Louise Campbell, 30, remembers how her parents tried to maintain some normality during her leukaemia treatment. As an expectant mother, she also explains how she now finds herself looking back on her own childhood with a different perspective.
I’ve no recollection of being diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia (ALL) when I was three years old. However, I do remember a lot that followed: a mixture of difficult times, feeling poorly and - strangely - happy memories, too. I remember making friends on the children’s ward of Addenbrookes in Cambridge, where there was Amanda, the fabulous nurse, and what seemed like an endless supply of toys and teddies to play with.
For my parents, it was so important to them to try and keep as much normality as possible for me. I still went to playgroup and school, doing all the normal things a child my age would. For my brother Tom, who was six when I was diagnosed, it was a worrying, scary time. When I was first in hospital, he asked Mum if I was going to die. She explained to him that although I was poorly and would need a lot of medicine, and it would take a long time, the doctors said I’d get better.
I think that’s exactly how they tried to approach my treatment, too. They acknowledged there would be tough times but would strive for some normality for me, while of course still taking extra precautions and care, particularly when I was at risk of infection. Mum says that so much normality was maintained for me partly due to me being such a ‘spirited’ child, who wouldn’t let anyone overprotect me.
The past few years feel like they’ve been a whirlwind. I married my soulmate, Jake, in August 2019 and we’re expecting our first baby. Now, as I prepare to become a mother, I’ve started to fully realise just how different my childhood years were. Normality to me was something very different to what other children experienced, despite my parents doing a fabulous job of maintaining the status quo.
I’ve always been in awe of my parents and how they helped me, my brother and wider family through the challenging years of chemotherapy, but as I wait to welcome my baby into the world, I have a new profound admiration of how they coped. When I was born, my mum was told I had a hole in my heart (a VSD), and recently we found out our baby will have the same. Although it’s not necessarily anything to worry about, I suddenly found myself looking back on my childhood. I realised just how challenging my diagnosis and treatment must have been for my parents and found myself worrying that my baby will face the same illnesses that I did. I know that this has no medical bearing, but it was a thought I couldn’t shake.
Looking to ease my worries, we’ve had additional checks. All is okay, but I just can’t wait for my baby to arrive now. I’ve taken the time to look back on my childhood, from diagnosis 27 years ago, through to a secondary cancer and major surgery in my teenage years. I find myself hoping that my little one doesn’t go through the same - and I suppose that’s any parent’s natural instinct. Yet at the same time, I remind myself that my experiences have had no negative bearing on who I am today.
I’m happy, surrounded by wonderful people, successful (having completed school, sixth form and university), and looking forward to so many more wonderful experiences to come. That makes me feel incredibly grateful, for the support of incredible doctors, medical researchers, hospital staff and, of course, my family, throughout all the challenging moments but the many positive experiences, too.
