A tribute to my son, Keagan Alberts
As a mother, it was particularly difficult
to sit by Keagan’s bedside and watch as my baby boy fought leukaemia. None of
my mothering skills could ease his physical pain. All I could do was hold him
gently, love, bath and feed him. I felt inadequate and at times when he
screamed, the comfort I tried to provide was not sufficient, and he continued
to cry until his pain subsided. Those moments were unbearable for me, as I felt
completely helpless.
During our hospital stays, I always took a
few of his favourite stuffed toys with us, and arranged them on his bed. They
provided a bit of colour, a bit of home, and even though he was too weak to
play, it seemed as though he found some comfort in staring at the stuffed
animals. My beautiful child was transformed from a ‘busy-bee’ with an unquenchable
thirst for life, to a pale, sombre being in a few short days. My bright sparkle
had vanished and a blanket of weariness encumbered him. In addition, the drip
in his arm bothered him and caused much frustration. I felt so sorry for him.
Keagan was discharged from the hospital on
Tuesday, March 20.We were happy to take him home and looked forward to bedtime,
when we could take him in our arms and hold him as always, while we slept. It
was glorious to sleep comfortably again, as I had spent the past few nights in
a chair. Hans was especially happy to have us back home, and I remember the
smile on his face when he said, “Now I don’t have to sleep alone anymore!”
During the next few days at home, Keagan
gradually regained his strength, and to my utter delight, my ‘sparkle’ was
beginning to return! In spite of this wonderful progress, I could not take him
back to school. As a precaution against further infections, we had to refrain
from being in physical contact with people. He missed his friends, his teacher
Nadine, and the sandpit where they used to play. Apart from the fact that we
had to remain at home, we could also not receive any visitors, except
grandparents.
With his white blood cell count still quite
low, his body was not able to fight any infections, and we had to take extra
care to protect him from germs. When grandparents came to visit, they had to
wear facemasks and wash their hands with Chlorhexidine (a disinfectant hand
spray or hand wash, used in hospitals). Sadly, his grandparents could not greet
Keagan with their usual kisses. Hans and I did not kiss our boy either, for
fear that we could spread potentially harmful germs. It felt immensely cruel to
display limited physical affection, and to say ‘hello’ with words and hugs only.
Keagan stared quizzically at the facemasks, and we explained that we had to
wear them as we had the flu, and did not want him to become ill too. I wonder
if he understood any of this.
I sanitised our home with disinfectant from
roof to floor each day, including all furniture and toys. A strong and pungent
smell hung in the air, and eventually our olfactory senses became accustomed.
Disinfecting our home became a daily routine and necessity. We could not allow
our pets into the house either. Keagan loved animals, especially small dogs. It
was so disheartening to explain to him that he could not play with them for a
while. As young as he was at that stage – a mere twenty-one months old – he
simply accepted these new circumstances as though they were normal, without
questioning anything.
At times Keagan’s cousins (who live next
door to us) would run and play outside in our garden. Often when he heard them,
he would want to run outside and join in the laughter and fun, calling out
“Mamma look! Stephin and Caydence!” but we were not allowed contact with
anyone. At times, when Zelvin and his brother, Enzo (also Keagan’s cousins)
knocked on our front door, and asked if they could come inside to play with
Keagan, I had to say “no”, and explain the reason why. Not quite understanding
(as they were too young), the two brothers would reluctantly leave our house,
and their excited smiles would be replaced with frowns. In these instances, I
felt like a cruel person; one who brought misery to little children, when all
they wanted to do was play and have fun. Then, with a sad look on his face, and
often tears running down his cheeks, Keagan would stand at the window and
longingly stare at his cousins playing outside...
