The Melbourne Cup is ‘the race that stops a nation’ but in 2004, when I was just 9 years old, it stopped me.
At some point during the day, I had a seizure and everything was blank.
I remember waking up dazed and confused, looking up at the ceiling with my dad asking me bizarre questions about my beloved Kangaroos.
‘Who wears number 29?’ he was asking me, knowing my idol was Brent Harvey – someone I’ve always related to because of my small stature.
I should have immediately replied ‘Brent “Boomer” Harvey’, but I didn’t. Something was terribly wrong.
Everything seemed liked a blur and I was lost in an unfamiliar world with my parents looking in helplessly from the outside. Their little girl was just lying there, unresponsive.
I was examined at the Maroondah Hospital before being transferred to the Royal Children's; a place that performs miracles for people like me every day.
A painful needle was pierced into the skin on my hand and I was immediately sent in for an MRI scan. It was soon after that me and my parents began living a nightmare. I had a brain tumour the size of a golf ball growing in my brain.
Mum and Dad were at a loss. Truly shattered and devastated that their little “bubs” may develop a permanent speech impediment, have other intellectual disabilities or even lose the battle with the disease.
All the while, I was oblivious - fast asleep in my own little dream.
The situation was rapidly changing and the focus quickly turned to the removal of the tumour. I was in amazing hands as my specialist, Virginia Maximer, had recently performed successful surgery to separate conjoined twins Trishna and Krishna.
I remember the faint smell of chocolate that permeated through the gas mask as I was sent off to sleep before my operation. As scared as I was, this sweet scent made the experience that little more bearable.
After a marathon 13-hour procedure, I was recovering, minus the evil little intruder. In the days following, we received good news; they had managed to remove the entire tumour – everything appeared like it would go back to normal.
Struggling to walk and feeling light headed, I eventually regained my strength and was allowed out of hospital just in time to celebrate my 10th birthday with family and friends. It was an emotional day given what we’d all just been through.
The years went by and I thought I had overcome my greatest challenge but my war was not over yet. Routine check-ups and MRIs detected another spot on my brain – the tumour was back – albeit tiny in comparison to the first one.
It was 2013 and I was in the middle of VCE when it was decided I’d need another operation at the end of the year. I couldn’t stop crying. Endless tears were rolling down my face as I grappled to come to terms with the news. I tried my best to stay positive and kept telling myself this procedure would allow me to fulfil all my life’s dreams and ambitions, that this would be the last time I’d have to deal with it.
But I was so scared.
The neurosurgeons were unsure what the tumour was and why it had returned. They said it could be scar tissue or a part of the old tumour that had been left behind.
In March this year, I had a 2-hour procedure and the ‘speck’ was removed.
My family and I shared a familiar outpouring of emotion and were overcome with relief. Surely this was the knockout blow.
On April 1, not long after my second bout of brain surgery, I was resting in bed when my phone rang. The number wasn’t one that I recognised, nor was the voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello who's this?" I asked immediately.
“It’s Boomer Harvey from North Melbourne,” the male voice replied.
Did I mention it was April Fool’s Day? I simply didn’t believe it was him and dismissed the call as an elaborate prank. After all, why would my hero be calling me? I thought it was a family member of friend trying to get the better of me.
After a quick chat with Boomer’s impersonator I hung up feeling clever that I didn’t fall for the trick. However something wasn’t quite right and I decided to do some digging and rang the club just to be sure.
Minutes into a conversation with a North staff member and my heart sank – it was actually Boomer that called.
The club knew about my story and Boomer called to see if I was okay.
To this day, I am still bewildered and amazed by this act of kindness and loyalty. I felt absolutely privileged and honoured that my Kangaroos cared enough about me to call.
I was invited to the club for Harvey’s Heroes day and I finally got to meet Boomer. It was a dream come true and it helped me end days of agony and brought some happiness into my life once again. I have supported North since early childhood and have been a member for 11-years. They really meant it when they say, ‘We will rise together’.
Brent Harvey and the number 29 changed my life a long time ago and ten years on, just like he’s doing on the field, he’s done it again.
Lucky number 29
Effie Caloutas' amazing story.