Ryan Wong - Christchurch

Vicky Ma describes her son Ryan as bubbly, cheeky, and endlessly curious. At 11 years old, he is the kind of child who notices everything - bugs in the garden, skinks on the fence, and the giant fig tree near the hospital car park. But since 2021, much of Ryan’s childhood has unfolded in hospital corridors. In June that year, Vicky and her husband Andy began to notice changes. Ryan was constantly tired and covered in bruises that wouldn’t fade. A routine blood test quickly became something far more serious. Within days, Ryan was diagnosed with leukaemia. “Our world shattered,” Vicky says, “one moment we were living our normal, busy life, and the next everything stopped.”

For two years, Ryan underwent intensive treatment in Christchurch. The family leaned on the support of friends, whānau and community as they navigated hospital stays and long months of chemotherapy. When Ryan finished treatment in mid-2023, there was relief and celebration. Life finally felt like it was finding its rhythm again. Then came the relapse. A lingering cold led to another blood test - and devastating news. This time, Ryan needed a bone marrow transplant in Auckland, far from their Christchurch home.

“Nothing prepares you for having to leave everything familiar,” Vicky says, “your home, your routines, your support network - you just pack your bags and go.” When the family arrived in Auckland, Ronald McDonald House became their home-away-from-home. “We thought it would just be a place to sleep,” Vicky explains, “but it became so much more than that.” Before treatment began, Ryan explored every corner of the House - chatting with staff, visiting the library, and asking endless questions. After the transplant, the days were heavy, but small moments of care and encouragement helped carry them through. “Staff would stop what they were doing to talk to Ryan and encourage him,” Vicky says. “He’d proudly show them his latest discoveries; bugs, skinks, wasp hives, and especially the big fig tree near the entrance.” The fig tree became a symbol of connection. The family picked figs together, sharing them with staff, other families and the House chefs. “Those small moments made life feel lighter,” Vicky says.

When complications arose after returning to Christchurch, RMHC NZ again wrapped the family in care, providing the same warmth and compassion close to Ryan’s bedside. “They hugged us through our tears,” Vicky says. “They stood with us in our darkest moments.” Today, Ryan is recovering. He’s back to being his cheeky self: laughing, climbing, and keeping his mum on her toes. “Seeing him like this feels miraculous,” Vicky says.

Looking back, Vicky is clear about the role RMHC NZ played in their journey. “It wasn’t just a place to stay,” she says. “It was a home filled with kindness, care, and people who understood what we were going through.”