What it feels like… to have cancer at 11 years old

A few days before my 11th birthday my mum, Nicola, started getting worried about my belly. It had been swelling, like a rugby ball. It wasn’t hurting but my clothes were tight.

To find out what was wrong my dad, Stuart, talked to a nurse on the phone and I was booked in to see the doctor.

A few days later, the doctor sat me on the bed and felt my stomach. He told me that something wasn’t right, and suggested I could have liver failure.

I was really scared – but I knew I would be looked after. I was immediately sent straight to The Princess Royal Hospital in Telford.

When we arrived, loads of doctors came in and asked questions and said they needed to do some tests.

During the blood test a nice nurse distracted me with a ‘find the sloth’ book and that was when my obsession with sloths started!

When the results came back, a senior doctor spoke to Dad in a private room while I chatted to a lovely nurse about the costume I’d worn recently at school for World Book Day – I went as an Oompa Loompa and my best friend, Jade, wore the same.

I didn’t know what the doctors told my dad in that room but they needed to send me to Birmingham Children’s Hospital for more scans.

Dad has since said he didn’t want to tell me what they suspected until he knew for certain, so I wouldn’t be upset. But I later found out I had cancer on my right fallopian tube, called dysgerminoma. It’s rare for a child like me to get this type as it’s usually seen in women aged 50 and over.

After my first ever ride in an ambulance to hospital, I was led to a private room, which had a special air flow so I had less risk of catching coronavirus, and that’s where I spent my 11th birthday.

Visitors were restricted to one per patient, so the nurses decorated my room and got me an art set because I like drawing.

It also meant Mum and Dad couldn’t watch me open my presents at the same time, which was really upsetting, but I saw them individually and they got me an iPad so I could play games and watch films.

My aunt, Becky, also got me a sloth cuddly toy, which I called Sammy. I took him everywhere I went; he brings me good luck.

Soon after, the doctors told me I needed to have surgery on my belly to put some tubes in my chest that they called ‘wiggles’.

I was really frightened at the idea of surgery. I had never imagined having an operation in my life but I knew that the surgeons would take good care of me.

I woke up afterwards in intensive care and when I was back in the private room, Dad held my hand and finally told me that I had cancer. It was such a shock and I couldn’t stop crying.

I didn’t know anyone else who had cancer but I knew it meant I was really poorly.

I was lucky to have Mum and Dad there to comfort me, and to be able to FaceTime friends like Jade. She cried when I told her, too.

The doctors advised that I had to have chemo, and I was given a book explaining that I would lose my hair – that was a big worry.

During my first session, the medicine was put in via the wiggles and central line into my chest. It was a strange feeling, but it didn’t take me long to get used to it.

Mainly I was just bored because it took six hours, over three days, to finish. I watched films and my parents took it in turns to sit with me. I was a bit sick after my first chemo but soon I felt fine.

After a long four weeks, in May, I was able to go home. It was weird leaving my hospital room and finally getting fresh air but I was really excited, and happy to see my sister and two brothers again. They surprised me with balloons and we had cake.

I had my second cycle of chemo a few weeks later. I didn’t feel ill this time but, just like I had been dreading, my hair started to fall out a lot. I woke up one morning to find clumps of it on my pillow.

In the end, I felt fed up so I decided to shave it all off.

I was fortunate to get a long wig from the Little Princess Trust charity but it was blonde and my natural hair colour’s brown and it had been long, past my shoulders. Really, I just wanted that back.

I hoped my third chemo would be my last one but my CT scan showed the tumour was still there – although it had shrunk from a rugby ball to a tennis ball, which I was really happy about.

I love dancing so I celebrated my fourth and final chemo with a TikTok video.

Last chemo ????

Finally, in August, I was given a date for the operation to remove my tumour.

On the day, I was terrified. I cried when they were about to put me to sleep but – as always – the nurse with me was really nice. She told me that she would ‘always be there’ and that made me feel so much better.

I was in a lot of pain for the first hour when I woke up and I couldn’t talk very well, but my mum was with me to make me laugh.

After two days rest I was allowed home and three weeks afterwards, they said I could have my wiggles taken out. I was overjoyed!

It meant I was able to go back to school. I had missed my friends and couldn’t wait to get back to do art and drama.

In October 2020, my doctors told me there was no cancer left in me. I was able to ring the special bell on the children’s ward for when treatment is over.

I was thrilled and my family and I celebrated with a dinner out at a restaurant near our house.

I still have to have a blood test done once every month and scans every three months but I don’t mind. Sammy the sloth’s at my side for every appointment.

I feel positive about the future and I’m looking forward to Christmas.

My hair has grown back, although it’s only about three inches long and is a lighter brown. Eventually I’d like it to be long like Ariana Grande’s.

I want to help others feel better, though. The wig I had meant a lot to me, so I’m growing my hair and I’ll donate it to someone else poorly like I was.

Grace wrote this article with the help of dad Stuart.

Having been supported by cancer charity CLIC Sargent throughout her treatment, she is now sharing her story to raise awareness of childhood cancer. To find out more visit https://www.clicsargent.org.uk

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