The message arrived like a chilling premonition. A stranger’s note to his wife spoke of two deaths in Canterbury, and a terrible thought took root in Anthony Mills’ mind – he’d recently emailed the university about meningitis concerns.
His world fractured in early January with the loss of his son, Aaron, to a rare and aggressive strain of meningitis B. The disease, he says, doesn’t just take a life; it utterly dismantles everything around it.
Aaron had only just begun to blossom, a few months into university life, transforming into the man he was meant to be. His future, brimming with promise, was brutally stolen.
It began with symptoms easily dismissed as “freshers’ flu” – a common cold, nagging headaches. Aaron returned home, seeking comfort, and spent a quiet evening watching a film with his family: Anthony, his mother Deniz, and his sister Casey.
The next morning brought a terrifying shock. Aaron suffered a seizure, discovered by his father after waking with a headache and returning to bed. Half an hour later, he was unresponsive.
A desperate race against time followed, a blur of hospital visits – first Worcester Royal, then University Hospital Coventry. Neurosurgeons fought valiantly, attempting to relieve the pressure on his brain, but the illness proved relentless.
The diagnosis revealed the devastating truth: Aaron had contracted Meningitis B during his first term. Anthony, unaware of the specific dangers of this strain, now believes knowledge could have saved his son’s life.
He questions why crucial information wasn’t readily available during the university application process. A simple awareness campaign, he believes, could have altered their fate.
Meningitis B remains a hidden threat, not fully covered by routine teenage vaccinations. While the Bexsero jab offers protection, it’s not universally available, and many families are unaware of the difference in vaccines or the cost – often between £180 and £280 for the complete course.
Young people, particularly those in close-quarters university settings, are especially vulnerable. Anthony is now on a mission to raise awareness, contacting every MP in the country to advocate for wider access to the Bexsero vaccine.
He’s also reaching out to universities and student unions, urging them to share vital information from charities like Meningitis Now. His hope is to prevent other families from experiencing the same agonizing loss.
The grief is a constant companion, a suffocating weight. “You still wake up,” he says, his voice heavy with sorrow, “and you can’t believe that you haven’t got a son anymore.”
Finding a positive outcome, a way to honor Aaron’s memory by protecting others, is the only path towards a semblance of peace. It’s a father’s desperate plea, born from unimaginable heartbreak.
