Hugo’s Story

One Day Cancer, You Will Be a Dot

Today it has been 2 years, 4 months and 5 days since Hugo was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia.  

The significance of this day?

He was 2 years, 4 months and 5 days old at the time of diagnosis.

This means that today, he has been fighting cancer for half his life. Tomorrow, more than half his little life will have been spent on this journey, on this battle. It will be 10 months after his treatment finishes, when he will be over 6 years old, before the balance swings back.

At the moment cancer feels like a mountain in Hugo’s life, in all our lives. Huge and all consuming, filling our every moment with its sheer size. A constant and unwelcome presence. But I know, I have to believe, it won’t always be this way. That there will come a time when cancer will no longer be a mountain, but instead a mere dot. One day we will be able to look back, when the balance has well and truly shifted, and see cancer as a small dot on our otherwise rich and wonderful lives.

I do not want this experience to define Hugo, he is so much more than his illness and he will go on to be even more, but we will never be able to forget, the dot will always be there, however small. My hope is that it helps to shape him, that there are positives to be taken from this otherwise horrible experience. That it is teaching him empathy and compassion. I hope it is showing him how strong and resilient he is. That different is good and you can fight a great battle with love in your heart and a smile on your face.

I look forward to a time when he has conquered the mountain, when he will be able to look back and see how far he has come. I hope he won’t feel sadness or anger at the difficulties he faced, but pride at how much he was able to overcome. That he will be able to draw strength and courage from his experience to help him face the inevitable obstacles and difficulties of life.

I hope as parents we have taught him what we have learnt, to see joy in the ordinary, to find light in the darkness and to not take anything for granted. I hope he feels the love and support that constantly surrounds him and that it continues to bring him comfort and strength.

I wish for so much for Hugo. A life full of love, happiness and adventure. A chance at normality, of the ordinary as well as the spectacular. I hope this experience will not dull his spark. That his kind, caring and beautifully sweet natured personality continues to grow and flourish, that his smile and cheeky sense of humour is not tainted or diminished by the length and toughness of this journey. But mostly I wish for him a life unencumbered by the fear and worry that cancer brings. A life free from the constant presence of a mountain that he didn’t ask for and most certainly didn’t deserve.

I don’t want to wish the time away, these are tough months and years, but there is joy too. We may be facing a mountain, but there are opportunities to stop, to take a breath and appreciate the view. We can be thankful that we are in a position to climb and to have been given hope that one day we will reach the summit. So for now, we will keep putting one foot in front of the other, we will keep climbing. We will have faith that there will come a day when the balance has shifted and the mountain is a distant memory. 

Because, one day cancer, one day you will be a dot.

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