Factual Storytelling Assessment

Battle Scars: A Tale of Childhood Cancer 

There is a post card hanging up in Maddy Ryan’s room quoting the great Nelson Mandela. “There are few misfortunes in the world that you cannot turn into a personal triumph if you have the iron will and the necessary skill.” It’s an interesting poster choice for a teenager but perhaps these words resonate with Maddy more than most. After all, she is a cancer survivor and has endured more hardship at 15 years old than most people do in a lifetime.

In September 2010, Maddy then thirteen was having scans on her left leg, thinking the diagnosis would be shin splints. As a competitive gymnast who trained 20 hours per week, an injury like this was pretty normal. So, when the doctors at the Royal Brisbane Children’s Hospital sat her down to explain she actually had bone cancer, her world as she knew it changed forever.

“When the doctors told me I had cancer I got this sick feeling in my stomach and started crying. The first thing I asked my doctor was ‘am I going to die?’ He reassured me they were confident they could cure me. I felt like that wasn’t enough though.”

Even as she recalls this harrowing experience Maddy doesn’t show much emotion. Her eyes are fixed ahead and she gives extremely eloquent answers for someone so young. The only hint of discomfort I notice comes from her constantly fidgeting hands. Despite her obvious strength of mind, her body is still frail and recovering from the effects of chemo and a new knee joint.

Just four days after the initial diagnosis came the first of 20 rounds of chemotherapy. The drugs that were helping ‘make her better’ made Maddy so nauseous that she couldn’t even look at food. Her body was sapped of every of last ounce of energy and there were days when she never left her hospital bed. Mum, Janine, stayed by her daughter’s bedside throughout the entire ordeal and even left her job to care for Maddy.

“There was no other option and I would do it again in a heartbeat. It’s emotionally draining watching your child feel so sick, it’s the worst thing I’ve experienced as a parent.” explains Janine.

A long scar on Maddy’s left shin and knee are evidence of the eight hour surgery that saved her leg. Had the cancer spread any further Maddy would have been faced with the task of learning to use a prosthetic leg.

“As soon as I woke up I asked Mum if I still had both of my legs. I was high from the pain killers and my legs were numb from the anaesthetic. I cried when they showed me they were still there.”

Instead she was given a new knee joint and part of her shin bone is now titanium. She is known as ‘Robo girl’ amongst doctors at RBCH and thanks to her $75,000 leg she is literally one of the most valuable teenagers walking around Brisbane. That’s right; she’s walking again and is not impartial to walking on her hands either. It’s an ex-gymnast’s habit she just can’t kick.

“Even though I can’t do competitive gym(nastics) anymore I’m glad I can at least do school gym. I’m just grateful I have two legs,” says Maddy, a sincere look of gratitude enveloping her face.

Her comment is thought provoking and forces me to reflect upon my own attitude towards life. A silence lingers in the air and I make a vow to appreciate the simpler privileges I have. Perhaps sensing the impact of her words, Maddy looks awkwardly around the room. She doesn’t like people feeling sorry for her; in fact, it’s one of her pet hates. Maddy insists that people have no reason to feel sorry for her, especially now that she is in remission. She has the gruelling nine month post-surgery chemo regime to thank for that.

The ‘R’ word in the world of oncology brings both a sense of sheer relief and uncertainty to the families and patients. There are no guarantees that the cancer won’t re- invade the body. Not until the long awaited ‘five years cancer free’ milestone is made are families able to relax and pull down their ‘cancer relapse’ radar. Five years is when Maddy can finally say ‘I don’t have cancer anymore.’ Until that day though, Maddy vows to live as normally as her body will allow her to. She is ready to move on with her life, a process that has already begun.

Not only has her hair grown back, but with it has come an offer from a prestigious Brisbane modelling agency. They didn’t even notice the scar on her leg.

 “At first I hated being the only one with short hair. The modelling scout said it brought out my features and since then I’ve grown to accept it,” she admits. 

It looks as though Maddy will have to throw out her collection of twelve scarves she once used to hide her bald head. If she has it her way there will be a ceremonial ‘burning of the scarves’ in the backyard and she’ll never look back.

Besides, Maddy has too much to look forward to in the next little while to even think about what she’s been through. An all- expense paid trip to Paris, courtesy of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, is on the cards in the next two weeks. It will be a holiday well deserved for the entire Ryan clan and a chance to re-charge the batteries worn out from Maddy’s two year battle. I have to laugh though, when Maddy reveals the sense of humour that helped her get through treatment. The story of how she came to choose her ‘wish’ is a crack-up.

“Make-A-Wish said I could ask for anything and at first I just said I wanted an iPad. After a while I thought, actually l can do better than that, how about a trip to Paris?” Maddy grins with a ‘why not?’ shrug of the shoulders.

Although she refuses to accept the accolade, Maddy Ryan is an inspiration. The one word that makes her squirm with discomfort when used to describe her is most fitting. I can’t help but smile as I watch her leave the room, a slight limp in her step. She is a straight ‘A’ student, model, guitarist, cancer survivor and inspiration to many. If all goes well where her health is concerned, you can’t help but feel that the future is full of promise for Maddy Ryan.