Above: Austin Hairston is pictured with his grandmother and legal guardian, Mary Norwood of Goldthwaite. Below: Hairston was crowned Homecoming King of Star High School in 2008. He is shown with Homecoming Queen Melissa Garcia. A story about his medical battles originally appeared in the Goldthwaite Eagle. Editor’s note: The following story and accompanying photos appeared in a recent column by Mike Lee. They are reprinted with permission of the Goldthwaite Eagle.

Austin Hairston is the son of Teresa Hairston of Lampasas and the late David Haiston. Austin is the nephew of Billie Shahan, Louann Williams and Cindy Whitehead -- sisters of David Hairston.

By MIKE LEE

All Austin Hairston wants is to be normal. All that will take is a miracle.

PHOTOS BY MIKE LEE The 19-year-old Goldthwaite resident and 2009 Star High School graduate can’t remember a single normal day in his life. He lived only a few normal days after his Jan. 11, 1991 birthday.

But after accidentally swallowing muriatic acid as a 15-monthold child, Hairston’s life has consisted of living two years without an esophagus, enduring two surgical attempts to rebuild his esophagus from other body parts, being unable to digest food that wasn’t liquid or liquefied, vomiting as many as 15 times a day because food can’t enter his stomach, drinking Ensure and Boost multiple times a day to keep his weight above 115 pounds, spending well over half of his life in hospitals, and most recently, receiving food through a feeding tube for 10 hours a night.

Playing sports, of all things, made Hairston feel normal. He was a 6-1, 115-pound wide receiver for Star’s six-man football team, including the Tigers’ 2008 state quarterfinalist team that enjoyed the school’s best season in 37 years. During that historic 2008 season, Hairston was elected as Star’s Homecoming King.

“If you ask me if I enjoyed school, it depends on what year. But I always loved sports,” Hairston said. “It was just something where I could try to be normal. I could be like all the others. It was something we all had in common.

“My teammates looked out for me. They made sure I didn’t get blindsided after I caught a pass. In basketball, they made sure players from the other team didn’t run into me.”

When he was 15 months old, Hairston accidentally drank muriatic acid that was left in a cup on the countertop in his family’s kitchen. Muriatic acid, or hydrochloric acid, has many uses, including household cleaning. When it comes in contact with human tissue, muriatic acid has an corrosive effect, including a chemical burn and irreversible damage.

The muriatic acid Hairston accidentally drank basically destroyed his esophagus, a condition doctors at Cook Children’s Medical Center in Fort Worth weren’t completely aware of for two years.

“They [doctors] kept trying to get Austin to eat, and he kept throwing it up,” said Mary Norwood of Goldthwaite, Hairston’s grandmother and legal guardian. “When they found out that the acid had eaten up his esophagus, they said that, when Austin was throwing up, he was trying to tell us something.”

When Hairston was 3 years old, doctors rebuilt his esophagus, using parts from his stomach, large intestine and colon. But besides liquids, any food he ate still had to be liquefied. Sometimes, his rebuilt esophagus would process the food. Sometimes, it would reject the food. His weight hovered around 60 pounds throughout elementary school.

In the sixth grade, Hairston transferred to Star, a small school district that could offer the individual attention he needed. Superintendent Barbara Marchbanks kept food and liquid for Hairston in a small refrigerator in her office. If Hairston forgot to eat or drink something every two hours, Marchbanks or the teaching staff would remind him.

“He has to constantly be drinking liquids,” Norwood said. “At Star, they let him drink Ensure and Dr Pepper. They’d make him soup or a baked potato in the cafeteria.”

Hairston appreciated Star school’s meeting his needs, even if he did try to hide the fact that he drank Ensure and Boost, nutritional supplements used commonly by senior citizens instead of high school students.

“In high school, I was ashamed of it,” Hairston said. “Since then, I’ve accepted that this is who I am. I want to make as much of my life as I can before my time comes.”

When it came to school work, Marchbanks said Hairston was a bright and motivated student. He was good enough to enter art and drawing contests with students from other schools. Star’s teachers helped Hairston stay caught up, even though he missed significant school time because of frequent visits to Brownwood Regional Medical Center and Cook Children’s Medical Center, where Hairston frequently ends up when his body begins to break down.

“He got his work done, no problems,” Marchbanks said. “We worked with him with one-on-one tutoring to make sure he was passing his classes. We gave him additional time to complete assignments because he missed so much time while he was in the hospital.

“At Star, all our students become our kids. We treat them as if they’re our own. My secretary says we nag them until they get everything done. We didn’t have to nag Austin. All he needed was some individualized attention. He was bright and smart and motivated to do his school work.”

In August 2009, Hairston underwent surgery in which his esophagus was rebuilt again using parts of his stomach, large intestine and colon. For the first time he could remember in his life, Hairston could eat anything.

“I ate a hamburger the day I got out of the hospital,” he said.

Norwood said, “He could eat pizza, steak, chicken, you name it.”

However, the surgery only worked for about six weeks. The lower portion of Hairston’s esophagus began to shrivel up and would no longer allow solid food to enter his stomach. Hairston was forced to use a feeding tube for 10 hours a night to receive the nourishment he needs.

“I eat a lot, but most of it doesn’t go down,” he said. “It comes back up. A bowl of cereal will go down. Other solid food gets stuck.

“People ask me why I eat if I know I’m going to throw up. My brain is telling me I’m hungry. My brain is telling me to eat. So I eat. Nobody knows how it feels.”

Hairston began attending a welding school in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex last year. But one night his potassium and sugar levels fell too low, and Hairston fell into a deep sleep. When he didn’t show up for class the next day, someone at the school went and found Hairston.

“If they hadn’t found him and made him get up and drink something, he would have died,” Norwood said. “He’s slowly starving to death.”

Hairston had to return home to Goldthwaite. Currently, he weighs 113 pounds. He has a wide scar from his neck to his navel. He lives in government-aided housing. He has a 7-month-old daughter, Kloey.

Hairston said doctors have told him that an esophagus transplant isn’t possible at this time, that there would be too many complications. Most research suggests esophagus transplants are impossible, although within the last two years, there has been a transplant of a human windpipe using stem cells from the recipient’s own bone marrow.

Stories like this give Norwood hope.

“They say they can’t do a transplant, but with the things doctors can do today, there’s got to be somebody out there that can fix this kid,” Norwood said. “I’ve seen on TV where they have lung donors, and they made somebody a new face. There’s got to be a way to help him. He wants to see his daughter grow up.

“He just wants to be normal. He doesn’t want anybody to know anything’s wrong with him.”

Despite living a life that is challenging at the least, and despite facing a future that is uncertain at the best, Hairston maintains a remarkably optimistic attitude.

“It’s not that hard to have a positive outlook,” he said. “It was at first, but after you accept it, it’s not all that hard to do.”