Devlin Maloney is visited by the Philadelphia Phillies’ Jeff Francoeur at The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, where he is recovering after nearly drowning in a pool July 4, 2015.
Devlin Maloney, second from the right, enjoys a summer day with his family outside of The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. They are his twin brother Keegan, his mom Nancy, his father Dan and his older brother Garrett.
Devlin Maloney considered the domino on the table in front of him.
His approach planned, he twisted his head, squinted his eyes and extended his right arm. He thrust his right thumb and index finger out, like a pair of chopsticks, and slowly lowered his hand toward the domino. He pinched it with his fingers, and—securing his target—forced his arm up carefully, gradually.
Holding the domino out, he swung his arm over a box on the table, and tentatively hung out his hand. Devlin stared at the domino, then the box. Suddenly, he let go, and watched the domino fall into the box—plink!
“Nice job, Devlin!” said the therapist at his side. “Three more!”
Devlin went to work again, this time with his left hand, forcing his fingers out of the fist it naturally rests in these days. Just the motion of opening and closing his hand requires concentration, physical exertion and determination, all of which show themselves on the 8-year-old Lawrence resident’s face.
Three months ago, making a fist or picking up a domino would not have been a challenge—much less a reason to cheer—for Devlin. After all, he was a gifted athlete and a solid student, an All-Star baseball player for Lawrence Little League who loved to ride his scooter and play with friends and his brothers, Keegan and Garrett.
But, after nearly drowning during a pool party July 4, the milestones have shifted. Devlin has been at The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia since the accident, re-learning how to breathe, eat, talk and move. At the outset, his doctors weren’t sure which—if any—Devlin would be able to do by himself again. He doesn’t remember the accident or any of the days immediately before or after it, including his 8th birthday July 1. He spent 10 weeks on a feeding tube, eight weeks unable to speak.
So, now, eating a cheeseburger or telling his favorite joke—things 8-year olds do everyday—are cause for celebration.
The victories don’t come easy. He wakes at 7 a.m. each morning, and spends eight hours each day in therapy—even getting dressed, showering and eating are part of his treatment. Physical therapists, speech therapists, occupational therapists and a psychologist are just a few of the medical professionals working together, day in and day out, to ensure the best possible outcome.
Of course, they can only do as much as the patient can, but that’s never been an issue with Devlin. His medical team at CHOP has marveled at what they’ve seen when they look into his eyes. Even when he couldn’t move or talk, his face always carried this look, a look that says, “I’m getting out of here, and I’m doing it on my terms.”
His stay at CHOP was supposed to end in September. Then, the doctors pushed it back to Oct. 1. In mid-September, CHOP extended Devlin’s stay again, this time until late October. Each extension means the patient has shown the ability for more improvement. When the progress stops, so do the extensions.
It’s because Devlin has progressed so much that he’s still in the hospital. At the end of September, he was eating solid food, taking steps with the help of a walker and speaking slowly in short phrases. Each week brings new developments.
Devlin always has been an independent person, someone who had to find out for himself if something was possible. Born with a hearing impairment, he learned from his parents, Dan and Nancy, that he had to advocate for himself. He was his best ally, and no one else was going to do the hard work for him. This lesson worked for him earlier this summer when Devlin signed himself up for the Lawrence Little League All-Star team, even after Nancy told him she thought he was too young to play.
It shows up now in different ways, like when he unbuckles the seat belt to his wheelchair and tries to escape from it. He wants to be back to normal, to get dressed by himself and shower by himself and eat by himself. He may have to work harder to do those things then he did three months ago, but this isn’t a sob story.
Devlin Maloney has made sure of that.
* * *
In the early afternoon July 4, Dan and Nancy Maloney packed their kids up, and headed across town to a cookout at a friend’s house. It was just like any Independence Day gathering, and there was plenty for the kids to do in the backyard: a trampoline, Wiffle ball and the centerpiece of the event—a pool.
The adults—many of them involved with public safety in the township—pulled chairs up around the pool and chatted as the children played in the water. Someone had set up the garden hose so it sprayed water straight in the air, the drops raining down like a summer shower.
Around 7 p.m., Dan realized he hadn’t fed Rocco, the family’s Pug, and drove home. Nancy stood in the center of the yard, watching her boys. Garrett, an 8th grader at Lawrence Middle School, was on one side of the yard playing Wiffle ball. Keegan was on the trampoline in the back of the yard, and twin brother Devlin was in the shallow end of the pool with a handful of other kids.
