Help Us Give Salvatore the Life He Deserves
A child born fighting deserves a life worth fighting for.
August 28th, 2018—the day our son Salvatore James came into the world. It was a healthy pregnancy, until the very end. A week before my due date, and then again just days before, we noticed his heart rate wasn’t elevating like it should. I was induced, unaware of what was to come.
At 3:39 PM, our beautiful boy was born—6 lbs 7 oz, 18.5 inches long—and placed on my chest lifeless. Skin to skin turned to sheer panic. I remember staring up at the white ceiling, waiting to hear a cry that never came.
At first, they said it was low blood sugar and rushed him to the NICU. But that night, while I held him, Sal stopped breathing in my arms. My mother-in-law sat him up, trying to get a response. Hours later, doctors were rushing to intubate him and told us he was having seizures. He needed to be transferred—we chose CHOP (Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia).
The MRI revealed our nightmare: global brain damage caused by oxygen loss before birth. The cord had likely wrapped around his neck, cut off oxygen, then unwrapped—he began breathing again, but the damage had already been done. The doctors told us our son may never breathe on his own—and asked us to consider his “quality of life.”
We hit the floor in pain.
But Sal… he didn’t give up.
He never has.
Today, Salvatore is 6 years old.
He’s living with cerebral palsy, cortical visual impairment, epilepsy, dystonia, global developmental delays, and is nonverbal. He’s G-tube fed, uses an eye gaze device to communicate, walks with a gait trainer, sits up with support, and steals hearts with his love and strength.
He’s had 10+ surgeries, and about 30+ hospital admissions. He works harder than most adults just to do things many take for granted.
We’ve done everything we can to give him the best—but now we’re asking for help.
Our Goal
A One-Floor, Fully Handicap-Accessible Home
Our current home isn’t safe. Sal is getting heavier and taller. We lift him for every transfer—into the bed, the bath, the car. His equipment doesn’t fit through doorways. Stairs are dangerous. We desperately need a single-floor home designed for accessibility, so Sal can live with safety, and more independence.
Intensive Therapy in Canada
There is a specialized therapy center in Canada that offers world-renowned, aggressive therapies designed to improve movement, strength, and function. This could be a turning point in Sal’s development—but it comes at a high cost. The therapy, the travel, the lodging—none of it is covered by insurance. And time is not on our side. These early years are crucial, and we’re running out of them.
I even wrote a children’s book—Salvatore’s Limitless Vision (https://salabilitys.com/products/salvatores-limitless-vision-paper-back) hoping to raise funds through storytelling. I wanted to share Sal’s magic and teach kids about inclusion. I hoped it would be enough to support what he needs.
But the reality is—we can’t wait anymore.
We need help. And we need it now.
If you can donate, share our story, or support us by purchasing the book—it means more than words can say.
Support through our book: [https://salabilitys.com/products/salvatores-limitless-vision-paper-back]
Donate or share to help us give Sal the future he’s fighting so hard for.
Thank you for loving our boy.
Thank you for believing in him.
Thank you for standing with us.
—Galati-White Family
