The 12-year-old had never eaten cereal, noodles or a hot dog.

No solid food at all, or even soda.

A plastic tube through his abdomen fed Austin Barber formula.

Another tethered the Manheim Central fifth-grader to a scuba-like oxygen tank.

Two hours a day, Austin wore a tight vest that vibrated violently to shake hardened mucus from his lungs.

When he fainted from coughing so much, his mother blew on his face to jar him awake.

Even common colds threatened serious pneumonia for Austin and often resulted in a hospital stay.

Day-to-day life with cystic fibrosis, a chronic and sometimes fatal disease that thickens and dries mucus in the body, did not cause Austin to despair.

He smiled, widely, when spending time with his parents, playing video games with his two brothers and "loving on" family dogs Harley, Katrina and Cheyenne.

Early last year, doctors gave Austin less than 12 months to live without new organs.

Parents Shane and Angela Barber quit their jobs and sold their Manheim home.

With the help of $25,000 raised by the Lancaster community, they moved to Oklahoma City and took Austin to a cystic fibrosis center there.

Doctors concluded only a new heart and lungs could save him.

So Shane and Austin moved into a recreational vehicle in a Houston trailer park, close to one of the three hospitals in the country that transplants lungs into children.

Angela got a job in Oklahoma City to help with expenses and cared for Austin's younger brother, Chance, with the help of paternal grandparents. Weekends, she drove to Houston. Austin's older brother, Damon, remained in Pennsylvania.

For six months, the family waited for two appropriate donor lungs and a heart.

While other children attended school, Austin lugged his oxygen tank around the trailer park, flashing his trademark smile to make friends among the adults.

On June 21, Austin's pager finally beeped.

"Oh, wow. I was scared and happy at the same time," Austin said. "I was scared about me — I didn't want to think it — about me not surviving."

By the time Angela's plane reached Houston, Austin had gone under the knife.

"After he goes into surgery, you don't know if you will ever see him again," his mother said.

Austin's medical history haunted his chances of survival.

He was born with a heart defect and diagnosed with cystic fibrosis six months later. Austin spent his first year of life in the hospital and doctors said he would not likely live more than a few years.

A heart-valve replacement and blood transfusion caused his body to develop antibodies that could cause rejection of most organs.

But somehow, 67-pound Austin has kept on surviving, and smiling.

Shane has said his 4-foot-9-inch-tall son is tougher than any man he knows.

How did he feel when nurses disconnected his oxygen tank a few days after his operation?

"Oh, man," he said. "It felt great."

The Manheim boy now loves sausage, hot dogs, lasagna, spaghetti, vegetables and especially macaroni and cheese.

"I could eat mac and cheese for breakfast, lunch and dinner," Austin said.

Before his operation, Austin watched other children play.

Seven months later, the sixth-grader at Burgard Elementary School loves recess and gym, especially dodge ball.

Now 13, Austin has had a couple episodes of rejection, but has rebounded.

His mother said plenty of hurdles remain; Austin will always have cystic fibrosis. But she said he also won't lose his smile.

Austin enjoys watching "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids" and wants to be a scientist some day, like the TV show's main character.

Austin loves video games. When playing "Superman Returns" on his Xbox 360, he uses super speed, X-ray vision, heat vision, freezing capability and powerful wind-like breath to kill attacking robots and save Metropolis.

Oh, and this Superman is writing his own life story, too.

"It's called, 'Austin Barber's Life,'" he said. "I'm still on the first page."

• CONTACT US: rrobinson@LNPnews.com or x481-6032. The Voices column is written by a rotating team of New Era staffers. It appears Mondays.

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