The Smiling Warrior - Help Koa Beat Brain Cancer

This is the story of Koa, the Smiling Warrior. Four years old, happy and loving. Always sharing hugs, kisses, thumbs ups and most of all, smiles. Dress-ups and dreams of being a paramedic or fireman.

One day in November, 2024, Koa suddenly began losing his balance, had an unsteady gaze, and threw up. In hospital he was soon diagnosed with a life-threatening brain cancer known as medulloblastoma.

Koa quickly needed surgery, which was an important first step, but left Koa with a syndrome where he is for now unable to sit, or eat, walk or maybe hardest of all - talk (some fully recover from this syndrome others don’t). He might otherwise have been discharged 10 days after surgery, though now he’s likely to be there until later this year.

I’m Danni, a close friend of Koa’s parents, Natalie Walker and Ben Kermode, who suddenly find themselves grappling with several huge challenges:

When some teachers, parents and I suggested a GoFundMe, Koa’s family were hesitant. Now they’re realizing the length of their challenge, but also that people want to help and don’t know how.

Through this GoFundMe, you can support the family and directly participate in Koa’s journey. Any generosity would mean the world to this family (and If you’re unable to contribute, would you consider sharing this story?).

Any and all contributions will be used for Koa’s benefit either directly (eg therapy, treatment and equipment - vast majority of the allocations - short, medium and long-term) or to support time-management or logistics around a parent always being with him (hopefully medium term). Thank you so much for your consideration and support.

Koa’s Dad, Ben, has provided more detail below.

From Koa’s Dad, Ben

Though it’s been 10 weeks or so, Natalie and I are obviously still reeling. It’s hard to imagine how hard this must be for Koa. One day he’s running around and hugging his mum, and the next he’s in bed unable to control his body or talk. And he can’t fully comprehend the treatment to come.

Koa’s treatment consists of surgery (completed), radiation and chemotherapy. Each is vital at giving him a chance. Each has its own costs.

Surgery

While Koa has made some progress since surgery, the syndrome it left him means he can’t sit up, or open his mouth, or talk, or eat, or walk. We hope this improves with time. We can’t yet take him home, even for a visit - he can’t sit in a car seat. He does and will receive disability assistance, but what that looks like long-term is unclear, and any support may provide equipment or therapy that would otherwise be more difficult. This could be a focus for months or years.

Radiation and chemotherapy.

Radiation and chemotherapy in these cases are associated with a long list of very significant long-term impacts, including (but not limited to) endocrine dysfunction, and challenges in academic and social development - these effects are worse in young kids. There is expanding science around trying to heal this damage. We’ll connect with therapists and experts in Australia and around the world, in the hope of doing whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, whether by established or emerging techniques and therapies, and any support would directly help. This could be a focus throughout childhood and potentially beyond.

Hospital and Family

As parents of four young boys, we’re committed to one of us always being with Koa. For now we’re managing to split nights at the hospital, as we’ve done every night since admission in November. However as his hospital stay stretches later into the year, there’s a need for logistical support: things like childcare, unpaid leave (carer’s leave is great but limited), prepared meals, etc. After hospital, eventually, hopefully Koa’s care will be managed at home, which will come with its own challenges, potentially for years to come.

The Smiling Warrior

Koa is truly our Smiling Warrior. It’s hard to imagine a more positive kid really, he was just always smiling, and genuinely so. He loved blowing kisses, to his brothers or his dad, and I recall him putting his arm around his mum while she ate dinner, telling her “You’re the best, Mum”. So endearing too, his desire to be a community helper like a paramedic, policeman or fireman (and wear the cool uniform). His response to a fall or a bump was always his trademark Thumbs Up. I have a photo of him giving a thumbs up being wheeled from the ambulance into hospital for brain surgery. Koa’s default was being generous and happy without needing a reason.

Recovery from surgery was so hard on Koa. For many weeks he was asleep or severely agitated. And then one day, one of his therapists made him smile. It was a moment of revelation, a sign that our boy was still there. Several weeks later, he manages to smile at most people who come to see him (and there are a lot). Every day people remark how his beautiful smile brightens their day. On one hand, without speech, his eye movements and his smile are his main communication tools. On the other, his constant, beautiful smile is a testament to his enduring resilience, and his continued ability to be positive and radiant amidst unimaginable challenges. He has a joyful heart, but he is also very strong.

Please hug your loved ones, and take care of them first. Beyond that, please know any help would support a beautiful soul, and a future for him we pray is full of recovery, positivity, service, celebration and quality of life.