Noah's family, Teenage Cancer Trust, Halifax and Wrexham come together

Our son Noah had been feeling terrible for a whole year by the time he was diagnosed with incurable bowel cancer. First he’d had trouble going to the loo, and no amount of dried fruit, then prescribed laxatives, had seemed to help. Then he’d stopped eating. At our wits’ end, we watched him getting scrawnier by the day. But was he anorexic? Could we believe him when he said that eating made him feel so ill? We had no idea, and it was the middle of lockdown. No one was readily available to help us – even had we known what help we needed.

We fought to get him seen by a paediatrician at our local hospital, and in the 10 days before he got there he lost a ridiculous 11 pounds. At nearly six foot he now weighed under 8 stone, had fainted several times and looked appallingly ill. “If they only see you I know they’re going to keep you in to find out what’s wrong,” I told him. “They can’t send you home again like this.” So we packed a bag to take to his appointment. The shocked consultant immediately admitted him to the ward.

The faint spots on his liver scan turned out to be cancer, already spread from a massive tumour in his bowel, and Noah was transferred to St James’s in Leeds, where he was admitted to Ward J94, the Teenage Cancer Trust ward. Not long afterwards his dad and I were called to a meeting where we were all, including Noah, told that his life would soon – certainly within the next couple of years – come to an end.

The shock was like a cannonball landing. I sat frozen, tears rolling down my cheeks, clutching Noah’s hand and trying not to sob out loud. He, by contrast, was completely dry-eyed. “It’s all right, Mum,” he said, then the three of us were silent and immobile, surrounded by a semi-circle of medical professionals, all watching us kindly but wordlessly.

That was the point at which Teenage Cancer Trust began working their particular magic to help us through the worst thing a parent can possibly imagine: a death sentence on their child.

Noah’s specialist nurse patiently everything explained medical; his social worker removed the avalanche of new paperwork and handled it herself; Noah’s educational liaison officer, played hours of Pokémon with him and talked to Leeds College, where Noah was studying music tech, to explain why he was no longer handing in his homework assignments.

They gave us a parking space in the multi-storey; they gave us access to the ‘patient hotel’ on the top floor so that we could stay with Noah but also have a break from each other sometimes (no 17-year-old wants their parents there all the time). Most importantly, they gave us their time and care, spending hours talking us through what was happening and what was likely to happen. Sometimes they had to tell us the same thing several times because we’d been too shocked to take it in on the first or second occasions.

The family room was colourful and sunny with deep squashy sofas and endless snacks. Little side-rooms were perfect for sitting staring into the middle distance while recharging your phone – or crying where no one could hear you. There was a guitar that Noah picked up and played – and I hadn’t seen him play the guitar, one of his greatest loves, for a very long time.

Teenage Cancer Trust felt like a huge pair of warm arms around us when we needed them most. When Noah died just 16 months after his diagnosis we needed to give back some of the love they’d given us. It was vital we get some good out of the apparently pointless loss of our beautiful son. So we started fund-raising.

Today, months after Noah’s death, we are still surrounded on all sides with love and generosity, this time often from people we have never even met. Halifax Town Football Club, Noah’s club from the day he was born, began raising money in his name. The footballing family responded immediately with immense warmth and generosity. And when they played Wrexham at the Shay in April, that beautiful man Ryan Reynolds (owner, with Rob McElhenney, of Wrexham FC, Hollywood royalty, and, incidentally, the star of Deadpool, one of Noah’s favourite films) gave £5,000 to Noah’s Teenage Cancer Trust fund via the club.

We used to run a B&B at Ponden Hall, West Yorkshire, and our ex-guests have also responded with immense generosity. Alison, who used to stay every autumn with two college friends, donated an astonishing £1,300 from the company she owns with her husband Paul; the novelist Tracy Chevalier (another ex-guest), as well as a very famous screenwriter also donated equally generously – as did many other people we’d met at Ponden over the years.

Noah was a huge Beatles fan: his college friend Fraser arranged for him a private visit to Abbey Road studios that was one of the best days of Noah’s life. Now Abbey Road has also posted a story about Noah on their website that has led to donations from complete strangers just moved to help. Their managing director himself, Jeremy Huffelman, has even given.

And that’s not all by a long chalk.

• Noah played bass with Sunbeam, a band from Whitby where we live, and, led by their guitarist, our friend Nicky Baxter, Sunbeam has also given the proceeds from two concerts.
• Noah’s friend Seb, studying classics at Warwick University, collected for Teenage Cancer Trust in Noah’s name at performances of Aristophanes’ Assemblywomen, an Ancient Greek play he produced.
• Our dog-walking friend Kathryn Brown, with Fylingdales Women’s Institute, held a coffee morning and bring-and-buy sale for Noah
• And Noah’s Grandma Eunice in Queensbury, West Yorkshire, has been raising money all year with her church, St Theresa’s.

Literally hundreds of other people, most of whom we have never even met, have also touched our lives with their generosity, often anonymously. We thank them from the bottom of our hearts.

On 21st May Halifax Town played Gateshead in the final of the FA Trophy at Wembley. A small club like Halifax doesn’t often get to Wembley, but they’ve been playing stunningly well recently. When they beat Wrexham 3-1 at the Shay their captain for that match, Jack Senior, told the fans, “We did it for Noah.” Now Gateshead has also begun raising funds in Noah’s name, and the footballing family, once again, has shown the immense heart underpinning the game.

Noah’s fund currently stands at £23,937.

Thank you.

Noah’s mum Julie Akhurst, and his dad Steve Brown.