Walk All Night Long

Wednesday 23rd Sep Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking about my younger sister Wendy’s accident. Taytum is 5 now, and I couldn't stop reflecting on the fact that Wendy was the exact same age when it happened. Thinking about myself in my Mum’s shoes back then, I honestly couldn't believe the immense strength it would have taken to get through those nights. And then today, out of nowhere, the Ronald McDonald House All Night Long walk popped up on my feed. The All Night Long walk takes place overnight for a reason. It’s designed to symbolically mirror what parents experience when their child is in emergency or intensive care.. staying awake through the scariest hours of the night, completely exhausted, but continuing to push forward because you have no other choice. When Wendy was five & in prep, she fell at school, hitting her head on concrete. I still remember the events of that afternoon, ending up sitting in Nambour Hospital, watching the clock while the doctors waited to see if she’d keep an anti-nausea tablet down since she’d been vomiting all afternoon. Just minutes before the hour was up, she was sick. I suppose now we should be grateful for that.. From there everything seemed to rapidly change. What came after that I don’t recall, us older kids went home. I vividly remember later waking to the panic of my dad’s voice as he shouted for my older sister to help pack a bag. By the early hours of the morning, Wendy was being rushed down to Brisbane Royal Children’s Hospital with several brain bleeds and or blood clots. Mum said the surgeon met her right at the ambulance bay and told her they needed to operate immediately or she may not wake up. I was a young teenager at the time. I didn't fully grasp the terrifying severity of what was happening, I just knew Mum and Wendy were being rushed away. I wanted to make her feel better, so when I could, I got my closest friends to sign a card for her to take to the hospital. I remember stepping out of the car with my dad and feeling a wave of nausea hit me before we even walked inside. Once she was out of surgery and recovering I remember sitting by her bed, playing games and puzzles with her. When she smiled, she still looked so sad because her sweet little face was so swollen from surgery. Those images sit permanently in my mind. But what stays with me most as an adult was the look on my mum’s face. She had this blank, distant expression.. like her soul had left her body just to survive the terror of what was happening to her baby. Back then, I was just a big sister doing puzzles. But now? Now I’m a mum.. I’ve sat in hospital rooms with Rhyder and Taytum over the years for minor things, and even then, that cold, helpless numbness takes over. You feel completely out of your body, terrified, praying with everything you have that your child will be okay. Trying to hold it all together. To think of my mum reading surgery forms, waiting outside an operating theatre, not knowing if her five year old girl was going to make it... it breaks my heart in a way only a parent understands. This wasn’t a routine procedure.. it was a high-risk, life altering surgery where everything hung in the balance. So when this walk appeared today, I felt I had to sign up. The best thing about it? Wendy and I are walking TOGETHER! 21-42KM! We will walk for the mums and dads who are living out of hospital chairs, exhausted and terrified, while trying to figure out how to pay their mortgage or rent, keep their home running, care for their other kids, and stay by their child’s bedside. We will walk for the hospital staff; The surgeons, doctors, nurses, and for the people like the social worker who sat with our mum to help her wrap her head around it all, organising a room, food, and parking so Dad could be there. And we will walk for the children whose lives may never be the same, the ones who may never get to leave those hospitals 4 walls. We will walk so Ronald McDonald House can hold those families close, feed them, give them a bed, and take away just a little bit of the weight when their world is falling apart. Share