On the 25th June 2005 my son stood in our garden, he was on a home visit and it was his 22nd birthday. I was looking at him from out of the window, he'd been to the gym and he looked toned. fit and handsome, I remember thinking to myself,

'LADIES YOUR IN TROUBLE'

5 MONTHS LATER HE DIED.

DON'T TAKE ANYTHING FOR GRANTED.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well where do I start? I don't think Royce would have wanted everyone to know the nitty gritty bits of his illness but I know he would have wanted you to know exactly what he died from. It was a very rare form of cancer usually only affecting young afro-Caribbean people with the trait of sickle cell. He didn't have full blown sickle cell as some of you think, he didn't die from sickle cell, he died from a cancer called Renal Medullary Cancer, a cancer that at present no-one has survived.

 Up to 2008 there has been less than 100 cases diagnosed in the last ten years and most of these are in the USA. It is a newly described cancer with the first case being diagnosed in 1995 in the States. There has been just 4 cases that I know of in the UK. Two of these in Leicester, Royce was joined by little Lukey Boy in June 2007 (see the link on this site.)

It is a very aggressive cancer and spreads rapidly, usually spreading before even being properly diagnosed. It is resistant to chemotherapy. Even with chemotherapy (2 cases in the states) the outcome is very poor only prolonging life for a few months before resulting in death.

Royce took ill in August 2005 with a kidney complaint. He spent a short time in hospital and seemed to be on the mend, then he started to get other symptom's, small non specific symptom's that didn't seem to clear up. I was getting concerned about him and voiced my concern to the hospital and the prison. He was still undergoing all sorts of test. Then he took very ill one weekend at the end of November and was admitted to the Pilgrim hospital in Boston on the Monday morning.

BY THE EVENING WE KNEW HE HAD CANCER.

It then went from bad to worse. On the Tuesday of the same week we knew he had a large tumour in his right kidney, by the Friday we were told it was a very rare cancer and we both knew he had a long road in front of him before he would be well again. Royce never faltered he just joked about the chemo making him bald. I tried to stay positive for him but it was hard as I'd already learnt that chemo would probably not be an option, I still had a little hope within myself.

.I never left his side only to go out of the room to cry. Royce always knew and would ask me why I was crying and I'd answer 'because your very ill and I don't want to see you go through this' but deep down inside I knew he wouldn't pull through, I was watching him get weaker by the day.

By the Saturday I'd got him transferred to the Leicester Royal Infirmary so he could be near his family and friends. The staff there were brilliant.

He didn't want any visitors I think it was getting too emotional for him, He wasn't daft he knew he wasn't getting an better but he tried to laugh and joke and be the normal Royce as best as he could. He was finding it very hard to talk and would scribble little notes telling me how he felt and what to do.

 

 

The day before he died he ate a bowl of cornmeal porridge that Daniel his friend had bought in, 2 bowls of soup and then half a box of quality street chocolates. He'd been on a very high dose of morphine all day and was feeling dozy so the nurses propped him up in bed so he could breathe easier and made him comfy with big soft pillows all around him. He fell asleep about 11pm in his little cloud of pillows and slept all night. It was the first good nights sleep he'd had in along time. His girlfriend Dinah stayed with him and I, for the first time all week had a few hours sleep in the day room. We both needed it

I went back into him the next morning when Dinah left, he was still sleeping. I was dreading this day, it was now Tuesday, the day the doctors were giving him his final results and I knew the outcome.

THERE WAS NOTHING THEY COULD FOR HIM AND HE HAD AT THE MOST A FEW WEEKS TO LIVE.

How do you stand by and let your child hear that sort of news. I'd tried so hard to care for him and protect him like any other mother then something comes along and whisks him away from me and there was nothing I could do. I wasn't able to help him like I'd always done in the past. This was beyond me. I felt so helpless like I'd let him down.

I STOOD AT THE END OF HIS BED AND WHISPERED TO HIM, 'IF YOUR NOT GOING TO GET BETTER ROYCE THEN IT'S BEST YOU DON'T WAKE UP'

IT WAS THE ONLY TIME HE DID AS HE WAS TOLD WITHOUT AN ARGUMENT.

 

He never really woke up he just stirred and tried to get out of bed then fell asleep in my arms. It was heart breaking to watch him go but it was a relief that he didn't have to hear the final bad news, he didn't have to suffer any pain or discomfort.

THE EVIL DISEASE COULDN'T GET TO HIM ANYMORE

 (INFORMATION ON GOOGLE, TYPE IN RENAL MEDULLARY CANCER OR SEVENTH SICKLE CELL NEPHROPATHY )

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