Child Survives Life-threatening Internal Decapitation

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

A harrowing car accident, a long wait in two emergency rooms and endless medical tests to find out exactly how a 7-year-old boy is injured seems far too much for any family to endure.

Now add to that the shock and outright horror of knowing the official diagnosis from doctors at the University of Mississippi Medical Center is occipitocervical dislocation, also known as internal decapitation.

Yes, “decapitation,” the unenviable fate of Anne Boleyn and teenagers in horror flicks. This is what Cameron Smyly of Hollandale and his family faced after the vehicle’s other occupants, mother Nichole, big brother Carson and little sister Lexi, were given clean bills of health.
Cameron’s injuries were far more serious. As Nichole put it, “just the name is enough to send chills down your spine.”

But Cameron’s outcome takes away some of the dreadful nuances associated with the word “decapitation.” Rarely are the words “decapitation” and “miracle” used in the same breath, but Cameron’s story proves the exception to the rule.

His story is about the miracle of survival, recovery and the tremendous strength that has gotten this family through some trying times.

Throughout the first few weeks, functioning “completely in shock,” Nichole and Doug, Cameron’s father, stayed by Cameron’s side nonstop as he lay partially paralyzed and heavily sedated in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) at the Medical Center’s Blair E. Batson Hospital for Children.

They watched through sleep-deprived eyes as their youngest son underwent two surgeries. The first, to remove a piece of glass lodged three inches into his neck, was considered the minor surgery.

Nichole recalled learning that if the glass had been centimeters to the left or right, it would have caused irreversible damage.

The second surgery, considered the major one, was to stabilize Cameron’s head and spinal column. Dr. Louis Harkey, chairman of neurosurgery, performed this surgery using a metal device to connect Cameron’s skull to his first and second vertebrae.

Harkey, an expert on abnormalities of the cranio-vertebral junction, says candidly that he doesn’t see this particular type of injury often because it is “usually fatal.” Harkey and some of his colleagues designed, developed and patented the device he used in Cameron’s surgery.

Cameron made it through the second surgery, much to the relief of his weary family.

“Those were easily the most painful hours of our lives,” Nichole said. “There is absolutely no fear like the fear of losing your child.”

In the beginning, Cameron had trouble swallowing and thus needed a feeding tube, the prospect of which did not sit well with his parents, who silently wondered how much more he, and they, could handle. Other lingering effects included double vision, problems with his speech and navigating the daily life of a 7-year-old wearing a cumbersome neck brace.

But the Smylys aren’t complaining. They are keenly aware and unbelievably thankful for this miraculous life, albeit altered in some way.

“We just have to thank God for the miracles we’ve been blessed with and try not to dwell on what might have been or what dangers the future could hold,” says Nichole.

So they now focus on what Nichole calls “cherished moments … moments that Doug and I both silently stop and thank God we were allowed to have.” These moments include small victories, like the day Cameron “was finally able to ride his bicycle again with such pure and unquestionable joy on his face.”

All these months later, with his first bike ride and hunting trip under his belt, the family’s altered life goes on. The feeding tube is gone, as is the neck brace.

Quiet at first, Cameron warms quickly and despite the hint of a lisp, the words come tumbling out. Perhaps because of his extraordinary story, but more likely, despite of it, the true miracle is how ordinary a 7-year-old boy Cameron really is.

Tune in to the Children’s Miracle Network Celebration on WJTV – News Channel 12 from 8-10 p.m. on Saturday, May 31, and from 11:30 a.m.-5 p.m. on Sunday, June 1, to get an update on Cameron’s progress and to learn about other patients at the Blair E. Batson Hospital for Children.

- Jen Hospodo