Hunter’s Story
On October 26th, 2003, my husband and I were blessed with our first son, Hunter Dean Scott. He was amazing, perfect. On April 18th, 2006, Hunter met his little brother Hayden Allen Scott. Our life was absolutely seamless and to be honest, I’m not sure in the moment if I realized exactly how blessed we were. They always say hindsight is 20/20, I’m here to attest, never take a blessing lightly, or for granted at any moment. I have never taken my children for granted, but a life experience such as this, certainly puts moments of your life into perspective. It’s those moments that I may not have given a second thought about as they were happening, but now it’s those little memories that I would give anything for, to go back and live in real life, even if just for a split second.
When Hunter was around 4 years old, he began to experience headaches. It started off as nothing to think twice about, but then the frequency increased and Hunter also began to experience vomiting along with his headaches and instances of drastic changes in his behavior. After countless appointments with pediatricians for headaches, vomiting and behavioral changes, the doctors attributed his symptoms to minor illnesses such as a virus, strep or sinus infection.
Our lives changed forever on June 15th, 2008.
In the early hours on Sunday, June 15th, Hunter once again woke up with an extreme headache. With the gut feeling of ‘enough is enough, someone had to figure this out!’ I packed Hunter up in his PJs and we headed to the Calvert Memorial Hospital emergency room. After long waits, lots of needle sticks to try and draw blood, and a CT scan; the doctor came in and asked me to sit down. The doctor then proceeded to tell me that Hunter had a large mass on the right side of his brain and a helicopter was already on its way to transport him to Children’s National Medical Center in Washington, DC. As I sat there trying to absorb what the doctor had just told me and what it all meant, I looked up at that big white hospital bed and looked into my baby’s eyes. From here, unbeknownst to us at the very moment, our journey in the battle against cancer commenced.
After arriving at Children’s Hospital, things were moving very fast, words that we would never imagine we’re being spoke of over and over. Needless to say, they became a normal part of our daily vocabulary for years to come. Our son had a brain tumor and needed a MRI and surgery as soon as possible. That night, I laid in bed with Hunter in the ICU and watched his vital signs drop dangerously low over and over again. Not knowing what was to come or how things would turn out, I knew we had to make it through that night and stay strong for Hunter. The next morning, the pressure in Hunter’s brain had become so seriously high, he was medically placed in a comatose state. An emergency drain was placed into his brain to relieve some of the pressure as he waited to go into surgery.
After an 8-hour surgery, we were relieved to hear Hunter’s surgeon tell us that they were able to remove 90% of his tumor and he was doing well. Hunter stayed in the hospital and recovered from his surgery with the aid of some physical and occupational therapy. On the day we were being discharged, the biopsy results were in and we were to be told before leaving that day. As we packed our suitcases, so eager to get home to return to normal life, the doctors came in to give us the news that turned our world upside down. They said the word that should never have to be in the same sentence as a child’s name. Hunter has cancer. As my husband and I drove our two-hour journey home, with Hunter in the backseat and the word cancer haunting our minds, I could only think ‘why my son’?
From that day on I prayed for strength for Hunter to fight this awful cancer. I prayed for strength for my husband and me to see him through this and be by his side every step of the way.
Hunter went on to receive 6-months of inpatient intense chemotherapy that made him so ill at times that he could not eat for days. It made his hair fall out, sores in his mouth and GI track, and at times, his immune system would be so low he was to avoid contact with all others. It made my beautiful 4 year old little boy look like a cancer patient, and that was harsh reality that we had to live with every single day. Although as hard as that was to accept, Hunter kept a smile on his face each and every day that gave us the strength to go on. Hunter was amazingly strong and never complained or asked once ‘why do I have cancer?’ He was determined to be a little boy and fight with all he had.
In between chemotherapy cycles, Hunter underwent his second brain surgery to remove the remaining tumor that the chemotherapy did not kill. He then went on to receive 30 sessions of full brain and spine radiation with extra boost radiation to his tumor site. From here, Hunter went into remission for 9 wonderful months. We had frequent doctor appointments and follow up MRIs every 3 months to monitor him closely.
After a follow up MRI in November 2009, the results revealed that the tumor had returned. From that day on, Hunter went through countless outpatient experimental treatments as well as two more brain surgeries as the tumor kept reoccurring. The doctors reached out to every possible contact to try and find a plan that would rid Hunter of this tumor. As parents, we tried every treatment plan and clinical trial that was thrown our way in hopes that this next one would be the one that worked. With each MRI from then on out, the tumor continued to grow and did not respond to any treatment.
On February 2nd, 2011, after a full day at school, Hunter came to me and asked for help to peel his wrapper off of a cupcake. Hunter said he could not get it off because his left hand would not work. Hearing those words, I knew this was not good as my heart sank into my stomach and I looked down at Hunter. He looked back up at me and smiled, but only half of his smile was there. The left side of his face was unable to move. I immediately contacted his doctors at Children’s and was told to come up first thing in the morning for a MRI. When Hunter woke up the next morning his condition had worsened. He was is severe pain from a headache and vomiting. The MRI showed that Hunter’s tumor was growing very rapidly. The doctors sent us home with pain medicines and steroids so we could make him comfortable until they came up with the next plan. After arriving back home Hunter was unable to keep the steroids or pain medicines in his system. We headed back to Children’s that same evening for admission so Hunter could get relief by IV med administration.
The next day, all Hunter could do was sleep. His poor little body had had enough. It was then that the doctors told us there was absolutely nothing more they could do for our son. We should take him home with the help of hospice and enjoy the rest of our time together. The doctors didn’t expect him to have but a few more days, at most.
With pain in our hearts, we walked out of that hospital with Hunter in our arms to take him home.
God blessed us with 5 more months with Hunter. Some days were good, some were bad, but each one a gift. A gift of being able to touch our sweet son’s skin, to kiss his face, to tell him how special and loved he is and always will be. The gift of being able to, for a short time, hear him say “I Love You Too”.
On the morning of July 2nd, 2011, we watched Hunter take his last breath. Surrounded by those that love him dearly, that morning he earned his angel wings and a permanent place in the hearts of all those who followed him on his journey against cancer.
During these years, my husband and I watched our son endure things that an adult could not even fathom, let alone handle. Things that a child should NEVER have to face. Words that a child should NEVER have to learn and understand what they mean. We watched our son suffer during chemotherapy and radiation and even afterwards with long term side effects. We watched him feel uncomfortable because he was ‘different’ from other children. In his last months we watched him loose his ability to walk, use his hands and arms, talk and see. It is because of this that we want to make a difference in the lives of families facing these same circumstances. Hunter faced his battle head on with a smile on his face every single day – some days, I have no idea how he did it. I was constantly processing that my son had cancer and we were going to lose him. He was the one enduring the cancer and treatments, yet he kept on going, when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball to cry or scream and curse until I felt I got some of the anger and sadness out of my system. His smile is one that will be forever embedded in my mind and heart. Because of his smile, I know we can help put smiles on the faces of other children fighting cancer. Hunter is and always will be our Hero, and now we move forward to recognize other children braving cancer, each one a hero, one of Hunter’s Heroes.
Always and Forever Hunter’s Mom,
Sandy
One of the most amazing memories of Hunter is his smile, through everything. This presentation was made in September 2010. It consists of pictures taken of Hunter during his journey against cancer…Each day is a blessing, but even more so to those children fighting cancer and their families. We love and miss you so much Hunter!
Hunter Dean Scott
26 October 2003 – 2 July 2011