At some point shortly thereafter, Devlin slipped under the surface of the water. No one’s sure exactly when, how or why.
One thing was certain: Devlin’s future was on the clock. Brain damage can start in children just seconds after blood flow stops, and a two-minute delay in administering CPR can be the difference between no damage and significant brain injury, according to the U.S. National Library of Medicine.
Shawn McLaughlin stood to give his poolside seat to a friend shortly after Devlin went under. McLaughlin immediately spotted the drowning boy, and yelled for help. Shaun Dlabik jumped into the pool and grabbed Devlin, placing him on the deck. Dan Tomalin and Mark Lenarski, Jr., secured the boy’s head and started performing CPR. Others, like Sean Willever—Devlin’s “Uncle Sean”—ran to assist in the rescue. All of them are firefighters in Lawrence Township, including Lenarski, who, in one of the day’s many coincidences, had just moved back from North Carolina.
“The things we heard about afterwards, you know those people were there for a reason,” Nancy said. “We watched Marky growing up. Here he is saving our son. It’s unbelievable.”
This is where things get spotty for Nancy, her mind blocking and blotting out the details. She remembers hearing the commotion and yelling, and by the time she processed what had happened, the men already had pulled Devlin out of the pool and started lifesaving measures. The firefighters continued administering CPR until the ambulance arrived—it happened to be parked nearby.
Devlin was transported to Capital Health Medical Center in Hopewell, whose staff decided Devlin needed to be transferred to a more specialized hospital. The Maloneys chose to send Devlin to CHOP, and crews loaded him onto a helicopter en route to Philadelphia. Lawrence Township Police Officer Joe Leck picked up Dan and Nancy, and drove them to CHOP.
Devlin spent 12 days in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at CHOP. He went through a battery of tests and spent time on a machine that oscillated to help rid his lungs of the water he had swallowed. An EKG showed irregularities, and doctors briefly considered installing a pacemaker. Devlin had suffered cardiac arrest July 4, but it’s unclear whether he went into arrest because he was drowning or vice versa.
For Dan and Nancy, time ceased to exist—everything happened so fast but the hours crawled by. Anxiety crept in. No one at CHOP made any promises to them or told them everything would be OK. The truth was, no one knew.
About five days into Devlin’s stay, once the swelling from his accident subsided, he moved to a neurology floor so doctors could perform an MRI and determine the extent of his brain damage. Devlin had received CPR for a long time, and any extended resuscitation attempt comes with the risk of brain injury since there’s no guarantee oxygen and blood are flowing to the brain. Nancy and Dan waited in Devlin’s room with frayed nerves as Devlin went for the test.
Later that day, a neurologist and the PICU attending physician came to the room—it was late at night, and both doctors had stayed beyond the end of their shift so they could analyze the test results. The MRI showed something unexpected—Devlin had not suffered any significant damage to his brain. The doctors said they rarely get to share such good news.
The next morning, on his rounds, the same attending doctor brought his team of residents to visit Devlin. He pointed at the boy and said, “When I tell you that CPR means so much, here’s your example why.” He and others working with Devlin at CHOP have said without the quick thinking of the men at the party July 4, Devlin most likely would not have survived.
Other tests showed no trauma to the rest of his body, as well, meaning the path had been cleared for Devlin to start the long road to recovery. The Maloneys may never have answers about what happened to their son July 4, but, for now, they’ve chosen to focus on what they can control. They want to help Devlin get better, and they want to share their gratitude for everyone who saved their son.
“We will never know,” Nancy said. “But it was like everything aligned that night. If this had to have happened, we couldn’t have been in a better place with better people who got us to the point that he’s able to make this incredible recovery.”
* * *
Since July 20, Devlin has lived in a section of CHOP called Children’s Seashore House.
A medical care and rehabilitation facility for children with chronic illnesses and severe developmental disabilities, the center is full of the cheery staff and state-of-the-art equipment Devlin needs to make his recovery. Everyone in the building knows Devlin.
“New people come and go all the time, but Devlin’s been here awhile,” Nancy said.
“Yeah!” Devlin said, chiming in from his chair across the room. He had been doing exercises with a therapist, but must have been keeping close tabs on what his mother said about him, lest she say something embarrassing.
