At just 14 years old, Will Roberts has been forced to fight a battle most adults would struggle to endure. He never complains. He never wallows. Instead, he hopes—hopes for healing, for strength, and for the chance to stand once again on two legs.
Will is facing osteosarcoma, an aggressive form of bone cancer. His journey has already demanded sacrifices few can imagine. Weeks ago, surgeons amputated his left leg at the knee. Yet, in a remarkable medical procedure called rotationplasty, doctors reattached his ankle and foot to his upper leg, rotating the foot backward so that his heel now sits where his knee once was. This unique reconstruction will allow Will to be fitted with a prosthetic leg that will give him far greater mobility than a standard amputation could ever provide.

The road to that moment, however, is steep. Will is currently enduring one of the most punishing chemotherapy regimens available. Among his treatments is doxorubicin—nicknamed the “red devil” for its fiery color and its harsh toll on the body. Despite the grueling nature of the drug, Will faces each dose with a quiet resilience.
His mother, Brittney, recently shared an update that reflects both the pain and the small victories that have come to define their new reality. “After yesterday’s dose, we didn’t know what to expect with sickness,” she explained. “We were surprised and happy when Will woke about 7:00pm and requested Mexican food. Off for a little Mexican fiesta we went, and he had a full appetite. Those are the small things we take as a ‘win’ these days.”

That sense of finding joy in small victories has become the family’s lifeline. With every treatment, every hospital visit, and every sleepless night, Will’s parents, Jason and Brittney, remain at his side. They measure progress not just in lab results, but in moments—a good meal, a restful nap, or the sight of Will smiling despite everything.
The family’s days are carefully orchestrated around treatment. After each clinic visit, Will begins hours of saline fluid therapy at home, designed to protect his kidneys from the toxic effects of chemotherapy. His care plan is relentless: preparing his body for the next dose, waiting for his leg to heal, and counting down the days until he can be fitted for his prosthetic.

That milestone—his first prosthetic fitting—is expected to come at the end of chemotherapy, provided his recovery stays on track. For Will, it is more than just a medical step. It represents independence, dignity, and the promise of a future beyond cancer’s shadow.
What makes Will’s story even more extraordinary is not just his resilience, but his compassion. Despite his own struggle, he has taken time to support others walking a similar road. Just weeks ago, he visited fellow cancer patient Branson Blevins while both were undergoing treatment at MD Anderson in Houston. In the midst of his own fight, Will found room in his heart to encourage someone else.

That generosity of spirit has not gone unnoticed. Those who know Will describe him as kind, thoughtful, and selfless. He worries less about himself than about how his illness affects his family. Even in pain, his heart remains steady and giving.
The months ahead will not be easy. More rounds of chemotherapy await, along with the emotional toll of waiting, hoping, and enduring. But Will Roberts is more than his diagnosis. He is a son, a friend, a student at Sipsey Middle School, and a young man determined to rise again.
For now, he continues to fight with courage, grace, and a quiet strength that inspires everyone around him. And those who follow his journey hold tightly to the same hope he does—that he will soon take his first steps on his new leg, not as a victim of cancer, but as a survivor who chose to fight with heart.
Maverick’s Return to Joy: From Hospital Halls to Home on the Horizon
For weeks, the hospital has been Maverick’s world — a place of needles, medicines, and long days filled with waiting. But this week, his family has reason to celebrate. The little boy they call “crazy Maverick” is back, full of energy, curiosity, and joy.
The transformation was clear during his walk through the hospital corridors this morning. Maverick couldn’t stop smiling as he strolled past rooms and waved at nurses, delighting in seeing his friends who have cared for him so faithfully. He was nosey, chatty, and full of life — a far cry from the days when exhaustion kept him tethered to his bed. For his parents, the sight of their son walking, laughing, and exploring was nothing short of a miracle.
In his room, the atmosphere has changed too. Maverick’s sister, determined to bring comfort and love to her brother’s space, gave him a gift and decorated his room with her artwork. Now, cheerful drawings line the walls, filling the sterile space with color and warmth. One crab keeps watch over his medications, while a teddy bear dangles playfully from his bed. These simple touches — born of a sister’s love — remind Maverick that home is never too far away, even in the middle of a hospital stay.
The best news of all: Maverick is expected to go home early next week. After so many difficult days, the thought of walking out of the hospital doors fills his family with relief and gratitude. Discharge planning is already underway, with doctors and nurses coordinating medications, follow-ups, and at-home care. There are still hurdles to cross, but the finish line is finally in sight.
The family knows the journey isn’t completely over. Maverick will need to return for gallbladder removal surgery, a step that doctors hope to plan and manage carefully once he is strong enough. But compared to the battles he has already fought, this feels like a manageable step — one they can face with renewed strength after time at home.
The anticipation of home is fueling everyone’s spirits. After weeks of hospital food, beeping monitors, and sleepless nights, the idea of sitting around their own table, sleeping in familiar beds, and enjoying life outside hospital walls feels like the sweetest gift. For Maverick, it will mean toys, laughter, and freedom. For his family, it will mean breathing a little easier, even if just for a while.
His recovery is proof of resilience — the resilience of a child who has endured more than most adults and still greets the world with curiosity and a smile. It is also a reminder of the power of love. His sister’s drawings, the visits from nurses, the steady encouragement of his parents — all of it has created a cocoon of support that has carried Maverick through the hardest moments.
There have been setbacks, moments of fear, and days when hope felt fragile. But now, with home on the horizon, the family can see how far they’ve come. They can look at Maverick’s grin, hear his laughter in the hallways, and know that brighter days are ahead.
For those who have followed his journey, prayed for him, and sent messages of encouragement, this moment is a victory to share. Maverick’s family is deeply grateful for the love that has surrounded them. Every kind word, every prayer, every bit of support has mattered.
“Crazy Maverick” is back — full of spirit, humor, and energy. The hospital room may still hold him for a few more days, but his heart is already racing toward home. Soon, the sterile walls will be replaced with the comfort of family life, and the sound of laughter will drown out the memory of monitors and machines.
There will be more appointments, more procedures, and more challenges down the road. But for now, there is joy. For now, there is relief. For now, there is the blessing of a little boy walking the hospital halls, smiling at every nurse, and reminding everyone that resilience and love can bring light even in the darkest times.
And very soon, that light will shine even brighter — because Maverick is finally going home.
