Such is the seriousness of the endeavour that it can boast of a chief of medical physics, Vladimir Vondracek, who previously worked on the Large Hadron Collider at Cern in Switzerland.
On arrival, the Kings may well be stunned by the surroundings. The huge white lobby – all gleaming tiles, enormous tropical fish tanks, brightly coloured chairs and espresso bar – is about as far from the entrance to any British hospital (NHS or private) I have ever seen. It feels more like the lobby of a trendy metropolitan hotel. Yet it is very quiet, and there is certainly no hospital smell.
The cheerful children's room is full of toys – ranging from Barbie dolls to miniaturised proton therapy units carved from wood, and "Professor Proton" themed colouring books and puzzles. There are suites of the latest diagnostic equipment, from CT scanners to MRIs, and four therapy rooms, one of which has a bed seemingly inside a large wheel, which means the beam of protons can be targeted at almost any angle. The clinic is not yet running to full capacity, though this is not due to a lack of potential patients; in another 12 months, they expect to be treating around 2,500 cases a year.
Iva Tatounova, director of strategy at the clinic, says she expects to welcome the Kings here, promising they will be in safe hands. "We know we can treat Ashya, although he will need chemotherapy first, either in England or at the Motol University Hospital here," she adds. There is also some suggestion that the Kings might seek initial chemotherapy treatment in Spain. "We have seen two sets of scans now, and are already making the calculations."
She finds it difficult to understand why the Kings were initially denied access to their son's records when they decided to look for alternative treatment to the regime of chemotherapy and radiotherapy that was being offered in Southampton. (Mr King's principal worry was that the radiation would destroy not just the cancerous cells but also healthy tissue, which would leave his son brain damaged.)
"Don't you own your personal records in the UK?" she asks, in mock surprise.
So I ask how treatment at the private Proton Therapy Centre would be better than the NHS routine – after all, Southampton is a centre of excellence, and no one should doubt that the British medical team would be just as determined to help Ashya survive as any Czech doctor. Proton therapy, Ms Tatounova explains, is an improved form of radiotherapy. Sub-atomic particles called protons are accelerated until they reach half the speed of light in a spinning device called a "cyclotron" – and then targeted at the cancer in an invisible beam of energy.
Plotted on 3D computer models, the beam of proton radiation is much narrower (thus avoiding non-diseased tissue), and does not pass beyond the tumour itself. Nor is it the same strength throughout the beam: radiation is kept at a low level until the protons hit their designated target, at which point all hell breaks loose for the malignant cells.
It works best for solid tumours – prostate, lung, and brain. And it is especially suitable for children, Ms Tatounova tells me.
Was she surprised that British doctors refused to recommend it? There is, after all, a smaller cyclotron machine at the Clatterbridge Cancer Centre in Liverpool, which is used to treat eye cancers, and the NHS is building two centres, one in London and one in Manchester expected to open in 2018.
"Yes and no," she says. "It is expensive, yes, but we are happy to organise a discounted price. We have invited British doctors to see how we work, to accompany their patients, to train with us, but no one has come. We've had some British patients [paying privately], but no doctors.
"Mind you, I think some Czech doctors have also struggled to accept it; I can think of one oncologist in Brno who won't send his patients here, either. He prefers traditional radiotherapy."
Martina and Pavel Novak did not have to argue their case for proton beam therapy too long. Matej (who has a twin brother, Marek) was diagnosed with a rare form of head and neck cancer last spring.
Swollen glands and a high temperature that didn't respond to intravenous antibiotics were investigated, and following a biopsy a six-centimetre tumour uncovered in his neck. Not long afterwards, an MRI showed that the cancer was spreading – behind his eyes and nose, and into his brain.
"It was a horrible feeling," says Martina. "We were told the cancer was very aggressive, hugely malignant and hardly curable. It was olfactory neuroblastoma – very rare. So we were sent to the Motol University Hospital in Prague, which specialises in paediatric oncology."
At first, the Novaks accepted the advice of their doctors, and Matej was started on eight 10-day cycles of chemotherapy. "He handled it well," says his mother. The medical team had planned to follow the chemotherapy with surgery to remove what was left of the tumour, and then conventional radiotherapy to destroy any remaining malignant tissue. But by then the Novaks were carrying out their own research.
When the chemo ended, an MRI scan showed that the tumour had been destroyed, and there was no need for surgery. The Novaks asked for proton beam therapy instead of conventional radiotherapy. "We knew it would be safer and gentler, and we insisted." Initially sceptical, their doctors agreed to approve the therapy as long as the family's insurance company paid the bill, which it agreed to do.
Even if it had refused, Martina is adamant that the money would have been found for treatment. "We planned to sell our house; our car; start a public appeal. We would have done anything."
Three weeks later, in December last year, Matej began the first of 32 sessions, each of which lasted no more than five minutes. He was given additional chemotherapy, and by January 20, his proton beam therapy was over.
Subsequent MRI scans in March and June have shown no sign of recurrence, and his prognosis is promising. "It must carry on like this," says Martina. "I know it will never come back."
She and Pavel are "very happy; there couldn't be a better result. The boys are back to normal, playing and fighting with each other."
To the Kings, she sends this message: "Don't give up; fight; believe. I would do exactly the same as you did. Keep trying, persist, have courage – and it will work out."
For more information about the Proton Therapy Centre, visit ptc.cz
Source : http://telegraph.feedsportal.com/c/32726/f/568612/s/3e326801/sc/14/l/0L0Stelegraph0O0Chealth0C110A774920CProton0ETherapy0ECentre0EWere0Eready0Eto0Etreat0EAshya0EKing0Bhtml/story01.htm