Memories of Max - A Father's Story

Chapter 1 - Admission

Home

I was still in wonderland and did not realise what was going on. For me this had gone from serious to 'Deadly Serious' but I still did not really comprehend the situation. Dr Patel’s words hinted at fearsome scenarios but he had still not told us what was wrong with Max. I was about to launch into a barrage of questions when Sara spoke. Her voice wavered.

"Are you telling us Max has leukaemia?"

"Yes, I am very very sorry but your son has leukaemia."

I reeled at this statement. This is like being hit by a freight train, this is a hammer the size of a house with you as the anvil. This is the end of your life as you knew it. This does not happen to you. These are other people’s problems. This is a tidal wave so big you cannot see the crest. This is not believable.

There is a great chasm which opens beneath you, dangerously beckoning. You try to resist, to deny your senses, but it is there and it is real. Into it slides your life, your wife, your daughter, your job, your career, your hopes and aspirations and everything you’ve ever worked for and believed in. In the space of a couple of seconds, which are stretched out like an eternity, your life slides into this vast gaping hole. Into the abyss, before all of these things, slides your dear beloved son. There is nothing you can do, no get-out clause, no parachute, no escape. No-one can be prepared for this.

Sometime before Max was diagnosed, about a year beforehand, I remember reflecting on my life. They were good reflections. I had a little boy and little girl. I remember thinking how lucky we were to have children at all, and to have one of each sex was just the "Bee’s Knees." I was in a well paid job I really enjoyed and found challenging and rewarding. Unusual. Life was good.

Life had changed since then. We now had problems.

All the good things, all the bad, they all slipped into the black hole.

We had a barrage of questions for Dr Patel. Both Sara and I were beside ourselves. What were Max’s chances of survival? How did this happen? As far as I was concerned this was a death sentence. I did not realise that leukaemia was curable. As a child I had known that leukaemia meant certain death and I did not realise the vast advances which had been made in the treatment of the illness.

Click here if you would like details of how to buy a copy of the book