Thanks to her mother's instinct that something serious was wrong and a quick diagnosis from her doctor she was treated quickly and has now made a full recovery.

Asked about her treatment, Maria has mixed memories. "I was a bit scared, but mummy told me that it was over. But I was still in hospital and I was awake." However, she also remembers some good things. "My favourite food in hospital was cucumber and chocolate."

If Maria had been born 20 years ago, her mother agrees the outcome would have been very different.

"I don't think she would have ever made it out of the first hospital," she says. "[It's] just astronomical every year how much research does for all the different types of drugs … and how it targets different cancers."

Although Maria's story is extraordinary, it is also reflective of the immense strides in the treatment and prevention of cancer that have raised the prospect that some types of the disease will be cured within a generation.

More people are now surviving cancer in Australia than dying from it, with the disease striking one in two people but only killing one in five before the age of 85, according to the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare.

Australian Cancer Research Foundation chief executive Ian Brown says dramatic increases in cancer survival rates are being driven by new research projects, and cervical cancer has already been cured by the invention of a vaccine.

Other promising research includes a project that will allow doctors to treat children's cancer cells outside the body to avoid exposing them to toxic treatments and software that can track the movement of tumours to reduce by half the amount of radiation that will be needed.

"We understand more about the cancers, we're learning to treat them better and less invasively and therefore the outcomes are going to be better," Professor Brown says.

In the period 1982-87, less than half of Australians diagnosed with cancer would live another five years. By 2005-10 this figure was closer to two thirds.

The survival rate for prostate cancer has increased from 58 per cent to 92 per cent, with most of the gain attributed to better detection methods.

The Children's Hospital at Westmead's oncology head Dr Luciano Dalla-Pozza says it shifting people's perceptions of cancer as knockout punch is difficult even though the overall survival rate for childhood cancer was now more than 80 per cent.

"Jane McGrath is dead and that's what people remember," Dr Dalla-Pozza says.

"They don't remember the vast majority who survive."

Many childhood cancer survivors will enter adulthood with long-term problems, including other cancers, disruptions to their organs, infertility and lower IQ.

"But it doesn't affect your capacity to be human, to laugh, giggle, or change your personality per se," Dr Dalla-Pozza says.

"If we could cure cancer with 10 pills then the textbooks would be one page long. But the reality is that we fail 20 per cent of the time and those children die and we focus on what went wrong."

The Australian Cancer Research Foundation has launched a new internet domain - .cancerresearch - to collate all credible sources on cancer research in a single place.

It is also offering a $10 million research grant to a group or consortium.

"We're doing this in a climate where funding for medical research is certainly not robust," Dr Brown says.

"The whole area of private philanthropy comes into play because we're making up some of that."

The cancers with the best survival rates are testicular, lip, prostate, thyroid and melanoma. Pancreatic cancer, mesothelioma and certain types of brain cancer are the most deadly.

Guardian angel who saved Maria Psaradellis

"I knew something was wrong with her. I knew in my gut something was wrong with her, but I wasn't convinced it was what they were trying to tell me at the other hospital," the frustrated mother of Maria Psaradellis says.

Now nine years old, Maria Psaradellis was diagnosed with a malignant Primitive Neuroectodermal Tumour (PNET) on her neck at 11 weeks of age.

However, consistent respiratory issues during the three weeks prior kept causing her to stop breathing.

"As soon as I saw her, she just went blue, pale and stopped breathing. I basically just put her on my knees and resuscitated her as well as I knew," Maria's mother Cathy Psaradellis says, describing the first time her daughter stopped breathing. "I had never done CPR before, so I just basically did what you see in movies. Whatever I did, it worked."

Due to her quick recovery, the doctors diagnosed her with laryngomalacia, the collapsing of soft, immature cartilage of the upper larynx.

It wasn't until three weeks later when Maria was rushed to the Sydney Children's Hospital at Randwick that doctors found a large mass pressing on her windpipe.

"All she would have to do is just cry. As soon as she'd cry, she'd turn blue and that's it. So doctors were basically resuscitating her every couple of minutes," Psaradellis says.

