I have been acutely aware since waking up this morning that today is the 1st of September – the start of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I wish that I wasn’t Child Cancer Aware – not to the extent that I am now anyway. I wish that I could just roll back my life to a time four years ago when (despite my nursing qualifications) my knowledge of childhood cancer was almost non existent. Yes of course it’s important to be Childhood Cancer Aware but I wish that this was mere ‘head knowledge’ and not ‘heart knowledge’.
My ‘awareness’ of childhood cancer causes me to feel deep sadness and fight back tears every. single. day. The least wee thing can trigger this – a product display in the grocery store, a casual comment from a friend or work colleague, a memory that suddenly pops into my head.
This time three years ago Leah and I were in Bristol Children’s Hospital. The previous week Leah had been transferred out of her isolation cubicle on the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit to a beautiful ensuite room on their amazing purpose built Adolescent Unit. We had also been told the most fantastic news ever, which was that Leah’s bone marrow transplant had been successful and that she was fully engrafted. We were ecstatic. It was now going to be onwards and upwards, or so we thought.
Leah was allowed off the ward for short periods of time, so on the 2nd of September we very cheekily had a sneaky trip to the local Costa – this was strictly forbidden as Leah’s immune system was still very fragile.
Sadly our euphoria was short lived, as over the following weeks and months, side effect after side effect from the harsh treatments that she had experienced began to ravage Leah’s body, until finally – five months post transplant – these side effects also claimed her life. The cure proved as destructive as the disease.
Devastatingly, this is the reality of childhood cancer.