Reece had been in and out of hospital over a period of four weeks, but the hospital weren't sure what was wrong with him. They had gone from a mild viral complaint to possible epilepsy.
My ex rang me on Friday the 5th of November that Reece was ill again and the doctor had insisted he go to hospital. When I arrived it was obvious Reece was extremely ill this time. The doctors were still adamant that he had some sort of virus, but did not feel it necessary to give him anything to ease his obvious pain and discomfort. It was only after repeated requests from me and Reece's mum that we were given a syringe of Calpol for us to give to Reece orally.
I stayed with Reece through the night and by early morning I demanded that someone looked more closely at Reece. Within a few minutes he had been rushed to a side room and was ventilated and then told that a retrieval team from Guys were on their way so specialists could help him.
By lunchtime a consultant from Guys sat me and Reece's mum down and said that he was a very ill little boy and that he had to go immediately. Following that ambulance into London was the worst drive I have ever had. By the time I got onto the ward, I was told that Reece had passed away.
It will be five years this November that Reece died but those last 24 hours with Reece will stay with me forever. Holding my son in my arms as his life support was switched off both hurts and comforts me. But I will always feel I let my son down.