Georgia mother, toddler both diagnosed with cancer

Wearing chunky pearls and pink and white stripes, 17-month old London Wilson is back at the Aflac Cancer Center at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite, for a checkup that could be a very big deal.

Her mother Heather Wilson is visibly anxious.

"Nervous," she says, "Very, very nervous."

Earlier this morning, London was sedated for an MRI and a CT scan,

"I've just been praying and praying and praying," Heather Wilson says.

The family is on-edge because they will finally learn whether four months of intense chemotherapy have done their job, and the cancer in London's pelvis.

"I just have this strong feeling that she's going to be okay," Heather says.

But, really, nothing has been even close to "okay," for this 32-year old Covington, Georgia, mother of 3 since last June, when, in an instant, her life changed course.

"All a sudden I started having seizures one day," Wilson remembers.

Rushed to her local ER, doctors found a brain tumor, and Heather Wilson found herself a patient at Emory's Winship Cancer Institute, going through weeks of radiation, then months of chemotherapy.

"I just finished my 6th round of chemo," Wilson says. "I've lost a lot of weight. I'm sleepy all the time. It's just a battle."

And it's a battle Heather knows she may not win because of the nature of her cancer.

"Mine is scary; mine is inoperable," Wilson says. "So I look at mine like, 'Is this going to be the death of me?' I just want to be here long enough for her (London) to remember me."

As Heather pushed through her cancer treatment, another complication.

She found blood in London's diaper.

After taking her from doctor to doctor, they finally got a diagnosis.

Her youngest child had a germ cell cancer in her pelvis.

"I mean, I almost dropped to my knees," Heather Wilson says.

Now, both mother and daughter were fighting for their lives.

Brandi Witiw, Heather's sister says, "It really kid of indescribable. It's hard to talk about it."

That's why this appointment the AFLAC Cancer Center matters so much.

Pediatric oncologist Dr. Bradley George gets right to the point.

"I've got all good news," Dr. George tells Heather. "It's gone. I don't see anything."

No more chemo, no surgery, no radiation. London, Dr. George says, is "cured."

"I know I'm crying, but I'm so happy," Heather says, hugging her daughter. "I'm so happy!"

A few days later, Brandi Witiw is grateful her niece is on the other side of cancer.

"Nothing stopped her," Witiw says. "Cancer didn't stop her. And she beat it, it's gone."

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