When James mentioned to his mum during story time that his vision in one eye looked blurry, it didn\u2019t seem like much at first. He had a cold. It was winter. His mum, Naomi, who works is an occupational therapist, thought it could be connected. Still, something didn\u2019t feel quite right.<\/p>\n
A few days later, she took him to their local emergency department in Geelong. \u201cI honestly thought it would be nothing,\u201d she says. \u201cI was messaging work, saying they were sending him for scans, with an eye roll emoji.\u201d<\/p>\n
But the scans told a different story. Doctors had found a mass behind his left eye.<\/p>\n
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Naomi and Joe were instructed to take James to The Royal Children\u2019s Hospital (RCH) first thing the next morning. The uncertainty hung heavily. \u201cCancer was one of the possibilities,\u201d Naomi says. \u201cBut there were other options too, we just didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
The following week moved slowly. Tests, scans and procedures filled the days. Then came a team meeting with all the doctors.<\/p>\n
\u201cAs soon as I saw that meeting in the calendar, I knew it wasn\u2019t a good sign,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
James was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare type of solid tumour. It was wrapped around his optic nerve, and it couldn\u2019t be removed with surgery.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was a lot,\u201d his mum says. \u201cWe found out about the tumour, the vision loss in his left eye, and even possible long-term effects all at once. It was very full-on.\u201d<\/p>\n
But there was also hope. The cancer was treatable.<\/p>\n
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Treatment began straight away, six months of intensive therapy. Every three weeks, James returned to the RCH for powerful chemotherapy.<\/p>\n
Each cycle followed a pattern, one week of treatment, one week feeling unwell, one week where his immune system was very weak, and then it would begin again.<\/p>\n
The treatment was tough, especially early on. James developed a strong fear of needles.<\/p>\n
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\u201cThere were times he wouldn\u2019t get out of the car,\u201d his mum says. \u201cHe\u2019d hold onto the pillars in the carpark, or anything he could.\u201d<\/p>\n
With support from staff, they found ways to help. Sedation during procedures made things easier, and a tough situation became a routine. And time with his dad during admissions became something special.<\/p>\n
\u201cJames, on occasion, has made comments that he misses coming here. His dad made it fun. They\u2019d play games together, and there was no bedtime while in hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n
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James also found joy in experiences outside treatment, from camps to running through the banner with the Essendon Bombers before a match.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt one point, James said, \u2018This is the best year I\u2019ve had so far,\u201d and he listed experiences and opportunities he\u2019d had with the various cancer charities. They redefined his cancer journey experience,\u201d his Mum recalls.<\/p>\n
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A few months into treatment, James had a scan to check if all that medicine, and the pain and discomfort that came along with it, was working.<\/p>\n
The oncologists had great news: the tumour had shrunk significantly. \u201cIt was that moment that I knew we were going to get a good outcome; it was such a relief.\u201d<\/p>\n
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Today, James is back at school, playing sport and keeping up with his friends. He still returns to the RCH for regular scans and follow-up appointments, but life feels more familiar again.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s doing really well,\u201d his mum says. \u201cHe\u2019s bright and happy, and he’s got a wicked sense of humour.\u201d<\/p>\n
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