Some sad news to share

John Fiadjoe MD

Today we share our condolences with a member of our pediatric anesthesiology family Ethan Lance Sanford, a pediatric anesthesiologist at UT Southwestern Medical Center. The loss of a child is unimaginable and leaves a permanent void in the hearts of many families. Although many of us take care of critically ill children, few of us have engaged with families during times of loss of their child, and fewer still have experienced the void and heartbreak of losing one's child. We invited Ethan to share some perspectives during this difficult time. We share our condolences and encourage your support as Ethan and his family deal with this loss.

Ceci died on December 5th at 14 months old. She was my daughter and her death felt like the destruction of my identity. Holding her body in the emergency department, the sense of failure was overwhelming. As a pediatric critical care physician and anesthesiologist, I pride myself on being equipped to manage any situation. I couldn’t manage this.

Ceci was diagnosed with a mass encompassing her right L3-S1 nerve roots when she was 12 months old. After a failed attempt at percutaneous biopsy, she underwent open surgery. This revealed no true mass, but disorganized and grossly dilated tissue surrounding abnormal nerves. Biopsies were sent to experts across the country with no clear diagnosis. Left to anxiously contemplate the next steps, we watched as Ceci’s leg function declined. We spent months considering how to care for a disabled toddler and what horrible evolution this problem may take. Then she died at home, in her sleep during a nap. We don’t know how or why.

A couple of weeks later, I write about Ceci with profound gratitude. I know this may seem strange. Rob Delaney in his excellent book about the loss of his son, Henry, writes “I genuinely believe, whether it’s true or not, that if people felt a fraction of what my family felt and still feels, they would know what this life and this world are really about…That is one thing grief does to me. It makes me want to make you understand. I want you to understand.”

I want you all to understand how grief has transformed my appreciation for the everyday good that is all around us. We spend our daily lives planning, discussing, and executing the care of children. We minimize their suffering and safely transport them through the care that will improve or save their life. What a gift you all are! How fortunate this world is to have you. How can we not have passion and drive to improve in this profession? My wife and I have experienced love, communion, shared grief, and generosity with family, friends, and strangers. When even breathing felt obscene, our own kids lifted us out of the morass. Any past feelings of being trapped by my children or unable to “do the things I want to do” were so misguided. Every silly game, every hug, every drive to practice is an enormous blessing.

Losing Ceci is so unfair and just terrible. I miss her achingly. Miss her head laying on my shoulder, giving me crumbs of food to hear my exaggerated thanks, and squealing in delight at the bunnies in our yard. I feel robbed when I consider how she would integrate into life with her sisters, overcome any disabilities caused by her tumor, and bring light to the world she shared with us. These feelings don’t cloud my appreciation for people and life. They enhance my understanding and compel me to shout to everyone who will listen to take a moment to realize and welcome the good.

I now firmly understand that I can’t control or prevent all tragedy or save every sick child. I’ll always make mistakes and slip into old mindsets. However, Ceci will be a reminder for me. I’m so grateful to have known and cared for her. Her life will make me better. She will make me a better parent, physician, and community member. I’ll grieve Ceci until I die. My sorrow and my life will honor her. Please take a moment to realize the enormous good around you and especially the ability to improve the lives of others.

An opportunity to demonstrate generosity is through donation drive we started in Ceci’s honor. All donations will be directed toward clinical research through the Children’s Medical Center Foundation. You’ll see that the goal we set has been eclipsed. Some goals are made to be beaten. Any and all you can give is enormously appreciated.

https://donorbox.org/cecilia-s-donation-drive-for-the-children-s-foundation

With Sorrow and Gratitude,

Ethan L Sanford

Ethan Sanford is a dual trained Pediatric Intensivist and Pediatric Anesthesiologist at UT Southwestern in Dallas. He received his medical degree from the Harvard-MIT Program in Health Sciences and Technology, part of Harvard Medical School. He then completed combined pediatric and anesthesiology residency at the Boston Combined Residency and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. He went on to train in pediatric anesthesiology at Boston Children’s Hospital and pediatric critical care at UT Southwestern. Ethan’s research interests include pediatric ECMO, racial disparities in pediatric critical care, patient centered outcomes in pediatric anesthesia and the development of neuro-optical tools to monitor neurologic injury.