This is my cancer story, about my brother Alastair. Alastair was a wonderful brother. That doesn't mean that we didn't fight like crazy. It just means that he was the most gentle and selfless person I know.
In 2006 he was completing year 11 at school and was very active, having just been selected in the First VIII rowing crew. In late October Alastair noticed swelling above his right eye and on November 4th 2006 following scans he was diagnosed with Stage 3 alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma, a very rare muscle cancer. He was 16.
He was treated at Westmead Children's hospital and his treatment involved 14 months of intense chemotherapy and radiation, including many side effects, all of which he took in his stride. During this time he also completed two HSC subjects. It was a hard year but our family banded together and hospital became part of our life. He finished treatment at the end of 2007 and enjoyed a summer of remission.
I left for an overseas trip in March 2008. After travelling for a few months, in May I received a phone call from my Dad telling me that I had to come home, and three hours later I was on a plane from the UK. On 5 May 2008 it was confirmed that Alastair had relapsed with the same cancer in his brain. We gave him high doses of chemotherapy and radiation, which caused multiple organ failure because he was so weak. It was hard being in a facility aimed at young children when Al was 18; he didn't have anyone to relate to. He was in hospital for three months in and out of ICU, but we managed to stabilise his cancer and he came home in August, against all odds.
Over the next months Al regained his strength, took up golf, resumed his social life and completed year 12 with remarkable results. He received multiple academic awards and a full scholarship to Sydney University. He was quietly determined, and the only person we knew that just got on with it, when most of us would (and did) break down and cry.
However at the end of November he started to have periods of confusion and the scans confirmed what we already knew; the cancer was back, and the prognosis poor. His deterioration from there was quite rapid. On December 30th 2008, Alastair passed away at home aged 18.
We truly believe that Alastair was sent to us as an example. He was patient, kind, compassionate and wise beyond his years. He never once complained about getting cancer, or the many difficult treatments he endured. He never complained about the strict diet we put him on, the millions of pills he had to take, or the simple fact that he couldn't have the normal teenage existence his mates were granted. He was very passionate about the specialised needs of adolescents experiencing cancer, and worked with organisations to raise awareness.
Even though Al was my younger brother, I looked up to him and admired his amazing strength and bravery. Throughout life and over the past two years especially, he carried himself with the sort of dignity and courage that I hope to one day achieve.