This ability to multitask and to comprehend has Devlin’s doctors optimistic about his potential. He follows instructions well. He was non-verbal from July 4 until early September, but in the span of a week last month, he began speaking single words then phrases and short sentences. He talks mainly in response to questions.
In therapy, he practices with making difficult sounds, as well as with reasoning and inferencing. The therapist will show him pictures and read him books, and Devlin will have to draw conclusions about what might happen next. He has shown no weaknesses in comprehension and higher functioning; he seems to be operating on the same level he did before the accident. His main struggle is forming and speaking words, a result of dysarthria, the limited control of breathing and speaking that can appear with traumatic brain injury.
Devlin had to re-learn how to breathe, talk and move, and his therapists have worked together in creating a plan to integrate them all in his exercises. He had to blow bubbles, which taught him how to breathe and also move his mouth in the same manner he would to speak. They’re teaching him how to have conversations with people. When he plays games like dominoes or Connect Four, he has to say “My turn” before his move, practicing both speech and fine motor skills.
He only had his feeding tube removed in mid-September, but progressed to eating omelettes, burgers and turkey sandwiches a few days later. He’s doing math. He’s started playing Minecraft, his favorite video game, again.
He remembers people and much of his life. He doesn’t remember July 4, but his parents told him he had an accident. They’ve spared him specifics because he’s doing pool therapy, which is a vital tool in helping him regain movement. Outside of the pool, he has progressed to a new walker that provides less support for his legs. He now can hold some weight with his legs, and is strong enough to move the walker by himself.
It’s something new every day, and his family has been there, experiencing it all with him. Nancy lived at CHOP with him until Sept. 21, when leave from her job as a financial researcher for Bloomberg ran out. She only left the hospital on the weekends, when Dan would come so she could run home for a few hours. Dan has since taken over staying with Devlin full-time, and will do so as long as his schedule with Hamilton-based Continental Fire and Safety permits.
“They don’t have a rule that you have to have someone here,” Nancy said. “They do handle a lot of situations where parents can’t be here. But we don’t want that for Devlin. My husband and I are here all the time. We always have somebody with him. We want this to be as much about us learning what his needs are and how he’s developing as it is about making him comfortable and seeing familiar people.”
CHOP provides a cot for one parent to stay in the room with their child. Nancy would wake Devlin up in the morning, and go to his therapy appointments with him. She and Dan meet regularly with Devlin’s medical team to hear about their son’s progress and set goals and expectations for the future. Devlin has forced his doctors to evaluate his goals continually because he has made so much progress in a short period of time.
“Even when his body wouldn’t cooperate, Devlin always communicated through his eyes,” read a joint statement from Susan Fendrick, a nurse practitioner in CHOP’s Division of Rehabilitation, and Dr. Deborah Mowery, a pediatric rehabilitation consultant at CHOP. “His bright eyes always showed his determination and strength. Through hard work in PT/OT and speech therapy, Devlin is now able to feed himself, talk and play with others. Devlin has made a most miraculous recovery, and we are proud and honored to continue to care for him.”
Through it all—the accident, the tests, the doctors and the rehab—Devlin has remained upbeat. He has days where he may be tired and not want to do what the therapists ask of him, but he still bears down and gets to work. He knows what’s required of him, and he does it.
Devlin’s medical team said his attitude has helped his progress tremendously. That positivity has also fueled Dan and Nancy, who in turn try to keep the atmosphere light. Dan gave Devlin his annual summer mohawk, and they play Wii Baseball every chance they get. Nancy made a fake mustache for Devlin to wear when one of his therapists grew facial hair of his own. They like to encourage Devlin to tell his favorite joke—“How do you make a tissue dance? Put a little boogie in it.”
His brothers visit at least once a week, as do his grandparents and friends from home. He’s met the Phillie Phanatic mascot and, in a one-on-one event, Philadelphia Phillies outfielder Jeff Francoeur. Just for fun, the ballplayer donned Devlin’s Lawrence Little League hat.
But as much as CHOP has been a fine place for Devlin, home is where he and his family want him to be.
“I would love to see him back at the Lawrence Township schools at some point in the near future,” Nancy said. “I would love for him to be able to walk and play with friends and his brothers. And, just generally, being home, being back together as a family.”
