Memories of Max - A Father's Story

Chapter 2 - The Unit

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On Sunday, the day after his initial diagnosis, Max was admitted to the Wolfson Children’s Cancer Unit at the Royal Marsden Hospital. Sara and Max went to the Unit by ambulance. I followed later because I was very tired and numb from the previous day and night at the local hospital. I went home for a bath, to get clothes and also to attempt to prepare for the unknown during the days to follow.

I vividly remember walking through the hospital to the Unit. The corridors were typically institutionalised, drab and boring. I remember seeing signs which hinted at strange treatments and conditions. Many of them were a mystery and frightened me. What was this strange world which surely was to become part of our new day to day life? I realised that I knew nothing about cancer or its treatment. Would I become an expert in the coming days or weeks? Would there be days or weeks? How long could Max survive? I came to a colourfully painted sign with pictures of a jungle and wild animals and the ominous words - The Children’s Cancer Unit.

I walked into an open foyer which was bright with natural light and found the door to the Unit. I pressed the buzzer but there was no response. Eventually the door was opened remotely and I walked into this new world full of apprehension. The Unit was so quiet. The silence struck me, as did the bright curtains and pictures on the wall and the bright light which was in such contrast to the corridors that I had just walked through. That day the silence reminded me of a morgue. I did not know what to expect but the eerie quietness was disturbing.

The silence was unusual. Even on a Sunday the Unit is usually busy but not as busy as on other days. It was unnaturally quiet on this day because there were so few in-patients at that time. This does not happen often, but sometimes there are quiet periods when there are only a few children being treated. Usually the Unit is overwhelmed with children and currently this lack of resources is relieved by treating many of the children in outreach hospitals.

Max was conscious and sitting up in bed though still visibly very ill. This was a huge step forward from the previous day. He was weak but managed to smile as I entered the ward. He proudly showed me the intravenous line which passed into a vein in his arm to enable drugs to be given and blood samples to be taken. He told me how horrible the line insertion had been.

Sara and I had so many questions for the nurse but very few could be answered. It needed several days of tests before the hospital could start to tell us the way forward regarding both the exact nature of Max's cancer and the consequent treatment. The nurse showed us round and started to inaugurate us into the procedures and life of the Unit. We were, however, completely numb and very little information was absorbed in those early days.

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