Before childhood cancer became part of our lives, my son Alex and his wife Demi were building the future they had always dreamed of for their young family.
Last October, they had just moved into a lovely new home, more space for their children and closer to Demi’s parents. Alex had recently started a new job after being made redundant from Tata Steel, where he had completed his apprenticeship after leaving school. Demi had returned to work in public service following maternity leave.
Their eldest daughter, Florence, had started nursery in September. Baby sister Poppy had just turned one. As a family, they had recently enjoyed a magical trip to Disneyland Paris, a time full of joy and laughter.
Their lives were full of hopes and dreams for the future for their young family.
Then, on 31 October, without warning, everything changed.
Following a routine scan after a paediatric outpatient appointment in Bridgend, doctors discovered a tumour. Within hours, Alex, Demi, and Florence were admitted to the Children’s Hospital in Cardiff. After further tests and scans, Florence was diagnosed with Wilms tumour, a childhood cancer, and treatment began immediately.
Chemotherapy started straight away, followed by invasive procedures, transfusions and surgery. Florence has spent most days, and many nights, in hospital, with her mum and dad constantly by her side. While her prognosis is good, treatment will continue for at least a year.
As a grandmother, I have learned that the impact of childhood cancer reaches far beyond medical care.
Florence has lost weight and her hair, and she is clearly very unwell. Demi and Alex are both currently out of work to provide around the clock care for Florence. Baby sister Poppy is living with Demi’s parents. The family faces ongoing financial pressure from travel costs, food, and daily essentials.
And throughout all of this, Latch continues to walk beside them.
From the earliest days in hospital and still now, Latch has been there with reassuring conversations, a listening ear, and practical kindness, bringing coffee and cakes, stocking the kitchen so mum and dad can easily grab food, and offering comfort when the days feel relentless.
Latch’s family rooms on the cancer ward mean that Alex and Demi don’t have to travel back and forth to sleep. With bedrooms, washing facilities, bathrooms, a kitchen and shared family spaces, they are able to stay close to Florence and take turns resting, something that is essential during such an exhausting journey.
In the early days, a Latch social worker visited the family at home and brought Florence an iPad, which is used for FaceTime calls with grandparents, cousins and friends, helping her stay connected to family life while so much feels out of reach.
Latch’s support is ongoing and holistic. Although our family cannot access certain benefits, the Latch social worker wrote detailed letters to Alex and Demi’s employers explaining Florence’s diagnosis, the intensity of treatment and the instability that comes with it. She supported applications for Disability Living Allowance, helped secure grants for petrol and accommodation, and even assisted with parking fines received during hospital visits, one less thing for exhausted parents to worry about.
The challenge of keeping a 3-year-old occupied is exacerbated by the confinement to the ward over often weeks-long hospital stays, so play sessions have been vital to help keep Florence entertained. She especially likes the visits Latch organises from Spark Lab, who bring in science activities for the children to take part in, and allow her to play and get messy and learn new things about the world.
During Florence’s treatment, she needed specialist surgery and spent a week in a hospital in England. Alex and Demi said it felt very different without Latch. The emotional and practical wraparound support they had come to rely on wasn’t there, and it was a difficult week for all of us. Returning to Cardiff felt like coming home, familiarity, understanding, and care.
This journey is not over. Florence is still in treatment. Alex and Demi are still living day by day. And Latch is still there, walking beside them, supporting them, and helping them hold on to hope when the road feels long.
