"Then"

I remember exactly when I was told, and it still plays through my head.

He had been getting sicker and sicker for months. He was quite an active kid, playing a lot of sport and constantly hanging out with friends. But as time progressed he grew more and more tired, got more bruises and lost a ton of weight.

My mother was very concerned and took him to numerous doctors, which had all diagnosed him with arthritis. Unfortunately, this was not the case and his situation worsened.

A few weeks later, my brother could not even get out of bed, and my mum knew something was up. She ended up taking him to other doctors that specialise in certain things, for example blood disorders.

When we went for the appointment, the doctor instantly said that Alex would have to go straight to the hospital, and predicted correctly that my brother had cancer.

If he had not done so, he would have died the next day.

I remember being asked to come into the room, with Alexander in bed and numerous medical staff around him. Mum brought me onto her knee and said ‘Annie, Alexander has cancer’. I burst out crying and said ‘I don’t want him to die’ – a childish 12 year old there!

From there, years of treatment took place – in and out of the children’s hospital. Unfortunately it is all a blur, although maybe that's a fortunate thing as I can forget the horrible scenes and pain that shook our family for months and months.

"Being a younger sibling, and even a younger sister, I found it incredibly hard"

He was my older brother, he was the one that would play-fight with me or help me out. Now, being incredibly sick, the tables had turned. I would help mum out, pack bags for her while she stayed there, try and entertain him and just try and help out. But I was young, and the youngest out of both, I still also craved attention. I remember being a very unruly child, and I now am very embarrassed at the way I acted.

I know I was really upset and was concerned about my brother, but I was also wanting my own attention and love from my mum. I know that if the same story happened now, it would be completely different.

I remember thinking that I wished it was me, that I would want to take his place. I suppose it shows how deep sibling love is. I still would do it. The treatment effects, mainly mentally, still plague my brother, and even so with my mother and I, and I know that I would want to take that burden so that he could have a different life.

"And Now"

It has now been nearly ten years since we were told and things have definitely changed. Alex’s treatment went on for many years, there were a lot of complications but now he is full remission. He has no severe physical impairment from the treatment, which surprises me! Although, I feel that he has suffered a lot mentally from his journey.

He had his treatment during the main stage of teenagerdom, when you fill into your body, start dating girls and become a dude. Unfortunately, always being in hospital he was late into that, and I think that his confidence and self-worth are completely skewed. He seems to think really negatively about himself and about life.

It’s totally understandable - to be thrown a massive curveball about mortality at age 16 would shake anyone for years to come.

One good thing that has come out of this journey is that we have become a stronger unit. We get along much better, we hang out and I think that what challenges you, makes you stronger.