‘I want to help others who are in the same situation and show them how you can still stay positive.’

Vincent shares: ‘It is Christmas. I love it. If it were up to me, the decorations would never come down. Everything has lights: houses, streets, the city. It makes me think of somewhere completely different. It gives me distraction. Because of all this, I get out of bed cheerful every day.

It was also around Christmas, eight years ago, when my parents and I became very ill. My parents recovered, but I kept having headaches. I felt them especially in the morning when I bent down to take bread out of the freezer. We decided to go to the family doctor, and later also to the ophthalmologist. Maybe it was because I needed glasses, we thought.

I got those glasses, but they did not help. After a while, we went back to the family doctor, who then referred us again to the ophthalmologist. That is where we found out there was pressure on my optic nerve. I was immediately referred to the AMC for an emergency admission and an MRI scan. That is when the doctors saw that there was a tumor in my head. Most likely malignant.

My first question

At that moment, I did not really realize yet that I was truly ill. But when I vomited 24 times the next morning, I knew there was something there that did not belong. The doctors showed me an image of the tumor. It was about six centimeters in size. I let it wash over me, at that moment I was ten, so it is very hard to grasp what is happening to you. My first question was: am I going to die? That is the question that stayed with me the most. The doctors told me they could not answer that yet, and that they would do everything they could to prevent it.

A period followed that included a twelve-hour surgery, radiation therapy, and chemotherapy. Intense, but on November 23, 2015, we were told that the cancer was gone. That made November 23 a day of celebration for the past five years. Until now. Because in early December 2020, something showed up again on the MRI scan. The cancer had returned. And although they are trying to keep the cancer under control with chemotherapy, I cannot be cured anymore. It is only a matter of postponing it. That is why I keep placing my hope in the next round of chemotherapy, instead of being sad.

Automatically positive

One of the reasons I want to share my story is because I hope it can help others in a similar situation find that positivity too. You can change your thoughts and find a way. I cannot be cured anymore. I will not be here much longer. Right now I can be very sad and think only about that, but I can also think about everything that is still possible.

That became clear to me after a visit from my sister at the AMC. She was very emotional. ‘Hey! I am not under the green grass yet’, I joked to her. We all laughed, and from that moment on, I turned automatically positive.

I do not push anything away and I talk about everything. Everything needs to be discussed. Recently, for example, we walked through a cemetery to see whether this would be a place where I would like to lie. Strange things, but I like that I have a choice in this.

Of course, there are also moments when I cannot be positive for a while. It is mainly in the evening, just before going to sleep, when negative thoughts come. I then think: what if in the future something is discovered that works well on my tumor? The doctors know they cannot cure me with everything that exists now, but who knows, maybe something will be discovered in the future that allows me to grow very old after all?

The Three Musketeers

In a WhatsApp group with more than a hundred people, ‘The Three Musketeers’, we share all the news. ‘The Three Musketeers’ stands for my foster fathers Erik, Peter, and me. Together, we do not write sad messages, but we also do not beat around the bush. It needs to be told, even when it is intense.

We end every message on a positive note. In one of the most recent messages, for example, I say very clearly that there are no longer any options for a cure, but that I hope there is still enough time to create beautiful moments.

Living life

Recently, I bought a pair of night-vision goggles. These kinds of items, things you can really do something with, help me create those beautiful moments. I really love nature. Ideally, I would like to become a forest ranger. ‘You have eagle eyes’, a forest ranger I once walked along with said to me. I see everything happening.

During a trip to Barcelona with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, we visited a match of FC Barcelona, but we also decided to go to the Sagrada Familia. It was so crowded that we could not get in. Suddenly, my eye caught a very beautifully colored little bird. No one else saw it, but for me it was the only thing that stood out.

This may not work the same way for everyone, but what I want to say is this: everyone can do things they enjoy to keep going. It is sad, but I keep moving forward. I want to live life.’

At the age of 18, Vincent passed away from the effects of childhood cancer.