Born on March 2nd, 1995.

This is a story about my granddaughter, Krysta.  Her mom, Vicky, and her Dad, Archie, went out for lunch one day as they have done so many times before to one of their favourite restaurants. Krysta ate part of her hamburger and some fries, and several days later was in Pediatric Intensive Care at Royal University Hospital.
 

She had contracted E-Coli poisoning. It wasn't long before the wastes from the E-Coli produced a serious situation. Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome (HUS) developed in her tiny body. This toxic condition causes the body of the victim to seep, or bleed internally. This bleeding eventually causes organ failure...
 

First her kidneys ceased to function, which meant that she had to be put on dialysis. There wasn't a machine small enough for her here, so one had to come from Toronto. Eventually her pancreas quit, necessitating insulin injections into to one of her many I.V.'s. She was receiving whole blood, packed cells, and fluids just to keep her alive. Many have asked why they couldn't use anti-biotics to combat the E-Coli. Well, the toxins produced and the HUS would react violently with the meds, and kill her. So she had to fight this horrible infection all by herself. A war with insurmountable odds for such a tiny person.

Her eyes were a dismal gray colour, and sunken back into her head. Her skin was pale, and her breathing laboured. The acceptance of death was a reality. In about two weeks of her hospitalization, she bled out. In other words, she had lost all of her blood into her abdomen, and was basically... without life. Through the valiant efforts of the pediatric staff at Royal U. sufficient fluids were introduced into her body and she was revived. Slowly the peritoneal dialysis began to gain footing. With several more transfusions (daily), continued dialysis, and the support of her family, both close and extended, and especially with the perseverance and love (stubbornness) of her mother (my daughter) she began to come around. This was all very hard on her family, but not the least bit as hard as it was on Krysta, Her parents didn't sleep, Her grandma almost became sick herself, from worry. Her paternal Grandparents came in from out of province to spend what time they had with her.

However, into the fourth week she was disconnected from her monitors, and was placed in a little red wagon and taken outside. It had been almost three weeks since I could bring myself to see her, and when I did, I was relieved, and successful in making her laugh.... I cried....

When she is asked about what she remembers, she will answer you, she remembers she was sick in the hospital because of a bad hamburger, she remembers being poked and tubes, being unhappy. Pretty much everything... She even remembers the night she bled out and was for all intents and purposes, dead. But she remembers it differently... From what I can understand, Krysta talked about being warm, happy, and in a room with bright lights, a small man took her by the hand, told her she wasn't to be there he then led her from the room and put her back in her bed. We find out as we ask her more questions, the man was her great-grandfather who had passed away after a long illness just 8 months before. This comes from a three year old girl...