At the beginning of September in 2013, Henry came to me and told me he thought he had cancer. He'd been complaining for the last week of a numb chin, severe pain in his jaw, and showed me a growth on his forehead. Henry had Googled these symptoms, and each suggested website which came up showed they were major warnings of the first signs of cancer and to seek medical attention immediately. I reassured Henry that the likelihood was that it wasn't cancer;he was young, fit and healthy, but, to put his mind at rest, and to rule it out, I would make an appointment for him to see the Doctor, which he did the next day.

Henry presented his symptoms, and told his GP he thought it was cancer. His GP told him his symptoms were not cancer, and referred him for an x-ray for the growth on his skull. Henry was advised to see his dentist regarding the pain in his jaw. It would appear that the numbness in Henry's chin along with the jaw pain were presumed symptoms of his wisdom teeth coming through. Henry was prescribed ibuprofen for the pain (which is never given to cancer patients as it prevents platelets forming).

At the GP's request, we made another appointment for Henry to see his Dentist and this time he had x-rays taken. It is recorded in Henry's dental notes that Henry was reassured that it was nothing serious.

Over the next 4 days, Henry's symptoms worsened; the jaw pain became more intense, and the numbness in his chin spread. He also now had pain in his lower lip, which was visibly swollen. His teeth were also very mobile. Henry attended another appointment with his Dentist for a filling, and again presented the worsening of his symptoms to his Dentist. Henry was again advised to see his orthodontist, which he already had an appointment for.

Henry was now starting to complain of dizzy spells, night sweats, and loss of hearing in one ear (which we later discovered was due to internal bleeding in his inner ear), along with the worsening of his original symptoms, which now also included severe sharp pains in his inner cheeks, so I took him to A&E, as the pain was so intense, and he needed immediate strong pain relief. Henry and I both went in together, and we both presented all of his symptoms to a triage nurse. The triage nurse asked if he was on any prescribed medication, and I told her he was taking ibuprofen. I asked if he might be having an allergic reaction to the ibuprofen? Henry was administered anti-histamine for allergic reactions, and asked to sit outside in the waiting room. After 40 minutes, I told Henry to continue to wait, as I needed to return home. Henry came home about an hour later. He said no one had spoken to him, and the pain was a little better, so presumed the anti-histamine had worked.

However, the following afternoon Henry was in need again of urgent strong pain relief for the same, worsening symptoms. Adrian took Henry back  to A&E, and again presented all of his symptoms. Henry was administered steroids.

The following morning, as Henry's symptoms were still worsening, and he was still in severe pain, Adrian made an urgent appointment for that day for Henry to see his GP. Again, both Henry and Adrian presented all of Henry's symptoms, and Adrian appealed to the GP that something was seriously wrong; Henry was suffering with pain, and had an increasing variety of symptoms which were only getting worse. It is recorded in Henry's GP notes that he had a pulse of100bpm. Again, Henry was turned away with a referral. Adrian called Henry's dentist, and again, he was turned away with a referral.

The next day Henry had an outpatient appointment in Hospital for the referred x-ray regarding the growth of skull bone. Henry was told that his GP would be informed of the results, and would be in touch. The results from Henry's x-rays are recorded in his GP notes as 'Normal - No Action'; it was in fact the lymphoma. Later that evening, Henry complained that his urine was a little discoloured.

The following morning of Saturday 21st September, Henry showed me his urine. It was red with blood. I took him straight to A&E where he was finally given a blood test and a suspected diagnosis of Leukaemia. He was also given a pool of platelets, as his platelet count was 6. At about 7pm that evening, he was transferred to Guy's Hospital. From this point on, we never left Henry's side. Later that evening, the Doctor said he strongly suspected Henry was suffering from a rare form of cancer called Burkitt's Lymphoma which only affects one in one million people in this country, but could not make a diagnosis until after the official tests had been carried out, and unfortunately, as it was the weekend, that diagnosis could not be carried out until Monday morning as that particular department didn't operate over the weekend. Unfortunately for Henry, his disease didn't take that into consideration.

Two days later, on Monday 23rd September, Henry was finally officially diagnosed with Burkitt's Lymphoma. His first treatment was a dose of steroids, which he was to be given at midnight in the form of an oral tablet. By this time, Henry was complaining of feeling head achey, and his communication was beginning to become a little slow. He sat up in bed and took the tablet, which he immediately vomited back up.

