The hallway outside the treatment room is quiet, but inside those walls, a war is happening — a war being fought by a boy whose strength keeps humbling everyone who meets him.

Cy has just finished Chemo Round #8 — five brutal days that tested every inch of his body. The early days of this round were especially cruel. The pain was so intense that even Tylenol, taken again and again, began to damage his liver. His tiny frame curled with discomfort, and the photo from that day says everything his voice couldn’t.

But this is Cy.

And Cy does not break.

Doctors switched him to Dilaudid to help manage the agony, and slowly, the pain eased — not disappeared, but dulled enough for him to breathe again, to focus, to keep moving forward in a fight no child should ever have to fight.

Now, Cy is under anesthesia at UC Health for his first localized radiation treatment — a day his family has been counting down to, praying for, hoping would arrive quickly enough to give him a shot at catching up to his disease.

Today, it arrived.

And with it, a new chapter in his battle.

Eight Rounds In: A Body Tested, A Spirit Unshaken

Chemotherapy is never easy.
High-dose chemotherapy is brutal.
And Cy has faced it not once or twice — but eight times.

His body is tired.
His liver is strained.
His bones ache.
His energy dips and crashes.

And yet, every day, his determination makes even the adults around him stand still in awe.

He wants to heal.
He wants to fight.
He wants to win.

His family says it again and again:
“I’m astounded every day by how determined he is.”

This isn’t a child giving in.
This is a child pushing back.

With everything he has.

The Targets: Skull. Pelvis. The Places Cancer Hit the Hardest.

Cy’s disease has settled in some of the most painful, complex areas of his body — his skull and pelvis. These are not areas that respond quickly. They are places where treatment must be precise, aggressive, and carefully timed.

For weeks, his medical team focused on shrinking what they could with high-dose chemo — and miraculously, Cy responded. The tumors didn’t just slow; they reacted, giving his doctors a glimpse of hope they desperately needed.

But chemo alone isn’t enough.

And that’s where today becomes so important.

Radiation is now stepping in — the first localized treatment aimed right at the areas where cancer remains strongest. His team hopes that by combining both targeted radiation and powerful chemotherapy, Cy’s body will not onlystabilize but also begin to kill the disease that has stolen too much time, too much comfort, and too much childhood from him.

This is more than a treatment plan.

It is a strategy.
A coordinated attack.
A chance.

And Cy deserves every inch of that chance.

Hope, Fear, and Everything In Between

His family has been living in that impossible space — the one between hope and fear — for months.

They have watched him cry.
They have watched him shake from pain.
They have watched nurses gently adjust wires and lines.
They have watched doctors debate every treatment as if each decision weighs a world.

But they have also watched something else:

Cy’s fight.

His stubbornness.
His quiet bravery.
His refusal to complain even when everything hurts.

There is a reason people call him a warrior — not because the word fits the medical battle, but because it fits him.

A Community That Refuses to Let Them Fight Alone

Over the past few days, the kindness surrounding Cy’s family has been overwhelming.

People donated to his GoFundMe.
They delivered meals.
They sent gift cards.
They messaged.
They prayed.
They showed up.

Each gesture mattered.
Each donation lifted a piece of the heavy financial weight.
Each message reminded them that even in the hardest moments, they are not carrying this alone.

Cy’s family says it often, but today it feels even more true:

“We are so grateful to be surrounded by so much love, prayer, and support.”

And they mean it with their whole hearts.

The Road Ahead: Painful, Uncertain, but Full of Fight

Radiation comes with its own side effects — fatigue, soreness, skin sensitivity, appetite changes.
Chemo will continue to wear down his strength.
What lies ahead is still difficult, still unknown, still shaped by the unpredictability of childhood cancer.

But Cy isn’t slowing down.
His team isn’t slowing down.
His family definitely isn’t slowing down.

Because as long as Cy keeps fighting, everyone around him will fight too.

His journey is not defined by cancer.
It is defined by courage.

And every appointment, every needle, every sleepless night pushes him one step closer to healing.

Why Today Matters

Today is more than a medical milestone.
It’s a turning point.

Localized radiation isn’t just another line on a chart — it’s a weapon aimed directly at the strongest parts of his disease. It’s hope wrapped in science. It’s progress wrapped in bravery.

And it is one more reason to believe he can win this.

His family ends every update with the same message, one that grows louder with every round of treatment, every act of kindness, every moment Cy proves he is stronger than cancer:

“We love you all. And so does Cy.”

And today, as radiation begins targeting the places chemo couldn’t reach, there is a new feeling in the air:

Hope.
Real hope.
Hard-earned hope.

The kind only a fighter like Cy could create.