Embarking on a Battle Against Yolk Sac Tumor Since 2024
I want to share how we found Tubao’s yolk sac tumor. On April 19th, 2024, Papa Tu and I bathed him as usual, thinking it would be another ordinary night. Unexpectedly, Papa Tu accidentally noticed his testicles were noticeably different in size.
In an instant, my heart tightened, and the relaxed joy just now vanished without a trace. Papa Tu also frowned, his voice trembling with imperceptible panic: “Something’s wrong. We have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning.” I nodded, holding the freshly bathed Tubao in my arms. Feeling his warm little body, my hands couldn’t help shaking slightly. At fourteen and a half months old, he knew nothing, only rubbing his little head against my neck and cooing to act like a spoiled child. But I felt an inexplicable sense of panic, hoping that we were making a mountain out of a molehill.
Rushing and Torment: Diagnosis of Yolk Sac Tumor
April 20th – April 22nd, 2024, Days of Non-Stop Running, Rainy
These three days have become an unforgettable period of rushing around in my life. We almost visited all the hospitals in Qingdao—Pediatrics, Urology, Oncology… Consulting doctors one by one, waiting again and again. Every time the doctor frowned and fell into deep thought, my heart jumped to my throat. Tubao seemed to feel the adults’ anxiety, too. He was no longer as lively as usual in the hospital; most of the time, he leaned quietly in Papa Tu’s or my arms, crying occasionally, which broke my heart.
The test results came out gradually. When the words “rare disease” and “malignant tumor testicular yolk sac tumor” came out of the doctor’s mouth, I felt as if the whole world had collapsed. The alpha-fetoprotein level of 487.3(tumor markers of yolk sac tumor) was like a cold knife, piercing all my luck. How could it be? My Tubao was still so young; how could he have had to endure such pain? Papa Tu and I stood in the hospital corridor, watching the people come and go, and couldn’t help but turn our eyes red. But we still held back our tears, afraid that Tubao in our arms would notice.
During these three days, we spun like tops, shuttling between different hospitals with various test reports and consulting different experts, all in an effort to find the best treatment plan. Every time we repeated describing the condition and every time we waited for the results, it was a torment. At night, when we got home and looked at Tubao’s sleeping little face, Papa Tu and I couldn’t sleep all night. We comforted each other, yet suppressed the despair in our hearts, only thinking that we must save our child.
A Difficult Choice: Confirming the Treatment Plan and Being Admitted to the Hospital
April 22nd, 2024, Afternoon, Cloudy
After three days of rushing around and repeated consideration, we finally decided on the treatment plan—taking Tubao to Qingdao University Hospital for treatment. The moment I completed the hospitalization procedures and held that admission form, my fingertips went cold. This thin piece of paper carried all our hopes, and it also meant that Tubao was about to endure hardships that he shouldn’t have to bear at his age.
The environment in the inpatient department was a bit unfamiliar. Tubao looked around curiously, clutching the corner of my clothes tightly with his little hand. I held him in my arms, kissing his forehead repeatedly, and silently whispered in my heart: Tubao, don’t be afraid. Mom and Dad will always be with you. The doctor came to explain the subsequent treatment arrangements, mentioning the surgery. I held back my tears and nodded, only hoping that the surgery would go smoothly and my baby would get better soon.
Surgery Day: Anxious Waiting and a Smooth Conclusion
April 25th, 2024, Morning, Sunny
Today is Tubao’s surgery day. I woke up before dawn, looking at Tubao sleeping soundly beside me, and couldn’t help but gently stroke his little face. The little guy seemed to know what he was going to go through. After waking up in the morning, he didn’t cry for milk as usual, but leaned quietly in my arms, looking at me with bright little eyes.
In the morning, the nurse came to take Tubao into the operating room. Papa Tu and I stood outside the operating room, our hearts empty. Every minute and every second felt extremely long. I kept pacing back and forth in the corridor, and Papa Tu held my hand tightly, his palm also full of sweat. We prayed repeatedly, praying for the smooth progress of the surgery and Tubao’s safety.
I don’t know how long we waited, but the light in the operating room finally went out. The doctor came out and told us that the surgery was very successful; they had performed a right orchiectomy and spermatic cord resection. The doctor also said that according to the pathology, the yolk sac tumor was only on the testicle and not on the spermatic cord. As a precaution, they decided to remove the spermatic cord. Hearing this, I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. This time, it was a sign of relief and gratitude.
Wishes and Perseverance: Standing with Tubao Through the Hardship
Little guy, you are really brave. Mom and Dad are so proud of you. I have already detailed the entire process of this yolk sac tumor resection in another article, so I won’t elaborate on it here. I just hope that from today on, all hardships will stay away from my Tubao. May he recover soon and become the lively, smiling baby he used to be.
The road ahead is still long, and the treatment will continue. But Papa Tu and I will always be with Tubao. The three of us will fight side by side to defeat the illness. Tubao, Mom, and Dad love you, forever and always.
