He said we didn't have time to wait for an ambulance, we had to drive him to the hospital, under normal circumstances a twenty minute drive (fortunately there were no police on the road this morning).

During the trip down the mountain I kept willing Thomas to live frantically rubbing him in an effort to warm him. His breathing was becoming more labored and I was mentally going through the steps of mouth to mouth so I could start breathing for him if he stopped.

Finally we arrived at the hospital, fortunately our doctor had rung the hospital to let them know we were coming as when we arrived the young doctor without even lifting his head told us to take a seat "I'll be with you in a minute" I told him we didn't have a minute, that in a minute my baby could be dead.

We were then rushed straight in and people came from everywhere frantically trying to save our little son's life.

After the initial details had been taken we were asked to wait in another room. After about an hour someone came in and told us they thought they had found the cause, Hemophillus Influenzae type B, commonly known as HIB.

I then spent the worst day of my life waiting in the room next to my youngest child, not knowing if he would live and feeling totally helpless as I wasn't allowed in to see him. The doctors were trying to stabilize him for transfer to hospital at Westmead. Finally it was decided that he would not survive the trip by road and he was put on life support and airlifted to Westmead.

When we arrived at the hospital we were greeted by a social worker, this did nothing to lessen the worry of either myself or my husband. She offered us tea or coffee while we waited for a doctor to tell us what was happening. The doctor came in, he told us tests had confirmed Thomas did have HIB and that his chance of survival was very slim.

They had done everything they could and it was now up to Thomas.

What a big ask that was of such a little person.

This was when Thomas showed us what a tough determined little person he was. Thomas was not going to give in to some little bug, he hung on to life with a tenacity and determination he was to show constantly over the next few years.

After 11 long days Thomas was finally taken off life support, he was alive.

For the first time in almost two weeks I was able to hold my baby, I can't describe how I felt when I first lifted him into my arms.

The next day he was moved out of intensive care. We were warned not to get our hopes up as even though his life was no longer in danger no one could tell us the extent of damage, if any that his brain had suffered, we had to play another waiting game while they ran tests. Thomas' brain had suffered a loss of oxygen and he had constant seizures during the first week of his illness.

Finally 20 days after he first became ill the results of most of the test were available, Thomas had sustained severe injury to all areas of his brain.

I was told my baby would probably never progress any further than he was at that stage, he could not even hold his own head up, his feeding was poor and he seemed totally unaware of everything going on around him. The doctor told me his memory was gone, his personality wiped, the area governing movement was severely damaged, and then he walked out of the room.

That night, for the first time in almost three weeks I cried.