A three-year-old boy from Pontypool, who spent most of a year fighting a rare and aggressive cancer, is preparing to cross an ocean in search of a chance the system at home could no longer offer. His scans now show no active disease, yet his family knows how quickly that quiet can break. In a world where the medicines a child depends on can be withdrawn by distant owners, and where love is measured in fundraising totals, his journey to New York becomes a question about who gets to hope, and at what cost.
Family Gains 'Glimmer of Hope' as Toddler Heads to New York for Experimental Neuroblastoma Vaccine Trial
Teddy's learning to take blood pressures while his friends learn to jump in puddles
Teddy's scans are clear. Why is he still going to New York?
The vaccine is meant to prevent the cancer returning. Sarah says relapse drops survival to single figures, so they want every protection available.
Worth noting, though, that the vaccine is experimental. The article doesn't say how well it works, and Sarah herself speaks of a tiny chance it could do some good.
And the DFMO drug? How does it fit in?
It was the maintenance option, but its US owner withdrew it from the NHS in June after a clinical trial. Existing patients could continue for two years. New ones like Teddy couldn't.
The reasons for the withdrawal aren't given beyond the trial. I'd be careful about reading more into it.
What stands out about the money?
£250,000 in 12 weeks, then a raised target of £350,000, with more than £300,000 collected. Sarah said she thought they'd never make it.
That's the family's account of a fundraiser, and the full cost of the trial isn't itemised. We don't know what the final bill will be.
What about the diagnosis delay?
Months of symptoms were put down to teething, illness and constipation. The health board says such symptoms can be complex and difficult to diagnose, and invites the family to talk.
Right, and that's a response, not a finding. Nothing here establishes whether anything was missed.
Le Pouls
- A toddler's body that was once overwhelmed by a tumour now has to relearn how to eat, drink and walk.
- The NHS's withdrawal of a relapse-preventing drug left a new patient with no path at home, and the family had to look elsewhere.
- A community raised £250,000 in twelve weeks, and the target has already climbed toward £350,000 as costs keep coming.
- The family is racing toward a November appointment in New York, carrying hope and fear in equal measure.
- Behind the fundraising, a younger brother stays in Wales, and a mother carries guilt that no scan can measure.
A three-year-old boy from Pontypool, who spent most of a year fighting a rare and aggressive cancer, is preparing to cross an ocean in search of a chance the system at home could no longer offer. His scans now show no active disease, yet his family knows how quickly that quiet can break. In a world where the medicines a child depends on can be withdrawn by distant owners, and where love is measured in fundraising totals, his journey to New York becomes a question about who gets to hope, and at what cost.
Teddy Sloman is three years old, and he is learning to use a stethoscope and take blood pressures while other children his age learn to jump in puddles and climb frames. That is how his mother, Sarah, describes the boy who spent ten months in hospital in Cardiff. Next month the family from Pontypool will fly to New York so he can begin an experimental vaccine trial for neuroblastoma, a rare and aggressive childhood cancer.
The illness was missed for months. Teddy's symptoms were put down to teething, illness and constipation until he stopped eating, vomited and slept for hours. When Sarah felt a mass in his abdomen and he stayed unwell, a locum doctor at The Grange Hospital finally ordered a scan. The tumour filled his abdomen and had spread to his bone marrow. Sarah, a paediatric nurse, found the diagnosis surreal. Treatment took the family across three hospitals in Wales, England and beyond, and Teddy now receives his food through a tube.
The path to New York narrowed in June, when a maintenance drug that could help prevent relapse was withdrawn from the NHS by its owner. New patients such as Teddy could no longer get it. When clear scans came back, Sarah said it was "Christmas come early." Friends launched a fundraiser that reached £250,000 in twelve weeks, and the target has since risen to £350,000, with more than £300,000 already raised.
The cost has not been only financial. Teddy's younger brother Joey stayed in Britain on the first trip because of a measles outbreak in New York, and Sarah speaks of "mum guilt." She hopes the trip will be the final chapter of this nightmare, and she argues that childhood cancers deserve far more support. For now, the family's attention is fixed on that November appointment.
Teddy Sloman is three years old, and he is learning to use a stethoscope and take blood pressures while other children his age learn to jump in muddy puddles and climb frames. That is how his mother, Sarah, describes the boy who spent ten months in Noah's Ark Children's Hospital for Wales. Next month the family from Pontypool, Torfaen, will fly to New York so he can begin an experimental vaccine trial for neuroblastoma, a rare and aggressive childhood cancer.
Almost a year ago, doctors warned Teddy's parents that he might not survive the surgery meant to save his life. Recent scans, however, showed no active disease. Sarah says she hopes the trip will be "the final chapter" of his treatment and "the end of this ridiculous nightmare." She says the family has given him the best chance medical science can offer.
The diagnosis came in July 2025, after months in which his symptoms were put down to teething, illness and constipation. Teddy stopped eating and drinking, slept for hours by day and night, and began vomiting. Sarah felt a mass in his abdomen and was first told it was just faeces. When he stayed unwell, she took him back to The Grange Hospital in Cwmbran. A locum doctor in charge of the children's assessment unit told her these symptoms were not normal and ordered a scan. It showed the mass was a significant tumour.
The tumour filled his whole abdomen, pressing on his organs and making it hard for him to eat or even breathe. The cancer had also spread to his bone marrow. Sarah, a paediatric nurse, said the diagnosis felt surreal, since she had been in that same situation as a student nurse some 20 years earlier. "This is my work world," she said. "This is not supposed to be my personal life." Aneurin Bevan health board said it recognised how distressing it can be for parents when a child is seriously unwell and symptoms are hard to diagnose. It invited the family to contact it so their concerns could be fully reviewed.
Treatment took the family to Birmingham and London as well as Cardiff, and it has left lasting effects. Teddy now receives all his food through a tube and must learn to eat and drink again. Long stretches in bed meant he has had to learn to walk three times. His younger brother Joey, nearly two, spent most of that time with grandparents and relatives, and Sarah speaks of "mum guilt." Because of a measles outbreak in New York, the family made what she called a heartbreaking decision to leave Joey in the UK on the first trip.
The path to New York was narrowed in June, when the family learned that a maintenance drug, difluoromethylornithine (DFMO), which could help prevent relapse, had been withdrawn from the NHS by the US company that owns it after a clinical trial. Patients already taking it could continue for two years, but new patients such as Teddy could not. Sarah says they know of no other family going through the private treatment route. To be referred to the vaccine trial, Teddy needed a urine sample, a bone marrow aspirate and scans declaring no active disease. When the results came back clear, she said, it was "Christmas come early."
Teddy has been formally accepted, with his first appointment in November. Sarah says that if he relapses, survival rates drop to single figures, so even a small chance that the vaccine helps is worth it. At one point the couple considered selling their house and taking out loans. Friends instead launched a campaign for £250,000 and reached it in 12 weeks, which Sarah had thought they would never manage. The target has since been raised to £350,000 to cover ongoing costs, and more than £300,000 has been raised.
Sarah argues that childhood cancers need more focus, support and research, and calls their funding "harrowing" compared with adult cancers. "We shouldn't need to be raising all this money to fly the other side of the world for drugs," she said. The Welsh government says improving cancer care is a top priority, pointing to a 10-year strategy and to funding for early-stage trials for children and young people through Health and Care Research Wales and Cancer Research UK. For now, the family's attention turns to the November appointment in New York.
Citations marquantes
We shouldn't need to be raising all this money to fly the other side of the world for drugs.— Sarah Sloman, Teddy's mother
If he relapses the survival rates drop to single figures.— Sarah Sloman, Teddy's mother