Kapow! Batman saved my boy
At just three, Kathy’s son faced a big battle Kathy Obst, 40, Old Reynella, SA
Opening the door to the bathroom, I ushered my sweet boy
Eamon, three, inside.
Having learnt to go to the toilet by himself, he was looking very proud.
‘Good job!’ I said.
But as he ran off to wash his hands, I noticed his urine was slightly discoloured.
‘I think Eamon is a little dehydrated,’ I said to my hubby Justin.
So, over the weekend we made sure he drank loads of water and kept a close eye on him.
He seemed to be fine – pulling on his favourite Batman T-shirt he flew around the backyard as I nursed his 10-week-old sister Isla.
‘Eamon to the rescue!’ he roared.
But on the Tuesday, his urine still wasn’t right, so I took him to the GP who in turn referred him for an ultrasound.
‘We’ve found a growth on Eamon’s kidney,’ the specialist told us afterwards.
I froze in fear, not knowing what might be in store for my little man.
Back at the hospital the next day, Justin, Eamon and I sat down.
‘He has Wilms’ tumour,’ the doctor told us, explaining it’s a rare kidney cancer that primarily affects children.
Three quarters of his right kidney was covered and they’d also discovered spots on his lungs.
In shock, I gripped Justin with one hand and hugged Eamon with the other.
Thankfully, the specialist was confident they could remove all the tumour.
Three days later, Eamon was taken to theatre for the surgery.
‘He’s a brave boy,’ Justin whispered, as I wiped away tears.
But not long after, we were surprised when he was wheeled back out.
‘We were unable to operate,’ the surgeon said.
After opening him up, they’d realised that as well as dozens of tiny tumours taking over his kidney, they were on his liver too.
Have we lost the race already? I thought, buckling into Justin’s arms.
‘He can’t die,’ I cried. ‘I can’t live without my little boy.’
Soon after he’d come around, a man dressed in a Batman costume walked in.
Jumping up in bed, Eamon put on his own hero mask and a cheeky grin stretched across his face.
We haven’t lost yet, I thought.
Discussing our options, we were that told chemo would be the best option to shrink the tumours so they could operate.
Eamon would need it once a week for nine months, followed by eight rounds of radiotherapy.
At home it was hard to believe anything was wrong as he bounced around like a normal toddler.
Donning his Batman slippers and matching pyjamas, he spread his arms out like a bird and tore around the house.
‘Mummy, I need to go to the toilet,’ my good boy said.
Waiting by the door, a stream of red caught my eye.
Glancing down, we both saw the toilet bowl was full of blood and Eamon burst into tears of shock.
‘Justin!’ I screamed.
Racing to the hospital, we discovered the tumours had pierced Eamon’s bladder causing it to fill with blood.
‘You are so brave Batman,’ the nurse said, as she administered him with pain medication.
At the mention of his hero, his cheeky grin spread from ear to ear.
Amazingly, seven days later, we were discharged.
A few days after that, Eamon placed on his
Batman slippers and walked into his first round of chemo.
And for every treatment from then on, he sported a different item of Batman paraphernalia.
‘Hi guys,’ he waved to the nurses.
‘How’s Batman feeling today?’ they would ask. ‘Super!’ he smiled. That was our boy – a brave little hero with an immense power to fight.
As his hair slowly began to fall out, I hung on to the hope that the treatment was working.
Slipping into his infamous black and yellow superhero beanie he clung to his matching teddy.
He is so brave, I thought.
And after six weeks of chemo, we were finally told some good news.
‘The tumours have shrunk,’ the specialist said. ‘We can go back in and remove them.’
A huge wave of happiness hit me as I watched Eamon dance around the ward in his Batman hoodie chatting with all the nurses.
During surgery, they were able to save his liver and successfully remove his kidney.
And seeing my little superhero wiggle his toes when he woke up made me so happy.
‘I’m so glad to get that evil thing out of his body,’ I said.
As he finished chemo and started on radiation, I couldn’t believe the strength my little man had.
Zipping up his Batman jacket, he spoke in a really low voice just like his favourite hero.
‘Batman’s back,’ he said, walking into treatment.
And in December 2017, we were told he was in remission.
Embracing my Batman, I couldn’t believe everything he had conquered.
Eamon, now five, still has check-ups every three months.
There were so many charities that helped us through our rough time and we cannot thank them all enough.
They are doing such incredible things, fighting to make sure we don’t lose any more of our kids to childhood cancer.
As for us, we are so grateful for every breath our Batman takes.
Our superhero definitely kicked cancer’s butt!
Our brave little hero had the power to fight