My story with retinoblastoma started when I was a young child.
Looking through family photographs, a member of my family noticed an unusual white glow in one of my eyes. We didn’t know it at the time, but this is one of the classic signs of retinoblastoma (Rb), a rare eye cancer that mainly affects children aged six and under.
I was referred to specialist after specialist over many months, until I eventually came under the care of the late Consultant Ophthalmologist John Hungerford — the man who ultimately saved my life.
I was diagnosed with bilateral Rb, meaning the cancer was present in both eyes.
For a time, my mum and I lived in and around St Bartholomew’s Hospital in London while I underwent treatment, including cryotherapy and radiotherapy. Eventually, I was able to return home to Lytham St Annes.
But the cancer kept coming back.
To protect the remaining vision in my right eye, my left eye had to be removed. It was replaced with a prosthetic eye, often called a glass eye. Every now and then, I even get a shiny new one.
Today, I am completely blind in my left eye and visually impaired in my right.
My vision isn’t great. But I consider myself incredibly lucky.
There was always a very real possibility that I could have lost sight in my right eye too.
Growing up with a visual impairment hasn’t always been easy. There have been challenges and obstacles along the way, but like everyone I have good days and bad days! I never quite made it as a professional footballer or a top-10 padel player, but I’ve always tried to approach life with a simple attitude:
Just send it and do what makes you happy- what’s the worst that could happen?
I owe that to my mum and dad, who always encouraged me to give things a go, and to the incredible family and friends who have supported me throughout my life.
Then it became personal all over again.
In December 2019, my wife and I welcomed our beautiful daughter, Izzy.
Because Rb can be hereditary, CHECT strongly encouraged us to have Izzy checked as soon as possible. We were told there was a 50/50 chance she could have Rb too.
In January 2020, our greatest fear became reality.
Izzy had Rb.
She needed chemotherapy to treat the cancer and prevent it from spreading.
And then, just as we were trying to navigate our daughter’s cancer diagnosis, the world entered a global pandemic.
We had to completely isolate ourselves while travelling back and forth to London for Izzy’s treatment at Royal London Hospital and Great Ormond Street Hospital.
It was an incredibly frightening and uncertain time.
But throughout it all, CHECT was there.
They helped coordinate appointments and travel. They found us places to stay overnight. They supported me, my wife and Izzy when we needed it most.
They weren’t simply a charity we knew about.
They became part of our family.
Thankfully, because Izzy was diagnosed early and treated quickly, her outlook is more positive than mine. We hope she will retain healthy vision in one eye, although she is expected to lose most, if not all, vision in the other.
But Izzy doesn’t let any of that define her.
She’s a tough kid. Despite everything she’s been through, she throws herself into life and takes every opportunity to have a go, she’d have every right to complain but she never does.
And then came Sophie.
In August 2023, our youngest daughter, Sophie, was born.
Thanks to advances in research, we were able to establish through a blood test before she was born whether she had inherited the condition.
I’ll never forget the feeling of finding out that Izzy had Rb.
And I’ll never forget the relief of finding out that Sophie didn’t.
That’s why I’m doing this.
CHECT has been there for my family at some of the most difficult moments of our lives.
I honestly don’t know what our journey would have looked like without them.
So now, it’s my turn to give something back.
This November, I’ll be taking on 50+ hours of continuous padel with my three amazing friends Charlotte, Marcus and Toni, attempting to reclaim our own Guinness World Record and raise money for CHECT.
It will be exhausting. It will be uncomfortable. And there will undoubtedly be moments when I wonder why on earth I agreed to it.
But I know exactly why I’m doing it.
For the children and families who are just beginning their own Rb journey.
For the parents who are waiting for answers.
For the children who deserve the best possible chance of keeping their sight.
And for the families who, like mine, need to know that someone is there — today, tomorrow and for life.
If we can turn 50 hours on a padel court into support for even one family, it will be worth every minute.
If you’d like to donate to Nathan’s challenge, please visit https://givestar.io/gs/the-worlds-longest-padel-match
