‘I Draw Childhood Cancer’ Provides a Voice for Families
Angus Olsen (right) and his daughter, Jane, at The Children’s Hospital at Westmead in Sydney, Australia.
I did not know how to help or what to do. Everything was unnatural and alien.
It was August 2016. My daughter, Jane, was 2 years old. We were at The Children’s Hospital at Westmead in Sydney, Australia. Jane had a cancer called rhabdomyosarcoma. A tumor the size of a cantaloupe pressed against her vital organs. All I could do was be there for her and watch the cancer attack her.
The situation was such an emergency that doctors and nurses did not have time to explain it to me. I put a lot of trust in them. It took me months just to learn how to pronounce her cancer, let alone understand what it was.
All I knew was they might save Jane’s life, and I had to do my best to make things easier for them. I had to keep her nappies clean, change her sheets, keep her fed, and watch her numbers. It was an unrelenting hell.
Friends and family kept asking questions about Jane, and I did not know how to answer. I started doing the only thing I know how to do—draw.
I did not realize it at the time, but drawing could show what I could not say with words. It came naturally. I have been an artist since I was little and was an animator for Walt Disney Television Animation. I now own a coffee shop in Katoomba, a popular tourist hub in Australia’s Blue Mountains.
Connecting with dads through art
Angus Olsen's first book was My NG Tube.
Even though I was no longer working professionally as an artist, I kept up my skills.
After Jane got sick, I connected over social media with dads whose children had rhabdomyosarcoma. I shared my drawings. The other fathers told me that they could use my artwork to help explain their own situations to others.
As my fellow “rhabdo dads” shared my work, parents from all over the world began to follow me on Facebook.
After Jane’s cancer was gone, I created a comic about what a nasal gastric (NG) tube is. The comic was 10 frames and poorly thrown together. I put it on my Facebook page.
It went viral. Thousands of parents, doctors, nurses, therapists, and charities from all over the world joined my Facebook page.
Soon after, I got a message from a mother in Florida who said, “Angus, I wanted to tell you about my son. We could not get his NG tube down. He screamed and fought. If we got it in, he would rip it out. I remembered seeing your book, My NG Tube. We sat down and read it together on my phone. He lay back on the bed and said, ‘OK.’ We got the NG tube in. Thank you.”
I threw myself into drawing books for young children as fast as I could. I changed the name of my Facebook page to “I Draw Childhood Cancer.” Not terribly clever, but the idea took flight.
Through “I Draw Childhood Cancer,” I have created many books on various childhood cancer subjects. They are free and downloadable on the website. The books are available in more than 25 languages thanks to the passionate work of volunteers around the world.
Cartoons express what words cannot
Parents have told Angus Olsen that they can see themselves in his artwork.
Cartoons are sometimes seen as a lesser art form, but this is not the case. Pictorial communication is older than writing.
Great art is a mirror. I think people see more of themselves through a simple cartoon than anything the great masters have done. Think of the children’s cartoon Bluey and how families connect with it. To me, it is a masterpiece of modern family representation at the level of anything hanging in the Louvre.
I found there was a need for simple explanations of complex medical information. For the most part, I am drawing what I watched happen to my own daughter and family. Sometimes people ask for certain topics.
I use simple language, a sentence or 2 per page. I keep the drawings simple but familiar. I try to depict characters honestly.
I share the book with the pediatric oncology community so they can make suggestions and corrections.
The impact of 'I Draw Childhood Cancer'
Angus Olsen is thankful so many families find his books helpful. Here he reads to Jane.
I have worked with many childhood cancer charities globally, but the main one is the Grace Kelly Childhood Cancer Trust in the United Kingdom. The foundation used my work for National Health Service clinics. More than 40,000 booklets have been distributed.
Volunteers from around the world have translated my work for their countries—a dad from Mexico, a pharmacist in Italy, a mother in a Ukrainian bunker as the bombs fell, a surgeon in Brazil, a professor in Taiwan, and a nurse in Greece.
At first, I wrote these books for specific children and used them as the characters. Over time, I created original characters. For the book My Scans, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if an indigenous Australian girl could teach people all over the world about scans?” I named her Kirra, which is the Murri Nation word for “life.”
Angus Olsen incudes diverse characters in his books.
Sadly, there is a misconception in some places that childhood cancer is “a white person’s disease.” This is because of charity marketing and materials over the decades. I was determined to change that by creating diverse characters, to push against pseudo-science therapy, misconceptions, and falsehoods.
The messages I receive are incredibly humbling. It is a joy I cannot describe. A child knowing that they are not being punished, that the pain they feel now is meant to help lessen pain in the future, that they are not alone, and that other kids are living the same thing.
Some couples who have lost a child told me they sit together, look through my work together, and weep to feel the things they cannot say.
As you read through my books and look at the pictures, I hope my work is helpful to you. Please know that none of this was your fault. Know that no matter how dark it gets, there are helpers. You will be surprised by who steps up and who disappears.
You will not be the same after this. Some of us give ourselves to charity in gratitude. But it is equally valuable to simply live. You should feel no guilt in that.
Today, Jane is doing excellent. She starts high school next year. Her cancer has been gone since 2017. You would never know the hell she went through if not for the scars. We are so grateful.
