After a terrible diagnosis, we felt relieved that our boy’s life was back on track. Surely lightning couldn’t strike twice? By Anna Jebb, 45
A tiny figure toddled over to me, clutching a figure of Woody from Toy Story.
But as I pulled my two-year-old son Noam in for a cuddle, I was careful not to press on his tummy.
For a couple of weeks, he’d been suffering what I thought was constipation.
But now, his tummy was
so bloated, it looked like a football.
My husband Sam and I took him to visit our GP.
After he’d been examined,
Noam was sent straight to our local rapid access clinic, and from there, he was referred
to hospital.
Tests and scans were carried out.
Then, a consultant told us, ‘I’m afraid it’s a tumour.’
Sam and I looked helplessly at one another.
‘Cancer?’ I said. ‘But he’s only two.’
Further tests revealed that our little boy had Burkitt lymphoma, a rare and fast-growing cancer of the lymphatic
system.
The consultant tried to reassure us.
‘This type of cancer is highly treatable,’
he said. ‘The prognosis
looks good.’
We clung tight to those words of hope.
My parents were babysitting our other children, Emily, four, and one-year-old Saul.
So Sam went home to care for the kids, and I stayed in hospital with Noam.
In the months that followed, Noam endured gruelling chemotherapy.
He suffered sickness, and it was heartbreaking to see him feeling so unwell.
Between treatments, we’d cuddle up together on his hospital bed and watch his favourite animated film,
Toy Story, on loop.
When his blond hair began to fall out it clumps, it took all my strength to bite back my tears and not show him how scared I felt.
'I'm afraid it's a tumour'
But a support worker
from Momentum Children’s Charity regularly checked in to see if I needed anything, even if it was just to talk.
She also gave me a key to the snack cupboard on the ward.
It was a small gesture, but it
meant a lot, as
I never wanted to stray too far from
Noam’s side to get snacks
or a drink.
After four long months, scans showed the treatment had been successful. Finally, Noam was cancer-free.
He returned home, and we looked forward to moving on with our family life.
In the years that followed, Noam grew into a kind-hearted child.
When he was seven, we welcomed another son, Ira.
By the time Noam started secondary school, he looked so healthy, it was hard to imagine that he’d ever suffered
cancer.
He swam and played cricket.
Sometimes he complained of pain on his left side. But
it came and went, and we put it down to
muscle strain.
Then, one weekend,
Noam was away with some family friends.
But then I received a text to say they’d taken him to A&E with abdominal pains.
I assumed it was a tummy bug. But later, I received a call from the hospital.
‘I’m afraid we’ve found a mass near your son’s heart,’ a doctor said.
A chill ran through me.
I thought, It’s happening again.
My parents drove me straight to hospital, where a doctor showed me an X-ray of the tumour.
It was the size of a fist,
and it was on the left side of Noam’s chest.
I felt riddled with guilt, and thought, How could we have missed it?
But it had been growing into his chest, so wasn’t visible from the outside.
We’d always been open with him about his childhood cancer, but he had no memory of it.
This time, when I told
him about the tumour, he knew what it meant, and
he looked scared.
I drove Noam back to a hospital near our home in Kingston upon Thames, Greater London.
Further tests revealed that the tumour was a type of sarcoma.
It was hard to believe that by the tender age of 12, my boy had twice been diagnosed with cancer.
Noam needed chemotherapy, and an operation to remove
the tumour and the rib attached to it.
But, again Momentum Children’s Charity stepped in to provide support.
The treatment meant Noam missed months
of school.
But the charity arranged tutoring funded by the local council.
And they arranged special experiences for Noam and our family, including a boat trip and
a house visit from a falconer, who brought
owls and an eagle.
The charity also
organised a break away
at one of their cabins at a holiday park.
It was near a hospital for peace of mind.
But seeing the children walking along the beach, smiling and being kids,
lifted my spirits.
Noam endured radiotherapy before his treatment finally came to
an end.
He was cancer-free, and genetic testing revealed that his second cancer was unconnected to the first.
He’d just been incredibly unlucky.
Now, Noam is 15 and thriving.
He still has a check-up every four months.
But watching him being able to enjoy his life like any other teenager, feels like winning the lottery.
And we’ll forever be thankful to Momentum Children’s Charity for lifting our spirits and keeping us going through the hardest
of times.
● Momentum Children’s Charity partners with hospitals across Surrey, Sussex and London to offer support for families of seriously ill children. Find out more at momentumcharity.org