.
As he tumbled out into the world on the heels of his slightly older twin, his parents noticed he looked a little different. His eyes were abnormal, his ears slightly slanted, fists clenched tight and body covered in bruises. Within half an hour after birth, doctors had assessed he had a heart defect and he was whisked away for special care.
They eventually learned Zack had been born with a genetic disorder causing serious health and developmental issues including a congenital heart defect and blocked pulmonary vein, seizures, global developmental delay, facial anomalies, hydrocephalus (fluid and a cyst in his brain), low muscle tone, reflux, bilateral moderate to severe hearing loss and an inability to drink liquids.
They were told their son would likely not walk, might not talk, might not ever eat without feeding tubes. They were told he might never survive.
Zack’s life became one hurdle, and miracle, after the next as he fought to maintain his precarious hold on life, but when he got his G-tube, a medical device used to provide nutrition, he seemed to turn the corner.
Suddenly his eyes lit with energy, he was mobile, alert, and last November he learned to walk.
All day long he toddled back and forth through the house, humming, babbling and giggling, climbing on furniture, pulling books off shelves, playing his drums and raiding the Fruit Loops box in the kitchen cupboard.
Sure, he was sick a lot and spent much of every winter on antibiotics in York Central’s pediatric unit, (the staff in the Pediatric Urgent Care Clinic loved visiting their favorite “frequent flyer”), but in between, times were good.
He even managed, one day, to feed himself “real” food — a cheesie. Heather remembers sitting on the kitchen floor with him, watching him bring the orange crumbliness to his mouth and the tears pouring down her face in gratitude.
Last summer, she watched him turn into a “real big boy” at Lionel’s Farm in Stouffville, climbing out of his stroller to stand on his own, gripping the wire fence as he pet the animals alongside his brothers. The family returned to the farm weekly after that, celebrating Zack’s growing independence with photographs and smiles.
However, pneumonia and flu brought Zack to the hospital again in March, where he died of lack of oxygen to the brain during cardiac arrest.
Lionel’s Farm provided the horse-and-buggy hearse to carry Zack’s body to his final resting place. The farm will also be the venue this month for a big fundraising event to help raise money in his name for York Central Hospital.
“The farm was such an important part of their family and his life, as short as it was,” says manager Blair Purcell who has donated the facility for the day.
“When you’ve given pleasure to someone it can be so gratifying and meaningful. It is humbling and you want to help back.”
Zack’s Family Dream Day, set for Saturday, June 25, was to be the major fundraiser for the Hamiltons’ drive to make a comfortable home-away-from-home for families at York Central, but within two months of setting up the charity they’d already met their $25,000 goal. Now, they’re aiming higher, hoping to renovate several rooms on the fifth floor as well.
There will be sleeper chairs for parents, a coffee maker, CDs and DVDs, child’s potty and an arts and crafts table with colouring books and puzzles, comfy footware for parents, snacks, books and magazines — the kinds of things most parents, frantically rushing out the door with a sick child, forget to pack.
The rooms will be redecorated and equipped with new cribs less “clattery and scary” than the current metal ones, she says.
She also hopes to organize volunteer meal-tray delivery to worried parents “because it’s a long way from the fifth floor to the cafeteria and you really don’t want to leave your child alone”.
These are all lessons her time with Zack taught her. But Heather Hamilton says her son taught her much more in his short life. With all the medical turmoil and bad news doctors heaped on him, Zack never let his troubles become who he was.
“He was a happy, happy kid in spite of everything. He showed me obstacles don’t have to be a way of life. When tragedy strikes, you can move on.”
Each new challenge was a stepping stone for Zack and until the last moment he was fighting. “That was the big lesson to me. You don’t have to live in those bad moments. You can focus on today and it can be beautiful.”
First, Heather Hamilton would pack the tote bags with her essentials and his: cuddly clothes for Zack, skin creams that would bring familiar smells and his usual toddler comforters, flip flops for her so she wouldn’t have to tromp around the hospital for days in her boots, her contact lenses, toothbrushes, body spray, a journal to write in, books, magazines and her laptop.
Then she’d fill a grocery bag with Zack’s favourite toys. Next came the cooler bag with ice pack for his medications.
All this she could do in 10 minutes or less before zipping down Bathurst Street to York Central Hospital.
That’s what happens when you’re bound for hospital four times a winter for the first three years of your son’s life.
Sometimes she wished she’d never have to pack another bag for hospital again.
Now, she says, she’d give anything to pack, give anything “to stay in a crappy bed with beeping machines all night” if only it meant more time with him.
