Father’s Day, a day that should have been filled with joy, became one filled with fear and heartbreak. On Father’s Day 2021, Frances was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma with the MYCN amplification, an aggressive, high-risk form of cancer. He was just 10 months old. Frances’ mum, Hannah, shares their story,
Just before his diagnosis, Frances became unusually lethargic, and we noticed his eyes had started to cross. These were the warning signs—our instincts told us something was seriously wrong. As new parents, we had no idea what to expect. Nothing could have prepared us for the reality of childhood cancer.
We had spent months visiting doctors, knowing deep down that something wasn’t right.
In the end, we bit the bullet and took him to the hospital. We told ourselves, if it’s nothing we’ll have peace of mind. But only days later, our lives changed forever.
Watching Frances being pumped full of aggressive drugs in an effort to slow the cancer was absolutely heart-wrenching. His tiny body swelled up, his complexion turned grey, and his bodily fluids became so toxic he had to be sponge-bathed every time his nappy was changed.
We lived in the hospital for weeks on end, spending long nights by his bedside, staring at the monitors to check his vitals while he slept through most of the days.
And when we were discharged, there was no real sense of freedom—just isolation. We had to keep away from our community for fear of infection or fever. We went from being just “Mum and Dad” to being a nurse, a carer, and a guardian constantly on high alert. Over the next 15 months, Frances endured an unimaginably intense treatment journey:
• 5 cycles (35 days) of intensive chemotherapy
• Countless blood and platelet transfusions
• 4 surgical procedures
• 5 weeks in bone marrow transplant isolation
• 15 rounds of radiation therapy
• 5 cycles (50 days) of immunotherapy
• 6 cycles (84 doses) of oral chemotherapy
• Endless dressing changes, blood tests, and scans
• Ongoing monitoring for at least the next 5 years
Neuroblastoma robbed our family of so many precious moments. We celebrated Frances’ first steps in a hospital corridor.
He spent both his first and second birthdays confined to a hospital room. These are milestones we should have been celebrating at home – not in a cancer ward.
Despite everything, Frances has beaten the odds. But the toll has been unimaginable.
One of the most devastating outcomes was the loss of Frances’ sight – something that might have been prevented if we had known what we were dealing with earlier. That’s why we are so passionate about raising awareness and supporting research. More research means earlier diagnoses, better treatments, fewer life-altering side effects, and most importantly – more lives saved.
Despite all that he’s been through, Frances is here – smiling, laughing, full of joy. It’s almost impossible to believe we came so close to losing him. We are eternally grateful, but we know that other families may not be so lucky. We are sharing Frances’ story to help raise awareness of this devastating disease.
