Please Tell Me This Isn’t The Beginning Of The End

dellanienash9
Apr 9
4 min read

Updated: Apr 9

How long is a piece of string? 🤷🏼‍♀️🧵

Apparently, that’s the consultant-approved answer when it comes to Maya’s recovery…

But sorry, I’m not accepting that energy 🙅🏼‍♀️

Maya WILL walk again.

I don’t know how.

I don’t know when.

But I know she will 💪✨

And last week? It felt like a tiny slice of “normal”life again… and honestly, it felt really good to be back 🥹

I got to do the job I actually love doing again 💻❤️

Saturday morning, I went on a proper morning walk with Terry and Honey 🐕 through the Kent countryside 🌳🐶

And now… hold onto your hats…

WE WENT SHOPPING AT TESCO. 🛒😂

After 5 months in hospital, Tesco genuinely feels like a luxury day out.

Who needs the Maldives when you’ve got Clubcard prices? 😅

Living the dream, one aisle at a time. 💁🏼‍♀️✨

But in all seriousness… Easter weekend was our first proper weekend home, and for a little while, we tried so hard to hold onto “normal.”

Maya spent time in the park (Hythe Martello Lakes) where she used to ride the zip wire.

She went to the dog park and even tried to throw the ball for Honey to fetch.

On Easter Monday, Terry and I walked with Maya and Honey from home in Palmarsh Avenue all the way to Sainsbury’s in Hythe — it took us long 45 minutes to get there. I thought London roads were bad, but here in Hythe are worse. Absolutely not wheelchair friendly pavements/footpaths. On the way back, we took the bus to see how accessible the public transport is for Maya. It was manageable but only because Terry was with me. Maya on a wheelchair in a public transport is not an easy feat.

But honestly? Even those simple little moments felt priceless.

Fresh air. A dog walk. A supermarket trip. Tiny pieces of ordinary life that most people wouldn’t think twice about… but for us, they felt huge!

But behind those moments, the reality hit us hard.

Tuesday 7th April 2026

Video call with the Research Team at 5:00pm.

Maya’s recent MRI head and whole spine on 27th March showed that the lesion in the thoracic area at T9/T10, which was 7mm in December 2025, has now grown in depth to 15mm.

To say we feel despondent is an understatement.

It feels like every time we dare to breathe, cancer finds another way to steal that breath from us.

Now Maya has to go back to GOSH for more tests, including:

15th April- Bone marrow aspirates and trephine under general anaesthetic; MiBG contrast dye injection
16th April - MIBG scan under GA, and ultrasound scan abdomen

These tests will tell us whether this is still just one single lesion — and if it is, there may still be a possibility of targeted radiotherapy.

But if more lesions are found elsewhere…

I’m terrified to even say it out loud.

Because the truth is, we may be running out of options. 😭

Chemotherapy is not the best option right now because Maya’s bone marrow is still recovering from the immunology modulators and high-dose steroids, which heavily suppressed it. These treatment were necessary to tackle

CRS, ICANS and HLH after Maya had severe adverse reactions to the Car T cell therapy infusion in November 2025. We’ve been told that bone marrow recovery may still take another six months.

And yet… if you know Maya, you know she has never given up.

She has fought through pain most adults could never imagine.

She has fought through relapse.

She has fought through procedures, side effects, fear, and exhaustion.

And somehow, she still finds ways to smile.

So we will believe — stubbornly, fiercely, desperately — that Maya will fight this again.

I know many people have been supporting us for such a long time now, and I truly hope nobody feels charity fatigue when it comes to Maya.

Please know this:

Every donation, every share, every comment, every message, every prayer matters.

It helps with the brutal practical reality of this journey, yes…

but emotionally, it helps more than I can ever explain.

It reminds us we are not carrying this nightmare alone.

So if you can, please keep sharing Maya’s story.

Please keep donating if you’re able.

Please keep saying her name in your prayers.

Please keep believing with us.

Because we are still here.

We are still fighting.

And Maya is still so, so worthy of every chance.

As a parent, you learn to wear bravery like armour for your child… even while your heart is collapsing behind it. But stubborn hope is a powerful thing — and while Maya keeps fighting, so will we.

Sometimes being a parent means smiling through tears, standing while shattered, and choosing stubborn hope again and again — because your child is still fighting, so you must too.

To those that have asked:

PayPal to dellanie_nash@yahoo.co.uk (as a gift)

Santander

D C Nash

Sort code 09-01-36

Account 4957 9984

Reference: Maya’s Journey