When my granddaughter woke me in the night, I realised something shocking had happened. Could my brave girl fight back? By Clare Lucas, 51
My granddaughter Khianna was transfixed as she watched the horse dancing in the ring.
I loved horses so I’d got us tickets for the dressage competition at the London 2012 Paralympics.
We were watching British dressage rider Natasha Baker – and she was about to win a gold medal.
‘I want to do that, Nan,’ Khianna said excitedly.
‘Maybe in a few years when you’re bigger your mum and I can buy you some lessons,’ I replied.
Then, when Khianna was six, she began complaining about shooting pains in her legs.
‘She’s been really tired too,’ my daughter Kerry said.
Worried, she took her to the GP and to A&E, but no one could find anything wrong.
But on a family holiday in the New Forest, I noticed Khianna was having to stop for a rest every few minutes as she ran about with our Rottweiler Max.
Something definitely wasn’t right. I worked as a theatre nurse and back at work, I bumped into a consultant I knew and when he asked if I was OK, my worries came tumbling out.
‘My grandchild isn’t well but nobody seems to know why,’
I told him.
Within days, he’d arranged a blood test. The results were devastating.
‘Khianna has leukaemia,’ the consultant told me and Kerry.
‘Don’t tell her,’ Kerry begged me, as we sat trying to take it in.
‘She’ll find out, though,’ I said, starting to cry.
'My grandchild isn't well'
A nurse led Khianna into the room and then she sat down beside us.
‘The doctors said you need some medicine and you might lose your hair, darling,’ I said, trying my best not to frighten her.
‘Will the medicine make the pain go away, Nan?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I told her.
‘Well, then I don’t care,’ she replied.
Kerry and I couldn’t believe how strong she was being.
As Khianna started chemo, her lovely waist-length curls did fall out. But amazingly, she took it all in her stride.
After two and a half years of intensive chemo, we got the news that Khianna was in remission and we watched with tears in our eyes as she rang the end of treatment bell.
As we celebrated with a family meal afterwards, Khianna said, ‘Now can I start riding lessons?’
But just three weeks later, Kerry noticed a bruise on Khianna’s calf.
At first, we thought she’d bumped her leg falling off a slide at a friend’s party. Then her energy dropped and a hospital scan revealed the leukaemia was back.
For her to relapse so quickly was heartbreaking.
This time, after more chemo and radiotherapy, Khianna was given a bone marrow transplant. She was given the all-clear just in time for her 11th birthday.
Within six months though, Khianna began getting nerve pain. She was struggling to walk and her eyesight had become blurry, even when Kerry got her new glasses.
Then, one weekend Khianna was at mine when she called out in the middle of the night.
‘Nan, my legs feel funny. I can’t walk!’ she shouted.
Terrified, my partner and I carried her to our car and drove her to hospital.
The doctors thought it was shingles and kept her in, waiting for the rash to appear.
I stayed with her and in the early hours of the morning Khianna woke me.
‘I think I’ve had an accident, Nan,’ she said. ‘Can you change me? I can’t move.’
Groggily, I got up and fumbled for the light switch.
‘Nan, it’s pitch black in here. Turn the light on,’ Khianna said.
‘I have turned on the light, darling,’ I told her.
I turned the switch off and on again, but as light flooded the room, Khianna said, ‘Nan, please stop messing around, it’s dark!’
That was the worst thing I’d ever heard in my life. But when I got the doctor, he confirmed it.
‘I’m afraid Khianna is completely blind,’ he said. ‘She’s also paralysed from the neck down.’
We were in shock as Khianna was sent for an MRI.
Later that day, we were told she had neuromyelitis optica, a rare condition where the immune system damages the spinal cord and nerves of the eye.
'My legs feel funny'
Three weeks on, there was a flicker of hope when her vision began to come back. But eventually, Khianna relapsed, leaving her with permanent blindness.
The outlook wasn’t good in terms of her mobility either.
Nine weeks on, when there was no improvement, the consultant told me, ‘It’s unlikely she’ll ever walk again.’
But my determined granddaughter had other ideas.
Weeks later, she proved them wrong, by moving her arm for the first time.
Bit by bit, she regained her mobility, all while adapting to life with sight loss.
One day the consultant mentioned the benefits of horse riding for rehabilitation.
That was music to Khianna’s ears.
‘When can I start?’ she pushed.
‘Soon, love,’ I promised.
After nine months in hospital, Khianna was finally discharged and returned home to Bromley, Greater London.
She ended up in hospital again after a serious bout of COVID-19.
But once she recovered from that, she was the strongest she’d been in a long time and I thought, She’s finally ready to start riding.
After a lot of searching we found the Riding for the Disabled Association (RDA) at their Bradbourne stables in Sevenoaks, Kent.
The volunteers were amazing with Khianna and I cried when I saw her on her first pony, a dark brown cob called Bisto.
She had the perfect posture too.
‘You’re a natural,’ I told her.
By listening intently to the voice of her coach Jenna, Khianna learnt to stay balanced on Bisto and find her way around the indoor arena.
Khianna eventually managed to tune in to Bisto’s mood and movements, and as the bond between them grew they began dressage practice too.
When a volunteer shouted out a letter, Khianna would ride towards the sound of their voice, gradually upping her skills and confidence.
Six months in, the coach had exciting news.
‘I’ve entered you into
a regional dressage competition,’ she told Khianna.
And on the day, she smashed it, coming first in her class and qualifying for the RDA national championships.
We were in the middle of a 40-degree heatwave, so to protect the horses, Khianna had to record her performance for the judges.
I held my breath as she performed the perfect routine on her beloved Bisto.
We had to wait three months to find out the winner via a live broadcast on YouTube and we all crowded around the TV, waiting nervously for the announcement.
‘And in first place, Khianna,’ the presenter said.
We were all screaming with delight.
‘I couldn’t be prouder of you,’ I told Khianna, hugging her tightly.
‘Thanks, Nan!’ she replied, happily.
Khianna’s 16 now and her ambition is to compete in dressage at the Paralympics.
When I took her to watch it back in 2012, neither of us could have imagined the journey she’d go on.
She also dreams of being a model one day.
We’re only in such a positive place thanks to Bradbourne RDA.
They are like family now and riding has been life-changing for both Khianna’s physical and mental health.
To give something back, she recently completed a sponsored seven-mile walk with the funds going towards the riding group’s running expenses, including feed and vet bills.
My amazing granddaughter wants to inspire blind people everywhere to never let go of their dreams.
● To sponsor Khianna, visit gofundme.com and search ‘The blind dressage rider’.