The Telethon Adventurers

On Thursday, July 10, 2008, when he was only 8 months and 1 day old, weeks of increasing sickness and days of tests culminated in a final diagnosis – Oliver had cancer. His was a form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma known as anaplastic large cell lymphoma. The next day he would have baseline scan’s, be fitted with a central line into his heart, and begin his chemotherapy as part of a clinical trial.

Every day for the next 12 months he had numerous drugs, morning, noon and night, to protect him from the side effects of his chemotherapy. Every Wednesday we went back to PMH for Oliver to have a needle placed into his port and receive his chemotherapy as part of a clinical trial. Every 3rd Wednesday he would receive a veritable cocktail of drugs. His hair fell out, and he developed terrible mucusitis from his mouth to his bottom. After each of his big doses we would gently remove large pieces of tissue that had peeled from his mouth, and gently wash and cover his bottom with every nappy change with 3 different creams to protect it from the chemicals that his body was removing. After 6 month’s the trial was cancelled due to the side effects it was having on the children, and Ollie would now receive a different drug and only need to go in for his 3 weekly cocktails. Fortunately, this was much nicer to him, and a thick mop of hair soon grew back.

Oliver was one of the lucky one’s – he has survived and thrived. If you were to see him now, you wouldn’t believe he was ever sick. But his wellness is tinged with a little guilt for me, because so many of our little friends must struggle on with the legacy of their treatment, and too many little bodies grew tired with the constant fight. And so we march on, not letting our son be defined by the cancer he was too young to understand and remember, but never forgetting that he was one of many brave and courageous little soldiers.