Zack passed away March 10 at the age of three-and-a-half, but his spirit lives on in the pediatric floor in the hospital where he spent so many of his days. Soon, Zack’s name will live on in a more tangible way.
The Hamilton family is planning to create a special place for families when sickness or injury brings them to the Richmond Hill hospital.
Zack’s Dream Room will be a cozy spot in the pediatric unit, a room with the comforts of home for mom or dad and the familiarity of Sesame Street’s Elmo, Zack’s favourite, for young patients.
“Nothing could mean more to us than to give back to the place that cared so much for Zack and myself during those stays in hospital,” Ms Hamilton says.
The Richmond Hill mom became a bit of a reluctant expert in hospital stays, something she never expected when she gave birth to Zack and his twin brother Jayden on Sept. 21, 2007.
As he tumbled out into the world on the heels of his slightly older twin, his parents noticed he looked a little different. His eyes were abnormal, his ears slightly slanted, fists clenched tight and body covered in bruises. Within half an hour after birth, doctors had assessed he had a heart defect and he was whisked away for special care.
They eventually learned Zack had been born with a genetic disorder causing serious health and developmental issues including a congenital heart defect and blocked pulmonary vein, seizures, global developmental delay, facial anomalies, hydrocephalus (fluid and a cyst in his brain), low muscle tone, reflux, bilateral moderate to severe hearing loss and an inability to drink liquids.
They were told their son would likely not walk, might not talk, might not ever eat without feeding tubes. They were told he might never survive.
Zack’s life became one hurdle, and miracle, after the next as he fought to maintain his precarious hold on life, but when he got his G-tube, a medical device used to provide nutrition, he seemed to turn the corner.
Suddenly his eyes lit with energy, he was mobile, alert, and last November he learned to walk.
All day long he toddled back and forth through the house, humming, babbling and giggling, climbing on furniture, pulling books off shelves, playing his drums and raiding the Fruit Loops box in the kitchen cupboard.
Sure, he was sick a lot and spent much of every winter on antibiotics in York Central’s pediatric unit, (the staff in the Pediatric Urgent Care Clinic loved visiting their favorite “frequent flyer”), but in between, times were good.
He even managed, one day, to feed himself “real” food — a cheesie. Heather remembers sitting on the kitchen floor with him, watching him bring the orange crumbliness to his mouth and the tears pouring down her face in gratitude.
Last summer, she watched him turn into a “real big boy” at Lionel’s Farm in Stouffville, climbing out of his stroller to stand on his own, gripping the wire fence as he pet the animals alongside his brothers. The family returned to the farm weekly after that, celebrating Zack’s growing independence with photographs and smiles.
However, pneumonia and flu brought Zack to the hospital again in March, where he died of lack of oxygen to the brain during cardiac arrest.
Lionel’s Farm provided the horse-and-buggy hearse to carry Zack’s body to his final resting place. The farm will also be the venue this month for a big fundraising event to help raise money in his name for York Central Hospital.
“The farm was such an important part of their family and his life, as short as it was,” says manager Blair Purcell who has donated the facility for the day.
“When you’ve given pleasure to someone it can be so gratifying and meaningful. It is humbling and you want to help back.”
Zack’s Family Dream Day, set for Saturday, June 25, was to be the major fundraiser for the Hamiltons’ drive to make a comfortable home-away-from-home for families at York Central, but within two months of setting up the charity they’d already met their $25,000 goal. Now, they’re aiming higher, hoping to renovate several rooms on the fifth floor as well.
There will be sleeper chairs for parents, a coffee maker, CDs and DVDs, child’s potty and an arts and crafts table with colouring books and puzzles, comfy footware for parents, snacks, books and magazines — the kinds of things most parents, frantically rushing out the door with a sick child, forget to pack.
The rooms will be redecorated and equipped with new cribs less “clattery and scary” than the current metal ones, she says.
She also hopes to organize volunteer meal-tray delivery to worried parents “because it’s a long way from the fifth floor to the cafeteria and you really don’t want to leave your child alone”.
These are all lessons her time with Zack taught her. But Heather Hamilton says her son taught her much more in his short life. With all the medical turmoil and bad news doctors heaped on him, Zack never let his troubles become who he was.
“He was a happy, happy kid in spite of everything. He showed me obstacles don’t have to be a way of life. When tragedy strikes, you can move on.”
Each new challenge was a stepping stone for Zack and until the last moment he was fighting. “That was the big lesson to me. You don’t have to live in those bad moments. You can focus on today and it can be beautiful.”
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