From diagnosis to a deluge of kindness

A Johannesburg couple blindsided by their 11-year-old son’s leukaemia diagnosis have seen their world implode — and their community respond with a thousand acts of kindness, sparked by a simple request for a toy dog.

Two weeks ago, recruitment contractor Jen Veiga and her husband, cybersecurity engineer Mario, were mildly concerned about their son Jordan’s pale complexion and persistent leg cramps. They assumed it was anaemia or growing pains, and took him to the doctor for a check-up.

The news was devastating. By the next morning, after a blood test, Jordan had been admitted to the Wits Donald Gordon Medical Centre’s paediatric oncology unit and diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. Within 12 hours, the family’s ordinary home life was replaced by hospital corridors, medical jargon and a crash course in childhood cancer.

“It was fast and terrifying,” said Jen. “One minute we were a happy family, saying grace before meals and prayers at bedtime. The next we were learning everything we could about this.”

Days later, she lost her job contract and stepped fully into a new role as what she calls a “medical mom”.

Jordan’s treatment plan is punishing: eight 33-day cycles of chemotherapy, combining IV infusions through a port, high-dose steroids, oral chemotherapy, spinal injections and relentless blood tests. His first hospital stay began with transfusions — 20 units of blood and 10 of plasma — which quickly revived his colour and energy.

For a moment, Jordan thought he was better.

“We had to explain that it was only the start,” said Jen. “The medicine takes time, and it’s going to get harder. He has to be brave.”

Because his immune system is severely compromised, Jordan is largely isolated from friends, visitors and crowds. His parents run a round-the-clock relay: Mario covers nights while continuing to work from home during the day; Jen manages daytime care and accompanies Jordan through treatment as he moves between hospital and home.

Determined to keep their son focused on something positive at the end of his treatment, they leaned into his biggest wish: a brown labrador puppy. Jordan has long dreamed of swimming with one, like the labradors he watches leaping into the pond when they visit the local dog park with their small dogs. His parents promised he could have one for his 12th birthday in July.

As chemotherapy intensified and began to take a heavier toll, Jen posted on the I Love Fourways Facebook page asking where she might find a toy chocolate-brown labrador to keep Jordan company until the real puppy arrived.

The response was overwhelming. Within hours, strangers were delivering plush dogs and gifts to the hospital. Messages of support poured in from neighbours, survivors and parents of other children with cancer. Before long, a pile of toy dogs had accumulated at the Veiga home, with more still promised — including from people overseas who had been moved by the post.

“It’s unbelievable how kind people are when you feel like you can’t manage,” said Jen. “Last night I called my best friend and asked her to make more of whatever she was having for supper, and suddenly a spaghetti dinner appeared.”

Jordan, pale and serious, has named every gifted toy dog “Bear” — the name he plans to give his future puppy. After learning that most of his treatment can be managed on an outpatient basis, his parents realised the real labrador may arrive sooner than planned and have started saving for one.

The online appeal struck a deep chord in Fourways. A children’s charity offered to send a handmade “rare bear”. Leukaemia survivors shared their stories. One parent wrote about a son who survived cancer as a child and is now thriving in his mid-20s. Another mother, currently navigating her own daughter’s diagnosis, offered solidarity and practical advice.

The outpouring of support has reshaped Mario’s outlook. When Jordan eventually rings the hospital bell marking the end of treatment, Mario hopes to support other dads facing the same ordeal.

“People don’t know what to say. But we’re actually blessed. So many people care, and it helps to know we’re not alone,” he said.

Although daunted, Jen has become an advocate for parental vigilance. Early detection, she believes, made a critical difference in Jordan’s case.

“We were lucky,” she said. “Some children we’ve met were diagnosed late and are suffering badly. Jordan’s cancer was caught early, and it’s responding well to treatment. He’s going to be okay.”

Jordan — a keen gamer and technology fan — avoids words such as “leukaemia” and “cancer” and has his own way of describing his illness.

“Those words are big and scary. What I have is just a glitch in the coding of my blood. It’s fixable, so I’m just getting mine fixed. I’m really chilled.”