Anika thought her shortness of breath was due to her pregnancy. A fall revealed the truth. 

Most of us never get to meet our heroes. We admire them from afar, emulate them however we can. But Brisbane woman Anika Dean spent most of her life living under the same roof as hers. Her father.

He was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia when she was just five. A disease that had already claimed the lives of two of Anika’s aunts.

Now aged 23, Anika can clearly recall the hospital visits, the waiting rooms, their special accommodation near the hospital. But what stands out to her most about that time was her father’s absence; “just him not being there”.

Chemotherapy, radiotherapy and a stem cell transplant halted his cancer. But 15 years later he would face an arguably even bigger struggle – watching his daughter go through the same thing.

Yes, three years ago came the family’s fourth blow. Anika too had AML, and she was 20 weeks pregnant.

“Nothing triggered me to think anything was wrong.”

Acute Myleoid Lukemia is a relatively rare form of cancer that affects the blood and bone marrow. Roughly 900 Australians are diagnosed annually, most commonly adults aged over 60.

It develops quickly, and most patients only report feeling unwell for a short period of time before diagnosis. Typical symptoms include anaemia (which in turn can cause persistent tiredness, dizziness, paleness, or shortness of breath), frequent or repeated infections and slow healing, increased or unexplained bleeding or bruising, also bone pain, swollen lymph nodes, swollen gums, chest pain and abdominal discomfort.

Anika’s symptoms were mild, and easily ignored.

"I figured, I'm just pregnant. The shortness of breath? I'm just pregnant. I'm carrying a lot more weight than I should - I'm just pregnant," she said. "Nothing even triggered me to think that there was anything wrong."

It was a fall at work that revealed the truth. Anika went to hospital as a precaution, and blood tests revealed she was anaemic. Again, relatively normal for pregnancy, but something was different this time.

"I don't know what came over me, but I just thought, 'Oh my gosh, Dad had cancer; this is probably like that.' I just said, 'Hey, my dad had [AML] and there's a family history... I don't know why, but my gut is telling me that you should look into it,'" Anika recalled.

"I had a bone marrow aspiration the next day and that was exactly what they found."

When Anika heard the words, she went numb, paralysed. With thoughts of her unborn baby, she managed a question: "Am I going to die?"

Fortunately, her prognosis was good. But the doctor began talking to her mother about termination, for the sake of her treatment. It angered her at first.

"I just thought, 'I can't get rid of this baby. This baby is going to be all I've got at the end of this.' It was gut wrenching," she said.

"I don't know if it's just another gut instinct, but I feared if I don't have this one, when am I going to have any children. Because I know that going through cancer could quite possibly ruin my chances."

Talon was born at 29 weeks by c-section.

The progression of Anika's AML slowed after the birth, allowing her to pump breast milk and be with her son in the NICU for his first two months of life. After that, she began treatment to help save her own.

Two rounds of chemo, a bone marrow transplant courtesy of a foreign donor, and radiation. With several infections and setbacks in between.

Over the seven or eight months that it all unfolded, Talon was mostly in the care of her mother-in-law ("She's one amazing woman") and a little with her family. She could count the number of times she saw her son on one hand. Her partner, too, was torn between her and their little boy.

"During treatment I just ended up with the worst depression I've had a very long time," she said.

"I really struggled with the fact that I had a baby at home that I knew nothing about. I'd barely held him, I'd barely even touched him. It was really, really difficult."

Support was crucial. There was no one in the oncology wards her age, no young mothers. That's where organisations like Canteen came in.

"I had a representative of Canteen come out," she said. "She used to quite see me quite regularly because of everything that was going on. She'd come see me and see how I was doing. It was really good to have that sort of support."

Anika is now healthy and cancer-free. As is her father, who's now been in remission 17 years. Together, along with her partner and family, they are relishing watching little Talon - now two - grow up.

"I wake up every day looking forward to seeing my son, because I spent that time not being with him. So I'm grateful for being here. I really, really am, and I don't take anything for granted," she said.

"Because of what I went through, Talon will grow up knowing that life is grand, and no matter what goes wrong there is always some sort of solution, there is always a way through the tunnel."

Tomorrow, Friday October 26 is national Bandanna Day; an annual fundraising event for youth cancer organisation Canteen. Each year, Canteen provides much needed counselling and support to young people touched by cancer, just like Anika.

Find out where you can buy a bandanna or donate via the Canteen website.