They left for Blackpool with suitcases full of excitement and a car full of laughter. On the drive home, Jaxon’s complaints sounded like any child’s bug: a sore tummy, a bit of pain, a fever that paracetamol should calm. By dawn, his mother was staring at a rash that seemed, at first, like chickenpox. Minutes later, her little boy was fighting for breath, his mouth swelling, his body failing in front of her eyes.
In hospital, surrounded by 15 doctors, Jaxon cried blood as his parents sang lullabies and begged the machines to keep him alive. Meningococcal disease stole him in less than a day. Now his parents, shattered but determined, are using their grief to warn others: don’t dismiss sudden rashes, fast fevers, or changes in breathing. Trust your fear. Demand help. Jaxon’s life ended in hours — his legacy might save another child’s.