Paediatric oncologist and researcher Professor Glenn Marshall, on his first sighting of Maria, diagnosed cancer.

"I felt this instant trust. I trusted him with her life," Psaradellis says. "We need so many clones of him it's not funny."

After 19 months of chemotherapy, Maria is now six and a half years cancer free. Passing the critical five year survival mark is something her mother recognises is because of clinical research and the expertise of Marshall.

"Throughout her treatment, she had a lot of moments where we could have lost her again. But, here she is, amazingly, because of research," she says.

"Learning from past kids, and their experiences and how they've reacted to certain drugs. That does play a big part, because everyone reacts differently and sometimes they may come across a kid that has reacted similar to someone they've had already."

The boy who lived

Motivational speaker Michael Crossland. Photo: Wolter Peeters

Doctors call Michael Crossland a miracle. They don't know how he is still alive.

Crossland was diagnosed with neuroblastoma at 11 months old and he was given an experimental drug treatment called dacarbazine, or DTIC.

His earliest memory is of having DTIC treatment to his head, because his arms were too badly damaged from the treatment.

"When you've got scabs and scars all over your body, and you're wrapped up in bandages, you can't move and your mum can't hold you and pick you up and cuddle you, then, you realise there is something majorly wrong."

Twenty four out of 25 people in Crossland's group taking DTIC died. But somehow, he survived.

DTIC is now used to treat Hodgkin lymphoma and melanoma, although it's use is decreasing in favour of more advanced drugs. (source: http://www.cancerresearchuk.org/about-cancer/cancers-in-general/treatment/cancer-drugs/dacarbazine ;; USYD Prof. Michael Boyer)

"Without medical research, a drug that fortunately, but unfortunately, saved my life," he says. "I say that because it killed 24 out of 25 of us, but  "I'm the lucky one I guess."

Mr Crossland was part of an experimental drug treatment called dacarbazine, or DTIC as it's more commonly known, after being diagnosed with neuroblastoma at 11-months-old.  His earliest life memory is of having DTIC treatment to his head, because his arms were too badly damaged from the treatment.

People now call Crossland, 30,  and inspiration in their lives. However, Crossland's inspiration is someone closer to home.

"I say that hope is one of the most powerful words in the English dictionary. [My mum] instilled hope into my heart, and that drug sadly that killed [24 little angels] (said this when describing why his baseball number is 24) (originally said so many people), instilled hope into hers and that gave us the courage, the strength, the optimism and the resilience to stay strong through that period of time.

"I think you're scared when the drug that they're putting in your arm is going into other kids arms in the same room and every other day, one of them is getting wheeled out in a body bag.

"I was the lucky one, not just because I'm alive but because all I had to do was feel the pain; my mum was the unlucky one because she had to watch it. She had to make the decision every day to keep putting in a drug in my body that killed everybody that was on it. That's, that's real fear. It was 'stop the drug, and your son is going to die, or continue with the drugs, and it's probably going to kill him'."

Crossland is still feeling the effects of the treatment. At 12, years of age, he suffered his first of two heart attacks. At 19, his second (described as "major cardiac arrest"), while he was realising his dream of playing baseball in the United States. Three years ago, he was diagnosed with Bell's Palsy, essentially suffering a stroke on the right hand side of his body. All these conditions are a result of continuing muscle degradation from the DTIC treatment.

"I want to hear one day a doctor say, 'everything is going to be OK, you've only got cancer'."

"I can't wait until my children hear a doctor say, just take these tablets three times a day for the next two weeks and that tumour in your stomach will be gone. What a great thing for them to be able to hear that."

Despite the heavy toll the DTIC treatment took on his body, Crossland says he wouldn't be around if it wasn't for the work done by cancer researchers,

"Thank you for instilling hope into people's lives all around the world, because without you, there is no hope for a cure."

Experimental treatment saved Steve Liebmann

Get checked: Steve Liebmann. Photo: James Brickwood

An experimental treatment saved Steve Liebmann from prostate cancer.

