‘Shit happens’ is the saying when things suddenly go awry.
Shit happened to us last week when our grandson Liam was diagnosed with acute leukemia.

He’s in Wellington. We are in Otaki and the first desire is to rush down, sweep him up in your arms to protect and comfort him. The second desire is to do the same for our own children, his father and his aunt, to comfort them and keep them safe. The fear for their safety is always there.

And then the reality to you own body sets in and one is overwhelmed with grief, with fear, with impotence. The fidgeting starts with the inability to settle down and do anything. Even thinking of cooking the dinner is a problem. Restless, always on the move flitting from one room to another, sitting down, getting up and pacing, pacing, pacing.

The need for more information becomes paramount. As usual Google is there to help overwhelming us with bald facts. But nothing beats the sitting down with Liam’s father and listening to what he says, what the doctors have told him and Liam and how everyone is managing with this new and horrible discovery called Leukemia.

It is a dreadful disease. It takes no prisoners and kills within weeks.
The staff at Wellington Hospital are exemplars of care and attention. They are forthright with the diagnosis, positive about the treatment, resolute about the prognosis and looking forward to a good result. They are above all honest and that is exactly what a family needs – honesty with compassion and the plan forward.

Our family is blessed. We have grandparents, mother, father, aunt, uncle and stepmother all there to give the combined strength to Liam. We will all be lining up to offer our blood, our bone marrow if needed. We will shave our heads in solidarity if he wants us to when his hair falls out and we will be with him 24/7 when required.

This will be a grim 6 months. There will be times when Liam is in hospital and we cannot do anything but be there. There will be times when he is at home and we can be there with all our love and support. Liam has told us he doesn’t want us to cry in his presence or to smoother him. There will be periods when he will laugh with us and periods when he wants to just sleep the next 6 months away. What we can do is love him, hold his hand and help him find his own path through this.

This 16 year old kid has shown strength of character often not found in teenagers. I am in awe of him. I salute him and will be there for him.

So over the next few months when things are at their grimmest we will all be looking to the rainbow and we will be there at its end for the pot of gold which is Liam’s total cure.