Justin Riley

Strike a Chord for Cancer Foundation Making life better by striking a chord in someones heart

Justin Riley received his electronic drum kit, thanks to Strike A Chord and Kosmic Sound, in April 2009. Check out the smile on his face!

A NOTE FROM JUSTIN TO STRIKE A CHORD....
Dear Strike-A-Chord, thankyou so much for the Drum Kit I received on Friday the 17th of April. I greatly appreciate it and I look forward to becoming a professional drummer! You have really made me happy so thankyou once again and keep up the good work!

THANK YOU Justin. Youre an inspiration to everyone.

Leukaemia & I - By Justin Riley, April 2009.
"Back in August of 2006 I was at my friend Lucas’s house. We had played a tough soccer match the previous day and we were tired from running around all weekend. “Lunch is ready,” Mrs Chapman called. “Ok,” Lucas and I replied. We raced into the kitchen and sat down, Mrs Chapman laid out two pies on the table. “Yum pies are my favourite!” exclaimed Lucas. “Thanks Mrs Chapman,” I said. Then the strangest thing happened, as soon as I caught a whiff of the pies scent I felt sick. My brain screamed, “No, no I don’t want to eat it!” but my stomach rumbled with hunger. Suddenly it churned and I felt sick, it had gotten my brain’s message. I tried to force myself to eat some of it. After a little while I said “ Mrs Chapman, I’m not really hungry and I’m feeling sick.” “Ok, are you alright? Would you like me to call your mother?” she replied. “Yes please” I said.

For the next few days I stayed home. On Tuesday I stayed at my dads because my mum and step dad had to go to work. Around lunchtime they came to pick me up early. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Don’t worry Justin, just get in the car” my mum replied. I walked to the car, jumped in and waited. I looked through the window and saw mum talking to dad in a whispered conversation. Dad looked surprised at what she was saying, his face had the immediate impression of disbelief. I knew something was wrong, after a while my mum and my step dad got back in the car, dad came to the window and gave me a hug, as he did so he whispered into my ear, “ I love you mate, and make sure you take care of yourself.” I remember those words as clear as I remember yesterday. We drove in silence for about five minutes, until I couldn’t take it any more. “Where are we going?” I blurted out. No answer came instead my parents started talking under their breath to each other. “Should we tell him?” they said. “Yeah, he has a right to know.” “Ok we are going up to the hospital for a few days,” said Wayne (my step dad). “Why?” I replied. “Well the blood test you had yesterday shows that you are sick,” my mum replied. I had a million questions floating in my mind and I just had to ask them. “ What am I sick with?” I asked. “Well its called Leukaemia,” mum answered. I had never heard that word in my entire life. “What’s that?” I said, confused.”It’s a type of cancer,” Wayne said hesitantly. As soon as those words reached my ears I was in shock. I had just one question left to ask. “Am I going to die?” I asked, tears flooding my eyes. “I’ll be completely honest with you Justin,” mum replied with sadness in her voice, “I don’t know.” The reality hit me like a bullet through my heart. I didn’t say another word for the rest of the trip. When we reached the hospital we spent a little time in the waiting room. Finally a doctor came to see us. We followed him into a room with a bathroom, a single bed, a big single couch and a TV on the wall. “This is where you will be staying for the next few weeks, I’m Doctor Baker, nice to meet you.”

Justin pictured with Kerry Panara from Kosmic Sound and Strike A Chord, with his new drum kit.

Once the greetings were aside he got straight down to business. “Ok, our test results show that you do have Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia, but there is some good news with that,” he said. “This is the most common Leukaemia of them all and I’ll tell you this now Justin, nine out of ten children diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia will survive so I’d say you’ve got pretty good odds in your favour,” he continued. “So I just need to do a normal check up and then we can start with your hydration.” After a while my mother and I were called to the treatment room. “What are they doing?” I asked. “Well they need to hydrate you so they are going to put a needle into your hand called a drip.” When we got to the treatment room I saw the size of the needle and I immediately backed out. “No, please no,” I screamed out in reluctance. Eventually my mum calmed me down and convinced me to go through with it. I squeezed mum’s hand as I waited anxiously. The nurse cleaned my skin to prevent infection and then suddenly I felt a searing pain shoot up my arm, I screamed and shouted in pain as I squeezed my mum’s hand harder than ever. Eventually the pain shrunk away into a small annoying sting, but at least I could start my treatment.

The days went by quickly as all I did was watch TV and go to the toilet. I had some different nurses over my stay but my most common and favourite was Alice, she always wore a smile and had all these wacky sayings like “Cool Bananas!” and “Unreal, orange peel!” She always cheered me up. My best friend Greg visited me almost every day and one day all my family from places like Bunbury and Mandurah came to visit me at once, it was kind of like a family reunion. I received cards and magazines from many of my friends and the best thing I got was a West Coast Eagles Guernsey from my dad. I was taught by the ward teacher Jane every morning and we mostly played spelling and maths card games. Once a week I would also go to the operating theatre to get a Lumber Puncture, known as LP for short. When I woke up from my first ever operation and LP, I looked up to see mum smiling with tears in her eyes, she handed me a teddy wearing a West Coast Eagles scarf. It was one of the many I would receive throughout my journey back to a normal life.

Eventually I became re-hydrated and I was given permission to go home. When I heard my body shivered and shook with joy. I was going home after three agonising weeks of tablets, needles and unhappiness. On the way home I looked out the window of the car, the whole time drinking in the familiar sights of my home, Mandurah. When we reached my house I ran around, I was reunited with my dog Baley, my room and most importantly my family. But the adventure was not over yet, I still had many more months of treatment to endure, but for the moment everything was just perfect.

Justin Riley
2009