Acute Myeloid Leukemia❗ Transplant❗ Igor fights bravely❗.

Seemingly nothing of concern

Igor is a boy who is hard to stop. Constantly on the move. In the spring of 2024, he was not off the field. The days were getting warmer and warmer, and he, as an eight-year-old, was enjoying the world with all his being.

When he returned home, after another day spent actively, he developed a fever. On the surface, nothing worrisome - he probably got overheated, maybe winded, maybe he ran too long without a sweatshirt. Such things happen. These were no cause for alarm. However, the fever did not let up, and another symptom was a swollen eye. It took three days of trying to "beat" the fever. With each passing hour, the tension in the house grew, that elusive anxiety that tells you something is wrong. The parents, for the sake of sanity, went to the doctor. The results came very quickly, and with them came the diagnosis - Acute Myeloid Leukemia. That one sentence shattered their hearts.

Chemotherapy and waiting for a miracle

Treatment began immediately. Chemotherapy was included. Four cycles, each heavier than the last. The days merged into one: tests, infusions, waiting. In between doses, the hope that maybe this was the last one, maybe this time it would work. It didn't.
The boy's family faced a life-altering decision.

Igor lived in Ukraine, a country where war has become a daily reality. A transplant in such conditions? Too much risk. Too much could go wrong.
The family packed up in a hurry. The trip to Poland was a chance to save their son's life. They left without a plan, without guarantees, but with hope.
In September, they were already in Poland. First radiation therapy, then preparation for the transplant. In January 2025, Igor received the most precious gift - a bone marrow from his dad. This is a so-called haploidentical transplant, in which a partial genetic match is enough.

The transplant took. Everyone held their breath when the results started to improve. No one said "it worked." In oncology, such words are spoken in whispers and with humility in the face of fate.

A small step toward normalcy

Today Igor is undergoing maintenance treatment. Sometimes he can be tired, sometimes in a surge of energy he remembers the field and his colleagues. Not yet, we still have to wait. Everything is happening slowly, with care, with that parental "chuckle at the cold."

Checks at the Cape of Hope in Wroclaw have become part of everyday life. Yet every time they cross the clinic's threshold, they hold their breath. That fear still lives in them. Although quiet, it is still present. Alongside it is gratitude for each new day given to their child.