7 October 2014 our lives changed forever when our youngest son Harry was diagnosed with cancer.
Please excuse me as my motivation for writing this post is a bit selfish. The assault on my world as a result of Harry’s diagnosis affected me like nothing I have ever experienced. To capture and record my emotions enables me to remain present and strong for Harry, my family and myself.
Sharon knew
We knew Harry was sick but being a 3-year-old we initially put his consistent illnesses down as “typical” for a kid his age. Our first trip to the doctor confirmed our thoughts and we were told that in a few days he should show signs of recovery. Harry didn’t recover, and when he began unsettling full body night sweats our concerns grew stronger.
My wife Sharon had Harry back to the doctor, her motherly intuition telling her something was seriously wrong with her child. Harry was weak, lethargic, pale, and a long way from the bright, energetic, fun boy we adored. Alarm bells were ringing and Sharon with Harry was sent to our local children’s hospital for a blood test; they didn’t leave.
Diagnosis
On approach, it was immediately obvious the good doctor in the Emergency Department had bad news. Communication is mostly non-verbal and there was no mistaking from his body language that what he was about to relay wasn’t good. Struggling with his words, his body shifting left to right, his eyes sad. Finally, after what seemed eternity we received the words any parent would dread: “I’m sorry but your son has cancer”.
The words hit me so hard it was almost unbearable. A deep, inner pain I had never experienced consumed me. My heart broke, my stomach ached and the world around me suddenly slowed. I knew my dear wife Sharon felt this pain too. Standing close with her mum, the words stabbed at her as she buckled over in pain, clutching at her abdomen as though she had received a powerful punch. Deep sorrow engulfed as she began to cry. Her hurt for her baby filled the room, and we all felt it, including Harry. Harry previously silent, suddenly on Sharon’s response was jolted into life. Sensing his mother’s pain he cried for her, Sharon held him tightly, her strength and love immediate to soothe her son’s fear.
Hope
“But” is a small and powerful word. Standing looking down at Harry on his hospital bed, my mind racing to comprehend his situation, clutching for sense, the end of the doctor’s statement landed on me…
“but it is curable”.
Hope is a mighty emotion. The educated words of the doctor immediately gave me direction for my thoughts. I am so grateful my mind naturally took this path. I heard myself speaking softly to Sharon, “we aren’t going to lose him”, speaking it with certainty and conviction. The doctor’s words of cure enabled me to channel my thoughts towards a positive outcome for Harry, the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel”. At this stage, I had no idea the “tunnel” would be so long but any glimmer of hope was enough.
Blur
After diagnosis, the remainder of the evening is a foggy memory with patches of distinct images never to be forgotten. Holding Harry as he was subjected to necessary, but incredibly invasive medical procedures is an experience I wish no parent would ever have to endure.
Triggered by fear, Harry’s innate primal response for self-protection saw him fighting with the well-meaning medical staff as they struggled with his power. While wanting Harry to co-operate, I couldn’t help but admire his strength of fighting spirit. This part of him we never knew previously, and amongst ourselves, Sharon and I felt buoyed by Harry’s show of determination. While physically weak and frail Harry showed us in those early hours he was a person of mighty character.
Treatment began the next morning. Harry’s cancer had the potential to spread rapidly and time was important. Amongst the continual flow of doctors and medical specialists coming in to visit Harry and ourselves, the severity of the situation began to sink in…
Our little boy has cancer.
Thank you
Sharon and I would like to extend our sincere appreciation to the incredible medical team at The Women’s and Children’s Hospital where we know Harry is getting the best of care possible.
We have been overwhelmed and humbled by the demonstrations of love given to our family by our friends, work colleagues and our community. The kindness and concern for Harry and ourselves empower us each day as we move towards that “light at the end of the tunnel”.
Harry was diagnosed with the most common of cancer’s found in children, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) . From the Mayo Clinic ‘ALL is a type of cancer of the blood and bone marrow — the spongy tissue inside bones where blood cells are made.’
At time of writing Harry is 2 months into his Induction Therapy, a protocol of chemotherapy designed to rapidly curb the cancer and induce a period of controlled remission. This Induction Therapy is 6 months in duration with the complete treatment plan for ALL being 2 to 3 years.