It’s only when the conversation or Devlin’s thoughts turn to home that emotions start to affect him. In mid-September, after finishing cleaning up the table full of dominoes, Devlin was asked if he missed home. Tears formed in his eyes.
Nancy turned to Devlin, and rubbed his head.
“I know you’re sad,” she said to Devlin. “You miss home. It’s OK, buddy. You’ll be there soon.”
She sighed. “Happy home is where he belongs, back in Lawrenceville.”
* * *
Lawrence is more than a hometown for the members of the Maloney family.
It’s where Dan grew up, and where he met Nancy. It’s where Nancy went to college, a proud alumna of Rider University. Nancy and Dan both are members of Slackwood Fire Company. Nancy’s the president of Lawrence Little League, where Dan coaches. All three Maloney children go to Lawrence Township Public Schools: Garrett’s at LMS, and Keegan is in third grade at Ben Franklin Elementary School. Before the accident, Devlin was set to join his twin for another year at BFES.
They’ve given their time and support and money to Lawrence Township. So, naturally, when the Maloney family needed help, the community responded with gusto.
Support came in all forms. People from across the community signed up on an online calendar to provide hot meals for the family for the entire summer. The Firemen’s Association provided financial help, and members from all the firehouses in town have continued to check in with the family. Friends from PPH Baseball in West Windsor started a GoFundMe campaign that raised thousands of dollars in days. As of Sept. 23, the community had given $14,595 to the campaign, with donations still trickling in.
Lawrence Little League collected toiletries for parents at CHOP who are going through similar situations as the Maloneys. The league took monetary donations for Devlin when it hosted a summer All-Star tournament. It had banners made, with Devlin’s name and No. 2—he wore the number in honor of New York Yankees great Derek Jeter. Memory Makers Studio, the photographer for Lawrence Little League, made buttons with Devlin’s picture and the GoFundMe hashtag on it. LLL provided Devlin with a trophy from the tournament his All-Star team played in.
Shelley Holt, an aide at Ben Franklin Elementary, helped organize a quoits tournament in September that benefited St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital as well as Devlin. Theresa Krisak, Cindy Zegarski, Kim Finch and Patty Livecchi—all teachers at Ben Franklin—made bows with wooden Ds attached in Devlin’s honor, and decorated the front of the school. The bows soon spread up and down Princeton Pike, and across the township.
“We really just wanted to decorate the front of our school,” said Krisak, who has known Dan since they were teenagers. “We never intended to do anything more. We wanted Nancy and Dan to drive by and know we were behind them and support them. It just grew naturally from that.”
Staff at Ben Franklin also made a giant sign that read, “Ben Franklin Loves Devlin,” and placed it in front of the school. Then, one day in July, dozens of Ben Franklin staff members showed up at the school to film a video message for Devlin, so he knew they were rooting for him.
As the start of the school year approached, Eldridge Park Elementary School guidance counselor Tricia Burns—a family friend—and EPES principal Kathy Robbins—who was at the July 4 party—acted as liaisons between the family and the school district. Together, they formulated a plan to make Keegan feel more comfortable as he went to school without Devlin for the first time.
The outpouring has astounded Nancy and Dan, and they’ve been sure to tell Devlin about all the support he has at home.
“Without everyone who has helped us, it certainly wouldn’t have been possible for us to have this long of a separation for our family,” Nancy said. “There are a lot of important people in our lives.”
* * *
The Maloneys don’t know what to expect exactly for Devlin’s future.
Doctors have made no promises about his recovery, even as Devlin progresses to do more and more. An education representative at CHOP has been working with the Lawrence school district to coordinate possible placement for Devlin when he gets back home. Where that may be, the Maloneys don’t know.
They’ve also begun taking a look at their house and rooms in it, analyzing what adaptations they may need to make for Devlin. They don’t know what the cost will be, but Nancy said they’ll tackle that when it comes.
For now, they’re focusing on taking care of Devlin and their family. Nothing’s set in stone, except the support they have from each other and the community.
Devlin is aware of what’s happening, even if he doesn’t verbalize it. In mid-September, as Nancy wheeled him through the halls of the Children’s Seashore House, she asked him if he had anything to say.
Devlin smiled, and began to speak, slowly. “Thank. You.”
To support the GoFundMe campaign for Devlin Maloney, go online to gofundme.com/yp3ucp9s.
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