"I was lucky that it was local, it was early, the treatment was available," he said. "I got to see [Dr Phillip Stricker] and he said, 'I'll look after you'. So all the cards fell my way."

Diagnosed with prostate cancer two years ago, the respected radio and TV journalist was referred to Dr Stricker, a prostate cancer specialist. Liebmann, 70,  says he was worried during the clouded period when blood tests and scans were happening, but Dr Stricker's confidence was comforting.

"That's the worst. I'm sure it is for anyone who has been diagnosed with any form of cancer. It's the waiting and the not knowing.

"Stricker is the sort of specialist that engenders confidence. He's supremely confident himself in his ability, and you walk out and think I don't need a second opinion, this guy is good enough for me. So, I mean, that's comforting.

Liebmann underwent a high-intensity focused ultrasound treatment (HIFU) that locally heats and destroys diseased or damaged tissue. HIFU, at the time, was experimental. Now it's widely used to treat a variety of other cancers, including kidney and pancreatic cancer.

"It's a very quick treatment. It's a day treatment. My wife took me in I think at about lunchtime to St Vincent's, late morning. And I left at about five o'clock that afternoon. No sort of hospitalisation, no overnighting."

The call from Dr Stricker after the procedure was one of relief.

"[Stricker rang and said] 'The good news is I've got it. Everything I wanted to get rid of, I got.' I said to him, 'You mean, it's gone forever?' and he said, 'I can't give you that guarantee.' [He said] at one stage that if it came back, 'you'll die with it, not from it'.

His wife of 46 years, his two sons and grandchildren were all supportive.

"I think there was concern, but there was a quiet hope that everything would be alright, and fortunately it was ... because it was prostate cancer, which is one of the most treatable cancers, especially if you get it early."

Today, according to the Australian Cancer Research Foundation, prostate cancer has a 92 per cent five-year survival rate. According to the Cancer Council, prostate cancer accounted for 13 per cent of all cancer deaths in men in 2011.

Liebmann encourages people to be aware of the cancer and consult doctors if symptoms manifest.

"Anybody, especially if you've got a family history … but once you hit 40 ... I think, men in particular, should have the check regularly."

Researcher who lost her own brother to the disease

Cancer researcher Maria Kavallaris. Photo: Janie Barrett

Maria Kavallaris had finally rid herself  body of the cancer that insinuated itself into her body at the age of 21 when she received more bad news.

Her 30-year-old brother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He was dead within months.

"It was dreadful," she says. "We had no history of cancer in the family."

Cancer surrounded Kavallaris. She was working for the Cancer Council to support her undergraduate studies when she was diagnosed with a rare form of ovarian cancer in 1983.

Then she was plunged into chemotherapy, taking five drugs at a time and becoming very unwell.

"When this all happened I made a commitment to myself that I was going to go on and have a research career," Professor Kavallaris says.

"As soon as I finished my undergraduate degree the first thing I did was go and enrol in a PhD, and then not even half way through my PhD, unfortunately, my brother contracted cancer.

"It sort of cemented this was what I should be doing."

Only 10 per cent of people who are diagnosed with pancreatic cancer survive another five years, and his case was so advanced that it was untreatable.

"I think the thing that struck me was I had gone through chemotherapy but my brother's cancer was so advanced they didn't even do that.

"I thought to myself there's got to be better options than to tell someone who's relatively young, 'There's nothing we can do'.

"I said to myself, we're going to start working on more effective therapies."

Now working at the Children's Cancer Institute, Kavallaris is researching what makes cancer cells sensitive to chemotherapy and she is trying to produce less toxic therapies, particularly using nanotechnology.

"You can package drugs with the idea that you can deliver them direct to the tumour cells without hitting the other cells, reducing toxicity and also increasing the efficacy."

The work has given her a useful purpose following her brother's death, and her own experience with cancer has certainly helped her to order her priorities and enjoy life.

But the stress of nearly losing one child to cancer, only to then lose another, was devastating to her parents.

"I don't think they ever recovered."

For more information visit Australian Cancer Research Foundation or home.cancerresearch.