The gift of a life reborn

Paul and Traci Danna don't give the possibility of miracles a second thought. They witnessed one with their daughter's liver transplant.

By James B. Meadow, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Published April 7, 2008 at 12:05 a.m.
Updated April 7, 2008 at 1:59 p.m.

Text size  

• 4 Comments
• Email
• Print

Photo by Darin McGregor

Vienna Danna, 3, swims at the Recreation Center at Eastridge in Highlands Ranch.

Photo by Darin McGregor

Vienna Danna, 3, swims at the Recreation Center at Eastridge with her dad, Paul.

Photo by Darin McGregor

Vienna Danna, 3, clings to her dad, Paul, as she kids around before going swimming Thursday at the Recreation Center at Eastridge in Highlands Ranch. In July, she'll be going to the U.S. Transplant Games in Pittsburgh.

Ignoring both the alligator blowing water out of its nostrils and the giant frog with the slippery red tongue, the feisty triathlete whose first big competition is scant months away skips, hops, scurries and dashes - all at once - into the swimming pool, ready for another high-octane practice.

Needing no motivation or direction from her coach, she hurls her 29-pound, 35-inch body into an energetic routine of dog-paddling, mixing in a series of aquatic jumps, squeals and giggles for good measure.

In peak condition, she's not even breathing hard when it's time for the next phase of her workout. This involves her coach placing both his hands on her waist - near the six-inch scar that curves across her belly - and propelling her through the water. A frothy wave precedes her face, a mug whose most prominent features are two of the brightest blue-green eyes and one of the happiest smiles on this planet.

Some 30 minutes into this regimen, the triathlete shouts at her coach, "Daddy! Snack?"

Daddy says sure, because he knows that every snack she asks for, every hop, every squeal, every smile is a glittering piece of a 3-year-old miracle named Vienna Danna.

Since Paul Danna knows that every day of his daughter's life is an exquisite gift, he doesn't have any idea what it will be like July 11. For on that day, not only will Vienna turn 4, she'll be in Pittsburgh, participating in the U.S. Transplant Games, riding a bicycle, swimming in a pool, pushing a bowling ball down a lane.

And all the while, inside her, keeping her healthy - keeping her alive - will be a liver that once belonged to someone else.

Stalked by a killer

Aside from taking 39 hours to be born, the beautiful baby girl seemed perfectly normal. A little jaundiced, but nothing to worry about, right?

It was at Vienna's two- month checkup that Traci and Paul Danna learned their child was in trouble. Serious trouble. The doctors called it biliary atresia, a disease affecting the liver and bile ducts. A disease so rare it affects only one in 20,000 children. A disease that kills.

For Paul, the news was "torment." For Traci, it was "going from your greatest joy to your worst fear."

The next five months were a blur of medical emergencies that had Vienna in and out of Children's Hospital seven times. Everybody was trying to get the baby healthy and strong enough for the liver transplant she needed, but something always happened - a fever, respiratory distress.

Paul and Traci were in Houston, arranging to put Vienna on another waiting list. The doctors had just finished explaining why they would never operate on Vienna - she was too weak - when the call came from Colorado. A liver was available. A 2-year-old boy in Utah had died.

Vienna's parents agonized over what to do. Listen to the Houston doctors? Listen to their Colorado doctors? In the end, they listened to their hearts.

After a nine-hour surgery, a little bit of breath came back into Traci's and Paul's lungs. Each day after that, each day that Vienna's life seemed a little more sure, another morsel of hope visited their hearts.

Yes, their "Peanut" would likely be undersized her entire life. Yes, she would need medications her entire life to ward off the threat of her body rejecting the liver. Yes, she would need two years of physical and occupational therapy to bring her along.

But - yes! - she was alive. Alive with, her mother knew, the "great opportunity for a happy, wonderful life."

Kissing a miracle

It's a chilly day in early April. Traci watches as Milana, 20 months, bounces off walls and furniture. She watches as 7-week-old Paul Jr., sleeps placidly. Then she watches as her oldest child wraps herself around Daddy like a vine and then takes a visitor on a tour of her bedroom, a room festooned with a rainbow of hanging butterfly mobiles.

She listens as her daughter talks about loving anything to do with "princesses!" About how her favorite color is "pink!" How her favorite food is "shrimp!" and her second-favorite food is "pasta!" How she likes to play with "baby dolls!" and "buckets of sand!" How she likes to swim but knows "we don't swim in the potty" like Milana once tried to do.

Traci takes all this in and smiles. Sure, "every year it gets a little easier," but never too easy. "You still always have it in the back of your mind." You still stay vigilant for a fever, a stomach ache, vomiting. For anything that could be a sign.

But vigilance doesn't get in the way of a mother's joy. It doesn't prevent her from saying, "I always think of her as a miracle. And it makes me feel so lucky because I get to kiss a miracle every day."

Traci won't be going to Pittsburgh in July; she has to watch the two younger ones. It will be Paul and Vienna going, just as it's the two of them who go to the pool to practice swimming. Who are together when Vienna rides her pink bicycle, the one with training wheels. It's the two of them who practice bowling, with bumpers to keep the ball out of the gutters.

Paul knows that, for Vienna, the games will mean fun and participation, not competition. He knows that unlike most of the 2,000 athletes who will compete, the 15 or so kids who are Vienna's age will all get medals. He knows that all he cares about is Vienna having fun. He knows that for him and Traci, the games will be a celebration of a life that was almost ripped from their embrace.

And so as he stands in the pool near the giant frog with the slippery red tongue and feels his little girl climb all over him, he holds her a little tighter and a little longer than other daddies hold their girls. Because when you can hug a miracle, why would you ever want to let go?

How to help

* To find out more about organ and tissue donation, go to donoralliance.org.

* To learn how to become an organ donor, go to ColoradoDonorRegistry.org or call 1-888- 256-4386.

meadowj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-2606

• April 7, 2008

  9:12 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  MarineGrunt writes:

  Atta Girl!! Good for her! Hope she has a wonderful time at the Games!!

• April 7, 2008

  9:23 a.m.

  Suggest removal

  Scott writes:

  Go for it little girl!

  Scott

• April 7, 2008

  2:55 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  kmeissner writes:

  Great story!

• April 7, 2008

  4:37 p.m.

  Suggest removal

  I_Slay_The_Dragon writes:

  Another, excellant piece. !Viva Vienna!

Featured

• Broncos Game Action

  

  Click for more game action photos from Invesco field.

• 2008 Race for the Cure

  

  The 16th Annual Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.

• Rocky Multimedia

  

  The news comes alive in our videos and slide shows. Catch up on today's events.

• A dream fulfilled

  

  A Rocky Mountain News and MediaStorm production

• Presidential Elections

  

  See how Colorado counties have voted through the years.

• County election profiles

  

  A look at how residents in each Colorado county may vote.

• A Dozen on Denver

  

  Connie Willis is the featured author this week in 'A Dozen on Denver'

• Rocky Truth Patrol

  

  Reporters Laura Frank and Katie Kerwin McCrimmon hunt for truth in politics.

• Peak Picks

  

  Submit your fall foliage photos to our contest and vote on other submissions.