KEEPING it together for Maddie, staying calm in front of her so she would not get scared during treatment is the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life, writes MICHELLE SHURMER.

You can’t think about yourself; you have to do what’s right for your child.

Still now, I try to be positive, not to worry even when I think about the cancer coming back. It’s my job as her mum to keep that stress from her. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s been through enough. And if it comes back, we will deal with it then.

It’s been three years since Maddie was diagnosed; she was six years old.

She complained that her neck was a little sore but I didn’t make much of it – she was never a poorly child. But I noticed big lumps on each side of her neck. It was a Sunday so I took her to A&E. No-one seemed worried so they sent us to the walk-in centre at the hospital. I remember asking the nurse there, is it the ‘C word’? I didn’t want to say the word ‘cancer’ in front of Maddie. She just said Maddie must be getting over a virus.

We went to the GP the next day for a blood test but the doctor just reiterated what the nurse had said: That it was just a virus and not cancer. We decided taking her bloods was not necessary.

On Thursday, we had an appointment at the Great Western Hospital – Maddie was born with sweaty palms and feet and was being treated regularly for it. The doctor took one look at her and said we needed to do a blood test and X-ray. I didn’t think it was anything serious. We had been told again and again it wasn’t cancer.

It was Hallowe’en so we were at home carving pumpkins when we got a call an hour later saying we needed to come back to the hospital. All they said was that it had something to do with her white blood cells.

I had Maddie and my daughters Florence and Willow, who were four and six months old at the time, with me. When I got there they wouldn’t tell me anything until my husband Andy had arrived. All I remember is six doctors in the room and I thought, ‘This is serious’. I just lost my temper and asked them to tell me what was going on.

When they told me, all I could think was, ‘Oh my God, it’s cancer’. I cried. I just told Maddie she had poorly blood, I didn’t want to scare her.

Treatment had an 85 per cent success rate and I focused on that. I didn’t give up one bit. I knew she was going to get through it, no matter what.

From that moment things happened very fast. She was transferred to John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford for chemotherapy and she started on November 4, 2013.

She had T-cell leukaemia, one of the more aggressive forms. The most difficult part for her was when she lost her hair. She was very upset and it was horrible to see her like this. So I asked my husband to shave my head on impulse. I just wanted to show her it didn’t matter. She coped really well. She was amazing and we all drew strength from her. Maddie held us together. She insisted on going to school through treatment.

Even when she was weak from the drugs, struggled to walk and I had to take her in a wheelchair, she still asked to go to Ferndale Community Primary School. The school was incredible to her. She is just one of these kids who don’t want to miss out on anything.

She is such a strong girl, and stubborn. That helped her. She was determined to stay in control. Once, I was discussing her treatment with her doctors and Maddie said, ‘It’s happening to me, talk to me about it.’ She used to take her cannulas out when she was just six years old and she changed her own dressings. She is the one who decided to get surgery to remove her wiggly, the line they used for her chemo.

She was in remission three weeks into the treatment but she still had to have chemo for two years and three months to make sure she didn’t relapse. Her last day of chemo was February 24, 2016. It was an incredible day but at the same time it was difficult for me. What kept the cancer away was the treatment and I worried it would come back without it. It felt like having your safety blanket whipped away. When she had her first temperature I sat and stared at her to see how she was doing. It was nothing, it’s normal for a child to get poorly sometimes. But after cancer you always worry.

I couldn’t have managed without the help of amazing charities: CALM, Starlight Children’s Foundation– who sent our whole family on a fabulous trip to Lapland last December – and the Rainbow Trust. Through CALM, I met parents with children going through the same thing as Maddie. You can’t talk to your friends about your child’s bloods or their medication, they don’t understand. But these people did.

As a parent it’s hard to juggle everything and find a balance with your children. I had to give up my job as a recruitment consultant. Leukaemia changed our lives.

The Rainbow Trust provided a support worker to help me with my daughters. When Maddie needed chemotherapy, she would pick up Florence from school or take her to school. Maddie’s cancer really hit Florence hard. She worried she might get cancer and she still thinks that when she gets aches and pains. I had to explain to her that Maddie had it but it didn’t necessarily mean she would too. She is doing much better now.

Maddie is so cheeky and lively and loving to her two sisters. She wants to be a nurse now, because of everything she’s been through and help other kids.

I still can’t believe it’s really happened to us. I still panic when we plan day trips and I have to push myself to do things. I don’t think it’s ever going to be over; I’m always going to worry.

What really matters to me now is for my children to be healthy. Material things don’t mean anything anymore. I just want to enjoy every single moment with them. I just take things one day at a time.