From a cancer diagnosis at just three years old to a little wish to return to the beach, this is Abell’s story, as shared by her mother.

Abell’s Little Wish: To Return to the Beach

Five-year-old Chrisabelle Vera, lovingly known as Abell, has one little wish close to her heart: to go to the beach every month.

For Abell, the beach is a place of happiness. It is where she wants to be, where she can enjoy herself and simply be a little girl. But since being diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia (AML) at just three years old, life has taken a different path. Today, her greatest wish is to be well enough to visit the beach again whenever she wants.

Abell is an Iban girl from Serian. Before cancer entered our lives, everything felt normal. We never imagined that one day, our family would be facing something that would change our lives so completely.

The Day Everything Changed

A few weeks before Christmas in 2024, I began noticing that Abell was becoming weaker. She had a fever that came and went over several days, and her breathing became unusually fast. As her mother, I was frightened. Without hesitation, I rushed her to Serian Hospital.

After several blood tests and examinations, the doctor told us that Abell had a lung infection. During her admission, she struggled to sleep because breathing was so difficult. She could only rest for short periods, often waking every two hours to catch her breath.

Then, less than 24 hours later, our world came crashing down for a second time.

The doctor told me that 68% of the cells found in Abell’s blood were cancer cells.

Shocked is an understatement. I could not think. I could not speak. I had no time to process what I had just heard before the doctors began asking questions about our family’s medical history.

Everything happened so quickly. One moment, I was worried about my little girl being unwell. The next, I was facing the reality that my three-year-old daughter had cancer.

Abell was urgently transferred to Sarawak General Hospital in Kuching, about 60 kilometres away from Serian. She was admitted directly to the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), where she spent three days. Those three days felt unbearably long. After that, she was moved to Ward 2A, where she stayed in a side room rather than the usual ward area.

It was difficult to comprehend how quickly our lives had changed. Just days before, everything had seemed normal. Now, instead of preparing for Christmas as a family, I was trying to understand what lay ahead for my daughter.

Abell began her first cycle of chemotherapy on Christmas Eve, 24 December 2024. Over the next six months, she went through five cycles of chemotherapy.

Six months felt like an eternity. As a mother, all I wanted was to see my child get better and return to the life she knew. I am grateful that we have made it through that chapter, but the journey demanded sacrifices that I never imagined I would have to make.

A Mother’s Biggest Sacrifice

During Abell’s active treatment, she had to remain in the hospital because AML patients face a higher risk of infection and other complications. Even though Serian was not very far from Kuching, we could not simply return home whenever we wanted.

I had two other children waiting for me at home. But while Abell needed me by her side in Kuching, I had to be away from them for months at a time.

That was the hardest part for me as a mother.

Sometimes, I could not stop crying. I missed my other children, and it hurt knowing that I could not be there for them in the way I wanted to be. I never wanted to be separated from them, but Abell needed me, and I had to prioritise her treatment.

It was a sacrifice I wish I had never needed to make.

Thankfully, my husband took care of our other children, making sure they were looked after and sent to school. My family also became an important source of strength throughout our journey. Abell’s aunt and grandmother helped us tremendously during our most difficult times. Their support eased some of my worries and reminded me that, even when I could not be everywhere at once, my children were still surrounded by love.

I will always be grateful to them. I could never thank them enough.

Finding Comfort in the People Who Understood

Throughout Abell’s treatment, there were days when everything felt overwhelming. But I slowly learnt that I did not have to carry all those feelings alone.

One of the things I looked forward to was spending time with the other mothers in the ward. There is something comforting about being with people who truly understand what you are going through, without needing you to explain everything.

We shared our struggles, ate together and sometimes went out together. We could talk about the difficult days, encourage one another and find little moments of happiness amid the uncertainty.

Their support helped lift my spirits and made me feel less alone. When you are going through something as difficult as childhood cancer, having someone who understands can mean more than words can express.

Prayer was another thing that kept me going. I never stopped praying for Abell. Whenever I felt weak or overwhelmed, I reminded myself to stay strong and patient for her. I held on to the hope that things would get better, even on the days when I could not see how.

And then, there was SCCS.

