“It all started in 2019. With my family, we were visiting relatives in Bolivia and in September Andy, my youngest son at the time, he hit his leg while playing on the slide. He told me it didn’t hurt and that’s why I didn’t take him to the doctor, but when weeks later I realized the bruise wasn’t going away I decided to take him away. The doctor told me not to worry, the green color would fade over time, but that didn’t happen. In fact, he started losing weight, he stopped eating, and I saw him very depressed. I know each of my children and I was able to realize that something was happening to them.
The first complications arose because he was Chilean and they did not want to treat him there. I took him to a private doctor and they only prescribed paracetamol. But in November, the bruise was still there, so I did some tests. They all came out fine, however, at the site of the bruise an abscess developed and his leg hurt when he walked. So we went back and forth to the doctor and to different hospitals until they cut that part of his skin and removed the accumulated blood.
When he came out of surgery, his face was covered in bruises. The doctors insisted he went into the procedure just like that, but I know that was not the case. I actually had a picture I sent my husband just before he walked in and his little face was perfect. When I got home I saw she had one of those bruises all over her body and discovered two small lumps in the lower part of her armpit and neck.
On Monday I took him for treatment and told the doctor. They sent me for some tests and again they insisted that everything was fine. But my son had no enthusiasm, he was tired and his bruises were increasing on his body.
We were at the end of December, more than three months had passed since the first consultation and we had gone through many surgeries, hospitals and doctors without getting an answer. At that time, it was better to go back to Chile, but doing it by bus was too long a trip and no airline wanted to take responsibility if something happened to him during the flight. Andy was very delicate: he couldn’t walk, he couldn’t eat, his muscles and bones ached.
In addition, at that time, Bolivian hospitals were overwhelmed by an epidemic of Zica and dengue fever. I remember one time I was waiting for treatment with Andy and a TV channel interviewed me thinking my son had an illness associated with the outbreak. I told them no and told them everything that had happened to us over the past few months. I asked for help on television. She had waited months to be seen. Fifteen minutes later, someone from the hospital came to tell me that they would take care of me. And they hospitalized my child, on a stretcher in the yard that I had to cover with a mosquito net to take care of him.
The next day they took us to hematology and on February 12 the diagnosis came in: 75% advanced PT acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Andy had a 25% chance of survival. My world fell apart and along with that it was inevitable to think about what would have happened if the diagnosis had come sooner. Could we have stopped the advance?
My family organized raffles and meals to help us with our expenses, and a Spanish foundation donated our chemotherapy. We couldn’t afford them.
As the days passed, they began to heal him and I began to see him better. In March, when he had already improved a little thanks to the chemotherapy, we managed to bring him to Chile by plane thanks to the financial help of many people.
We arrived at the hospital in Antofagasta and Dr. Pamela Inostroza, to whom I will always be grateful for her professionalism and affection, told us that Andy had to be hospitalized between three and six months. I stayed with him all this time and little by little my child started to recover. He is a warrior, he is very strong.
When he got better, we went to Santiago to continue the treatment at Calvo Mackenna Hospital. I met many families there who were going through difficult times like ours. One day, a mother told me that she had to get pregnant in order to be able to donate umbilical cord cells to her sick son and thus help him in his recovery. Me, for obvious reasons, I didn’t have the head to think of another child, but it turns out that without knowing it and by some miracle, I was also pregnant.
I didn’t miss my period and I didn’t feel bad. I discovered it because my husband, who hates chocolate, craved it and ate it all day, just like in my three previous pregnancies. I did two tests which came back negative. Until the day my husband passed out and when he recovered he told me to get ready to go to the hospital. He wanted me checked out because his cravings, fainting spells, and daytime sleepiness made him suspicious. And yes, it turns out that I was 16 weeks pregnant.
When I told Andy’s doctor that I was pregnant, I told him that I wanted to save the umbilical cord to use the stem cells because I had heard that other mom’s story. They told me that having a child with cancer would leave me free and they contacted me from Vidacel, a family stem cell bank to tell me that they would sponsor Andy and accompany us in this process. I couldn’t believe so much generosity.
Before I found out I was pregnant, Andy always sat on my little comforter and told me he liked the noise, that it relaxed him. When we told him, he told me that he already knew, that God had told him in one of his dreams that a little angel was coming to help him live longer. And not only that, he always knew it was a girl, he told me before the ultrasound confirmed it.
Eimy was born on November 25, 2021 and Andy was released in January. But when we thought everything was fine, Andy had tests in March and they told us he had testicular relapse, the blasts had lurked in his right testicle and needed to be removed. Pavilion again, new hospitalization for three or four months. To start over. A nightmare.
During those months, I only separated from him to go to the foster home when I had to wash his clothes or iron his clothes. With the x-rays and the chemo, my son started to fade, he had no strength, he wasn’t eating and his skin was very delicate. Her hair started falling out again. After six sessions, on September 12, the stem cells for the transplant arrived, a very risky procedure, but if we didn’t do it, I would have a few days left to enjoy my son. It was the best option for him and I didn’t want to see him suffer anymore. We had no choice but to continue to cling to faith.
In early December he was released and Andy is now about 75% healthy. It is not known why he got this disease, no one in my family had something similar and I wondered a lot as a mother, if I had done something wrong with him. My world has crumbled because the guilt still haunts me, I wonder if I gave her something I shouldn’t have, if I didn’t give her something I should have had. I have a million questions that no one has been able to answer. And the truth is, even doctors don’t know that. Cancer doesn’t look for condition, color, size, race, religion or anything. He doesn’t choose an age either.
Today, 98% of Eimy’s cord stem cells are circulating in Andy’s blood. He is well thanks to Dr. Tamara Inostroza and her team at Antofagasta Hospital; also for the way they treated him at Calvo Mackenna Hospital and they hosted us at Hogar Casa Familia every time we go to Santiago. And to VidaCel, which stored the stem cells and was its sponsor so that the transplant could be done. And, although it must continue to be controlled, me, my children, my husband and my family are positive, telling us that Andy is cured and that he will remain so.
Edith is 36 years old and is the mother of 4 children: Ashley (12 years old), Andy (10 years old), Keyleb (6 years old) and Eimy (2 years old).
Source: Latercera
I am David Jack and I have been working in the news industry for over 10 years. As an experienced journalist, I specialize in covering sports news with a focus on golf. My articles have been published by some of the most respected publications in the world including The New York Times and Sports Illustrated.
