Talking Point

with Simon Thomsen

A love unlike any other

Dianne, Terry and Chloe Cutts, aged 3, of Perth. Chloe, who has bone cancer, came to Sydney last month for a pioneering operation that replaced her left arm bone with an expandable prosthesis.

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

- ee cummings

The Chinese can make a single word mean five different things simply by changing the inflection. Three weeks ago, I met someone who speaks only one word with a myriad of meanings. His cry mostly means 'I'm hungry', but after sating that obvious desire, I'm left guessing whether it means 'I'm tired', 'I'm bored' or perhaps 'I've pooed my pants and I'm expecting you do to something about it'.

He's my son and as a writer fascinated with the filigree of language, understanding those meanings has become my greatest challenge. I've never felt more helpless, nor ignorant.

At one minute to midnight on February 17, my partner Sally and I followed in the footsteps of billions to become parents. This common thread nonetheless comes in different hues for everyone: our experience remains utterly unique. It's a feeling not everyone is blessed by - whether by choice or the cruelties of biology - but for now, so overwhelmed by the emotions and this unexpected wellspring of love for the most tender and vulnerable thing I have ever seen, I have an evangelical fervour for parenthood akin to a born again.

And amidst the glowing pleasure of parenthood also comes the chill that I am now more open and vulnerable in ways I never knew possible. We've cried inexplicable tears, many of them happy, but some in knowing the dangers that lie ahead.

Suddenly, I can understand why despots and dictators who fail to bend their opponents would turn instead on their families; the Achilles heel of love.

And I can comprehend why desperate parents would risk everything to give their children a new life in another country - even if I can't understand why the government of our nation treats them with such contempt and labels these families 'queue jumpers'.

But this is not about the big picture, although I now have a newfound optimism for the planet. This is about home and what I can do for my family. In some ways it's selfish, but there are also moments and actions that spur you on to help others in the process.

Archie Boyd Thomsen was born in the Royal Women's Hospital in Sydney. He was just a day old when he made his first visit to a café. In the hospital lobby over a cappuccino, he met a brave and remarkable young girl and her wonderful family. Three-and-a-half-year-old Chloe Cutts has bone cancer. A brilliant Sydney doctor has removed the bone in her left arm and replaced it with an expandable prosthesis that will be lengthened as Chloe grows, without the need for regular operations. Her parents, Dianne and Terry, are from Perth and tracked down Dr Ian Woodgate, who pioneered a similar operation on a young boy's leg last year.

Chloe had left her sister and brother, Holly and Cooper, behind in Perth, but is now back home to finish her chemotherapy. Doctors expect she'll make a full recovery.

It's a remarkable story and a lesson in the power of love. Dianne and Terry are inspirational parents and in the brief time we chatted over coffee, their positive approach to life and family was extraordinarily uplifting and gave us hope in our new role.

Which brings me to home.

Our Kids, the Northern Rivers Children Health Fund, was set up a few years ago to improve health services for local children in the Northern Rivers. Our Kids raises funds to buy specialised, life-saving medical equipment so babies and children can be treated locally.

Without this equipment they have to be sent to Brisbane or Sydney, which places emotional and financial strain on both the children and their families.

Around one-third of the babies born locally go to the Special Care Nursery at Lismore Base Hospital for help with their new lives. Children's Ward deals with more than 2000 children a year, and the Accident and Emergency department offers smiles and reassurance to worried parents, and the best medical care to around 10,000 children every 12 months.

In 2004, thanks to the generous support of the community and local businesses, Our Kids raised $167,000. Their current project is to buy four new humidicribs for the Special Care Nursery, costing $20,000 each. They also have a long-term ambition to build accommodation for the families of children being treated at the hospital, especially with a new radiotherapy oncology unit set to open in the next few years.

To do it, they need your support.

We have been blessed by a healthy child thus far. I've also seen the extraordinary difference good medical support can make to a young child's life and I want that for every kid, not just mine.

Contact Our Kids with a donation by writing to PO Box 419, Lismore, 2480; phone 6620 2705; email ourkids@nrahs.nsw.gov.au or visit the website at www.ourkids.org.au.

There are many ways to say 'I love you'. Not just to your family, but to the world. This is one of the best.