Tate Hayes - The 20-month legend: my baby boys fight with cancer

A SAVIO REPUBLIC BOOK

An Imprint of Post Hill Press

ISBN: 978-1-68261-512-6

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-68261-513-3

The 20-Month Legend

My Baby Boys Fight with Cancer

2018 by Steve Tate

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Tricia Principe, principedesign.com

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

posthillpress.com

New York Nashville

Published in the United States of America

TRUSTING OUR INSTINCTS

I f there is anything I have learned throughout this entire journey, its that parents know what is going on with their children better than any expert. We know our childrens habits, we know their personalities, and we know when things dont seem right. Every parent I have ever met shares this same quality. Its one of the things we are blessed with, and entitled to, as caregivers. Savanna and I have been blessed when it comes to good instincts, and we let them guide us, whether they come naturally or from God. And our instincts were kicking in. Hayes was sick.

That New Years Eve, Savanna arrived home and we loaded Hayes in the back of the Suburban for the short drive to the hospital. My initial thought was to take him to a top childrens hospital, but our insurance didnt cover it. We walked into the waiting room with Hayes. It was crowded and relatively noisy. After twenty minutes or so, a nurse came and escorted us to the next available room. Visiting the Doctor was never an enjoyable experience, but I felt like we were going to finally be guided about what to do so Hayes could get better. Earlier that day, I had done some Internet research on his symptoms. I searched for anything I could find about lack of energy. But Hayes didnt have a fever, and every article that I read included some sort of fever as one of the primary symptoms. This made things extremely difficult to diagnose.

A doctor came in, asked the basic questions, and examined our little nine-month-old boy. They took a blood sample, and one of the specialists recognized us. You are the Tate triplets! she said in amazement, I follow your family on Instagram. We felt flattered, but now wasnt the time for small talk. We waited anxiously in that ER room for the blood tests to come back. Hayes was comfortable in Savannas arms as he started nodding off. The doctor came back and began getting additional information on Hayes and his condition.

Hes been extremely lethargic, we said as Hayes lounged in Savannas arm. He is a triplet so we have noticed his lack of energy compared to his brother and sister. Weve also noticed that he doesnt have much of an appetite.

Has he had any fevers? the doctor asked.

No, I replied. He hasnt had any fevers, but he has an ear infection. His triplet brother and sister had the same ear infections a few weeks ago, but they are doing fine now. Hayes hasnt seemed to recover.

Has he been throwing up?

No, he hasnt thrown up, Savanna responded. At this point, the doubts began. Are we those crazy parents? I thought to myself. We all know those parents who are overly protective, obsessive, and concerned, who freak out if their kid falls down and gets a scrape. We have never been those parents. If anything, we are the opposite, telling the kids to toughen up when they fall down. I felt a little odd as the doctor continued to ask questions. I even began doubting myself during the entire examination: Hes not throwing up. He doesnt have a fever. Why am I here? Im sure we may have even sounded a little crazy to the Doctor when the only symptom we could muster was his lethargy.

As those thoughts were running back and forth through my head, Hayes threw upfor the first time since symptoms began a couple weeks before. We had just given him a bottle to help relax him in the hospital room and out it came, all over Savannas lap. In some really odd way, it was actually a relief to us. Im pretty sure it was a relief to Hayes, judging by the amount of vomit that came out his mouth. It basically told the doctor that Hayes wasnt feeling well, and that there was more to his sickness than just lack of energy.

As we were cleaning up, the bloodwork came back abnormal. The doctor proceeded to tell me some medical terminology for virus, as it appeared that Hayes had one. We left the hospital a bit more relieved than we had arrived because the vomiting seemed to confirm the diagnosis. Our minds were eased for a few hours, which felt wonderful considering we had been worrying day and night more than two weeks.

We monitored him closely that night and into the next day. He threw up the following morning and again that afternoon. Whatever relief we felt the night before disappeared. The worries settled in again. Our instincts kept pushing us for further tests or opinions. I searched day and night on Google and WebMD. Something was telling me and Savanna that this wasnt the virus that the doctor had described to us. I felt prompted to search for the signs of meningitis. I knew that throwing up and lack of energy were two primary symptoms of meningitis, so I put those symptoms into the search engine. The list of symptoms read: throwing up, lethargic, fever, rash, and swollen fontanel. I showed Savanna the screen and we googled the definition of fontanel , which is also known as a babys soft spot.

Hayes was asleep along with the other babies, but I wasted no time as I ran to his room. Savanna continued reading the symptoms. I pushed open the door and rushed to Hayess crib. I grabbed his tiny head and felt his soft spot. It was a little raised, but it wasnt as if I had a lot of experience in this arena. Fortunately for us, we had two other babies to use as comparison. I turned to my left and grabbed Heaths head. I felt around with my fingers and closely examined with my eyes. It felt a little different to me, but I needed further proof. I hurried across the hall to Reeses room, who woke with the sound of the door. I kissed her on the cheek to calm her down and grabbed her little head and examined it closely. I moved her dark brown hair side to side to get a better look.

My heart skipped a beat and the blood rushed from my face. I closed her door behind me and crossed the hall again to the boys room. I cupped Hayess head again and immediately knew. His fontanel was raised.

I turned off the light and went to the top of the stairs. Savanna, I yelled down, in a panicked manner, his soft spot is raised. She hurried up and examined for herself. She felt it too.

What do we do? we asked ourselves. It was if we were solving some sort of crime-scene investigation. In some way, we were. Our instincts were pushing us closer to an explanation. We simply didnt believe that he had a virus.

The following morning, we scheduled an appointment to see the pediatrician. The doctor came in, did an examination of Hayes, and asked the basic questions. Savanna was armed for this appointment. She had taken a video of Hayes in his exercise saucer compared to his brother and sister, a video that demonstrated his lethargy. He was motionless, hardly able to lift his little head. Savanna also played a video of Hayes from the month prior, for comparison. The doctor blew it off.

This means nothing to me, she said encouraging Savanna to put her phone away. It was as if she was put off by the whole visit. That video tells me nothing.

We felt like crazy, paranoid parents all over again. There was no sense of urgency on the doctors partwe were obviously just the next appointment scheduled on her calendar. She was ready to bill our insurance and move on to the next patient. She ordered some lab tests and sent us on our way.