It’s Go Time in Rome: A Mother’s Cells, A Son’s Fight, and a Family’s Faith
In a medical facility in Rome, Italy, Robertsdale, Alabama’s own Nichole Blevins lies waiting as doctors prepare to collect what she calls her “mama cells.” These are not just ordinary cells—they are the hope of saving her son Branson’s life.
Eleven-year-old Branson Blevins has been locked in a fierce battle with leukemia. He has already endured more than most adults face in a lifetime: chemotherapy, countless hospital stays, fear, exhaustion, and the weight of an uncertain future. But today marks a new chapter, one filled with both risk and remarkable possibility.
Rome is seven hours ahead of U.S. Central Time. That means if you’re reading this at 1 a.m. in Alabama, it’s already 8 a.m. there, and Nichole’s day has begun. If you’re reading this at 7 a.m., she is already halfway through her procedure. Time feels different today—not just measured in hours and minutes, but in prayers and heartbeats.
Last night, just before she drifted off to sleep, Nichole shared her thoughts. They were words heavy with emotion, but also radiant with hope:
“As we get ready for bed and prepare for tomorrow, I can feel the weight of it all settling on my chest. Tomorrow, I go in for apheresis… it’s the process where they’ll collect my immune cells to be reengineered into cancer-fighting cells for Branson. After collection, it’ll take about three weeks to modify and multiply them in the lab. And then, when Branson is strong enough, those cells will be infused into him with one goal…to recognize and destroy the leukemia that has already taken so much.”
This therapy is groundbreaking. For Branson’s rare T-cell leukemia, the treatment is still experimental, with no existing data to confirm its effectiveness. That uncertainty alone is terrifying. But Nichole and her family are holding tightly to the remarkable success the therapy has had in treating B-cell leukemia, where remission rates in some trials have exceeded 80 percent.
“That’s the hope we’re holding onto,” Nichole wrote. “What worked for them can work for Branson too. That this can be his miracle!”
But Nichole’s vision stretches beyond her own child. “Maybe even more than that,” she continued, “this could be history in the making. Branson is one of the first to receive this type of therapy for his rare subtype. Branson could help unlock a future for other kids who are told there is nothing left. We’re not just fighting for our boy. We’re fighting for all the ones who will come after him.”
Her words echo with both fear and faith. “It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. But it’s also sacred ground. Please, please pray for us. Pray the collection goes smoothly. Pray that the cells are strong and do exactly what they’re created to do. Pray for protection over Branson’s body and over the long road ahead. We are stepping into the unknown, but we’re stepping in with faith and with an army behind us.”
For anyone who has followed the Blevins family’s journey, these words are a reminder of the courage and love that has defined their fight. Branson has shown remarkable strength. His parents, Nichole and Donald, have shown tireless devotion. His siblings have stood bravely by, each of them bound together by faith and determination.
Today, as Nichole’s cells are collected in Rome, it feels like the world itself is holding its breath. It is more than a medical procedure—it is a mother giving of herself in the most profound way, and a family placing everything in God’s hands.
It’s go time in Rome. And it’s time for all of us, wherever we are, to lift up the Blevins family in prayer.