It wasn't until 6.30am the following morning, Tuesday 24th September, that he was finally given the steroid intravenously. Over the course of the day, Henry seemed to become more unresponsive and sleepy. He was given a CT scan which was showing small bleeds around his brain. After checking his reflexes, Dr Beale noted that only the right side of his body was responding.

The following morning, Wednesday 25th September, Henry was administered Factor 7 (normally reserved for haemophiliac patients) in an effort to stop the internal bleeding in his brain. Kings College Hospital were informed of Henry's condition. Over the next few hours, Henry's condition worsened. His brain was swelling with the bleeding, and at 9pm he was transferred to Kings College Hospital for an emergency craniotomy procedure to remove part of his skull to save his life.

The following morning, the ward registrar sat myself and Adrian down, and told us that Henry had suffered a double brain hemorrhage. Due to the position, nature and extent of the bleeds, he didn't hold out much hope, and if he ever did wake up, he would never be the same again. Henry spent the next month in an induced coma. When he finally came around, it appeared that the ward registrar was wrong; Henry had a tracheostomy in place and so couldn't talk, but was showing some normal responsive signs. As he gradually continued to recover, the extent of how he'd been affected by his double brain hemorrhage and neuro surgery became more apparent. He'd lost his hearing which he never regained. His vision was impaired, but this did improve a little. He couldn't move the left side of his body, but after four months was beginning to show signs of minor movement. When the tracheostomy was removed, he continued to have no voice as his vocal chords were paralysed, and because of this, his swallow was weak and he was given food through a line which was later replaced with a stomach peg. The damage to his vocal chords did improve a little; four months later, he was eating soft food and could manage a loud audible whisper.Although Henry was on a program of physiotherapy whilst in Hospital, he remained bed bound.

Haematology had continued their chemotherapy program, and on Tuesday 22nd October, we were told Henry was in remission. After spending about a month and a half in the Surgical Critical Care Unit at Kings College Hospital, he was transferred to a private room on their Haematology Ward. Henry completed 5 rounds of chemotherapy in total. Each time he had chemotherapy, he became critically ill as a result of it. The Haematology nurse told me that because Henry was bed bound, he was what they phrase 'a sitting duck' to infections. After initially being transferred to the ward, he was back in medical critical care after just ten days.  He had ongoing infections in his lungs and contracted pneumonia three times whilst he was neutropenic, and when he was due his sixth round of chemotherapy, the ward registrar had meetings with other Doctors and Heads of Departments, who all agreed that Henry could and should take a two week break from his chemotherapy, as they feared he wouldn't survive his next scheduled round.

After the two week break, just before Henry was due his sixth round, blood tests showed signs that his Leukaemia had returned. I asked the Doctor how long we had, and he told me 1, possibly 2 weeks. We asked to have his hearing looked at so that he would be able to hear our voices again before he died, and Kings arranged this, but unfortunately the specialists put it down to nerve damage during the craniotomy. We asked if he could come home for the day, and Kings also arranged this on Friday 7th February. Henry was so happy to be home again and sang "We are the champions" in a loud whisper, which I video'd, and went onto facebook, updating his status to "Henry-1; Cancer-0". The very next day, his original symptoms started to come back, with aggression.

On Thursday13th February around 7pm, Henry's monitors showed his oxygen levels falling. He was bleeding into his lungs. I tried to reassure him, as the crash team came in to respond to the emergency, but he looked at me and mouthed the words, "Mum- I can't breathe". He was sedated and wheeled away to critical care,where the Doctors worked hard to remove the blood from his lungs.

The next morning, 14th February 2014, Adrian and I went in to see Henry.  The Doctors had managed to clear his lungs,and brought him out of sedation. We were just about to go in and see him when the bleeding started again. His friends had also turned up to see him, but never got to. By the time we went in, he was again under sedation. I held him very tight, and said in his ear "OK Henry, it's about time that miracle started to kick in..." and I really thought it would. I held him tightly all day, and the monitors were showing signs of good progress, but as the evening came,the Doctor told me that although on the surface everything seemed to be looking good, his blood gasses were becoming very acidic, and his blood pressure and pulse would eventually slow down and stop. At 8pm, Henry passed away in my arms. My brave boy, he'd suffered so much, and fought so hard.