There are no words strong enough to describe the pain of losing a child. Nadia is gone… yet she will remain forever in the hearts of those who loved her — in every laugh, every hug, and every fleeting moment that no illness, no time, and no death can ever take away.
Her life was heartbreakingly short, but it was filled with courage, determination, and an unshakable spirit that touched everyone who had the privilege of knowing her. We are profoundly grateful to every person who stood beside her — through prayers, support, kindness, and care — as she fought the bravest battle of her life.
Nadia’s story began quietly in January 2023, in a hospital in Ostrów Wielkopolski. What started as routine medical tests quickly turned into every parent’s worst nightmare. Doctors suspected leukemia, and in an instant, our world shifted into fear and uncertainty. We clung desperately to hope, praying that this diagnosis would be wrong — that cancer would somehow spare our little girl. But the biopsy confirmed our deepest fear: acute myeloid leukemia (AML M5).
From that moment on, Nadia’s life became a series of relentless battles. Chemotherapy began, and at first, it seemed to work. But soon, complications followed. A suspected fungal infection in her lungs forced doctors to pause treatment, plunging us into months of hospital stays, powerful medications, and agonizing uncertainty. Then, in September, a routine blood test revealed blasts in her bone marrow — a recurrence that shattered the fragile sense of peace we had been holding onto.
We waited, trusting the system, believing that a plan would come. When weeks passed without intervention, fear turned into resolve. We knew we had to fight — not just alongside our daughter, but for her. Nadia underwent treatment with Vidaze and Venetoclax. When a growing lesion threatened her life, surgeons were forced to remove half of her right lung lobe. Each surgery, each chemotherapy cycle, drained her tiny body — but never her spirit.
Nadia amazed everyone around her. She recovered from surgeries faster than expected, left intensive care sooner than predicted, and faced every procedure with a quiet strength that stunned even seasoned doctors. By December, a fragile hope returned. Vyxeos chemotherapy reduced blast counts, her condition stabilized, and granulocyte transfusions helped rebuild her weakened immune system. A stem cell transplant was planned — the moment we believed might finally save her.
January 26, 2024 was meant to be a turning point. Instead, it brought another cruel test. A drug-resistant bacterial infection led to sepsis, and Nadia’s condition deteriorated rapidly. Once again, we stood on the edge of despair, forced to choose between fear and faith. Thanks to tireless medical teams, advanced treatments, and hemodialysis, Nadia fought her way back — slowly, painfully, but bravely.
Even then, the battle was not over. Graft-versus-host disease attacked her skin and gastrointestinal tract, leaving painful wounds and relentless discomfort. Though medication brought some relief, new nodules appeared. Biopsies confirmed extramedullary relapse — leukemia had returned outside the bone marrow. Despite no molecular relapse in her marrow, the disease had found another way in.
At last, doctors made the devastating decision to stop further cancer-directed treatment. But Nadia never stopped fighting — not in her own way. She fought in every breath, every transfusion, every moment she spent wrapped in love. Through endless needles, procedures, pain, and exhaustion, she remained our bright, beautiful girl. Even confined to hospital rooms, she comforted us with smiles, gentle gestures, and moments of joy that felt like miracles.
Today, Nadia is no longer physically with us. But her presence is everywhere. In the love she gave so freely. In the courage she showed without ever being asked. In the lessons she taught us about strength, resilience, and what it truly means to be brave.
Leukemia may have taken her body, but it could never take her spirit.
Nadia’s life — though far too short — left an indelible mark on this world. Her story lives on in every heart she touched, every life she inspired, and every moment she showed us that even in the face of unimaginable suffering, love shines brightest.
Her fight is over.
Her legacy is eternal.
Peggy’s Story: A Tiny Fighter with an Unbreakable Spirit
When two-year-old Peggy first began to show what looked like a lazy eye, her parents never imagined it would mark the beginning of a life-changing journey. Like many parents, they assumed it was something minor — a quirk of early childhood that would resolve itself in time. During a routine check-up, they mentioned it casually, reassured by the lack of concern from medical professionals.
But within days, that quiet reassurance dissolved into fear.
Peggy’s eyelid began to droop noticeably, and her eye stopped moving altogether. Something was undeniably wrong. Trusting their instincts, her parents insisted on a face-to-face GP appointment. That insistence would prove vital.
Peggy was urgently referred to the Royal United Hospital in Bath, where doctors ordered an MRI scan. The results were devastating. The scan revealed a brain tumour sitting directly on top of the toddler’s optic nerve — a diagnosis no parent is ever prepared to hear, and one that instantly turned their world upside down.
Despite the seriousness of her condition, Peggy herself seemed blissfully unaware of the danger she faced.
“You wouldn’t know anything is wrong with her,” said her mum, Emma Williams, 37.
“She’s the most independent and bubbly child — always causing mayhem on the hospital ward and running around the corridors.”
Behind Peggy’s laughter, however, was a family living in limbo.
For six long months, they existed in a state of uncertainty, waiting for answers that never seemed to come. Peggy underwent repeated MRI scans, endured a lumbar puncture to drain excess fluid from her brain, and was placed on steroids in the hope of shrinking the tumour. Each procedure carried its own risks. Each day brought new questions, new fears, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
The steroids failed. The tumour remained.
Eventually, doctors made the difficult decision to operate. Peggy underwent an incredibly complex ten-and-a-half-hour surgery at Bristol Children’s Hospital. Surgeons fought carefully against time and risk, working millimetres away from vital structures in her brain. But the tumour’s size and location made removal impossible. The only option was to take a biopsy.
Waiting for the results was agonizing.
In August 2021, the family finally received a diagnosis: Peggy had a low-grade meningioma, a rare type of brain tumour. While “low-grade” offered a glimmer of relief, it did not bring certainty. The tumour was still there. The future remained unclear.
“What we’ve had to deal with as a family over the last five years has been incredibly difficult,” Emma shared.
“I’ve had support for anxiety and depression. There are moments when it feels overwhelming, when the weight of it all becomes too much.”
Yet through every hospital stay, scan, and setback, Peggy continued to shine. She brought joy into spaces filled with fear. Nurses knew her by name. Corridors echoed with her footsteps as she ran, laughed, and played — a small child carrying a strength far greater than anyone could have expected.
Determined to turn their pain into purpose, Emma decided to take action.
Now, she is taking part in Brain Tumour Research’s 10,000 Steps a Day in February Challenge, walking daily to raise funds and awareness for a cause that has become deeply personal.
“I walk everywhere,” Emma said.
“It gives me time to think, to reflect, and to process everything we’ve been through. Taking part in this challenge means so much to us. If we can help even one family, raise awareness, or contribute in a small way — then it’s worth every step.”
Mel Tiley, Community Development Manager at Brain Tumour Research, praised Emma’s efforts:
“We’re incredibly sorry to hear about Peggy’s diagnosis and everything the family has faced. It’s inspiring to see Emma using this challenge to support others who may be going through similar circumstances.”
Peggy’s story is one of resilience, instinct, and unwavering love. It is a reminder that sometimes the smallest signs can reveal the biggest battles — and that listening to parental instinct can save lives.
Through uncertainty and fear, this family continues to move forward, step by step. And at the heart of it all is Peggy — bright, fearless, and full of life — reminding everyone around her that courage can come in the smallest, most joyful forms.