When I first learnt about SCCS, I felt relieved. At least I knew there was someone willing to help us and support us whenever we needed assistance.

From Abell’s diagnosis until today, SCCS has provided us with so much support, especially emotional support. They have made me feel understood, as though they recognise the difficulties our family has faced and continue to face.

The services they provide have made a meaningful difference to both Abell and our family. I especially remember the transportation between the Halfway Home and the hospital, which made attending appointments and receiving care so much easier. The Halfway Home itself has also helped make life more manageable for families like ours.

These may seem like simple things to some people, but when you are caring for a child with cancer far from home, even the smallest help can lift a huge weight off your shoulders.

Knowing that someone is there to support you makes a difference. It reminds you that you are not facing this journey alone.

The Little Things That Make Abell Happy

Despite everything she has been through, Abell is still a little girl who finds happiness in the simplest things.

During her active treatment, she loved playing games on the phone and spending time with SCCS staff in the playroom. Abell is naturally quiet around other people and sometimes finds it difficult to express herself. But she really enjoyed being around the SCCS team and playing with them.

Those little moments of laughter and play meant a lot to me. Even in the middle of hospital visits, treatment and uncertainty, I was grateful that Abell could still enjoy being a child.

And, of course, there is food!

Whenever her condition allows, Abell loves eating karipap. She can eat up to 10 pieces at a time, especially the crispy pastry. It makes me happy to see her enjoy something so much.

One of the little things I cherish is how she asks for food as soon as she wakes up. Recently, she has also been wanting to try all sorts of different foods. Seeing her show an interest in eating and discovering what she likes brings me joy.

As a mother, you learn to treasure moments that others might take for granted. A child asking for food, laughing during playtime or simply enjoying a favourite snack can become something truly precious.

More Than a Year After Treatment

It has now been more than a year since Abell completed her active cancer treatment. We are thankful to have reached this milestone, but our journey has not been without further challenges.

About a month after she finished treatment, the doctors discovered that her heart had become very weak, with her heart function at only 46%.

Since then, Abell has needed regular follow-up appointments at Kozi Clinic Day. She also gets tired easily and often becomes unwell after going out for extended periods.

We tried sending her to school, but she only managed to attend once before her health made it too difficult. For now, we have decided to let her rest at home until she is well enough to return.

It is not easy to watch your child go through so much, especially after you have already endured months of treatment and hoped that life would finally become a little more normal. But we are learning to take things one day at a time, following her needs and cherishing whatever each day brings.

With Abell’s current condition, family time has become even more precious to us.

I love having our family around because it makes the house feel more lively, and it makes Abell happy. Whenever our relatives are free, I invite them to visit us. Their presence brings joy into our home, and I am grateful that we can spend these moments together.

Abell also gets very excited whenever she knows the SCCS team is coming for a home visit. She prefers staying at home these days. Even when she asks to go out, she often wants to return home not long after we leave.

So, for now, home is where she feels most comfortable, surrounded by the people who love her.

One Day, We Will Go to the Beach Again

If there is one thing I wish for Abell, it is that she can return to the beach.

She has always loved going to the beach, and she wishes she could go every month. But with her health condition, we cannot go as often as she would like.

I hope that one day, she will feel better and we can take her to the beach whenever she wants. I want her to enjoy the things that make her happy, without having to worry so much about her health.

It may sound like a simple wish, but to me, it means so much. After everything Abell has been through, I want her to have more opportunities to enjoy her childhood, make happy memories and do the things she loves.

Until then, we will continue taking things one day at a time. We will keep praying, keep hoping and keep appreciating every moment we have together.

To other parents who are going through a similar journey, I want to say this: Please stay strong and never give up. Always pray for your child, and never lose hope that things can get better.

I know how difficult it can be. I know there will be days when you feel exhausted, frightened and unsure of what comes next. There were days when I struggled, too.

But we keep going because our children need us. We hold on to hope for them, even when the journey is not what we expected.

And sometimes, hope looks like something very small.

For Abell, it is a trip to the beach.

For me, it is seeing my daughter happy, watching her enjoy her favourite food and knowing that, despite everything, she is still here with us.

For now, that is enough to keep me going. And I will continue hoping for the day when Abell can return to the beach, as often as her heart desires.