Not all heroes wear capes; mine beat cancer

LA, July 2013

Today is World Cancer Day. It’s an international day to raise awareness of cancer and encourage its prevention, detection, and treatment. Since it’s such an important day, I wanted to share the story of my hero who bravely battled cancer when he was just 11 years old.

It’s been 10 years now, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. The smell of the ward, the broken parents, and the sick children clinging onto life with all their strength.

My brother had been unwell for a while before he was admitted to hospital in Glasgow. My parents had taken him to the GP, and because he was short of breath, he was handed an inhaler and sent on his way.

At first, we had no reason at all to question it. Why would we? The doctor said he had asthma so we assumed that was the correct diagnosis. It wasn’t until a few days before he was taken into hospital that we knew something was really wrong. I remember him being really upset because he didn’t feel well, but he couldn’t explain what was actually wrong. 

A few days after that we were told he had non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

Not only did he have cancer, but he had a tumour the size of a large grapefruit in his chest. The shortness of breath that the GP thought was asthma was a tumour that had been pushing against his lungs for months. 

This was the moment our whole world fell apart. I can’t put into words how it felt when we were given his diagnosis. It was the worst day of my entire life, and nothing has come close that feeling since.

I remember meeting my dad outside the hospital so he could take me up to my brother’s ward. He gave me a hug and broke down. It was the first time I had ever seen him cry and it was heartbreaking. Once we got up to his ward, it took me over an hour to stop crying before I was able to pull myself together enough to be able to go into his room. 

The next 12 months went by in a blur. That’s right; he was in hospital for a full year. Despite the size of his tumour, the cancer wasn’t terminal and it didn’t spread. I guess you could say we were lucky, if it’s possible to ever be lucky in that situation. That doesn’t mean it was an easy ride though. Chemotherapy is horrible, and I can’t explain what it’s like to watch your little brother go through it. 

My brother had all the usual side effects, but there were some I wasn’t prepared for. He was unable to eat so had to be fed through a tube in his nose, and soon became unable to walk which meant he spent a year doing physiotherapy when he left hospital so he could learn to walk again.

The toughest time came about eight months into his treatment when he spent a few weeks on a ventilator in intensive care due to an infection. There was a staff member at his beside the entire time while he was hooked up to every machine possible. All we could do was sit at his bedside and hold his hand hoping that his body would be able to fight the infection enough for him to wake up.

Despite all the bad days, we did have a few good ones too. I remember seeing him smile for the first time in weeks when some Stormtroopers came into his ward, and on another occasion when we convinced TGI Friday’s to give us a takeaway of his favourite meal because he wasn’t able to leave the hospital. My 22nd birthday also fell between his courses of chemotherapy so he was feeling well enough to come home for a few days which was the best birthday present I could ever have asked for. 

I still get asked how I coped a lot. The truth is, I didn’t really cope at all. I would pull myself together whenever I was at the hospital using every last bit of energy to fight back to tears, just so he wouldn’t see me cry. Then I would go home and cry myself to sleep night after night. 

As horrible as it was for me, it was nothing compared to what he went through. I can’t even begin to imagine how I would cope with cancer now at the age of 31, let alone with I was an 11 year old child. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words just how much he went through, and how brave he was. It’s the kind of thing I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy, so just imagine how hard it is to watch someone you love go through it.  

One thing I struggled with a lot was feeling guilty. I was the big sister and it was my job to protect him from the big bad world outside. I was 21 years old and completely healthy, and I would have swapped places with him in a heartbeat if I could have. 

It might have seemed like we were stuck in a never-ending nightmare at times, but I’m pleased to tell you that this story has a happy ending. After a year in hospital, he went back to school and this summer he will be graduating from university!!! I don’t think any of my family will ever quite get over what happened, but seeing how far my brother has come definitely helps us all to move on. 

So this World Cancer Day I want to pay tribute to my amazing brother. It’s true what they say, not all heroes wear capes. Mine beat cancer and he’s the only hero I need.