April brought warm, spring days; family birthdays, including Mateo’s; and spring break. Mateo’s cell phone had been ringing less and less. His friends were no longer calling him to go out. An occasional call to the house to see how he was became more the norm now. At one point, Mateo handed me his phone saying, “Here, Mom, you need this more than I do now.”
Even as a little boy, Mateo had not been the kind to sit and watch television quietly without something in his hands. Even though his brother and he would play video games together, he didn’t consider himself a “gamer.” His passion was being outside in the sun. He had a never-sleeping curiosity about how things worked and longed for answers to “why.” He was one of those children who took things apart only to put them back together in order to understand how they worked. It was that curiosity that made his love for the computer a match made in heaven. Not used to being at home during the day, Mateo began to busy himself with research on his own medical diagnosis and it’s prognosis as well.
Armed with factual information now, it was not long before Mateo and I were secretly and independently of each other researching the internet daily for information on Mateo’s tumor, medications, and latest treatments, following up on any and all leads that would give us all some kind of direction.
It was during one of my researching sprees that I finally looked up a lead I had received from a school counselor friend of mine whose brother was a doctor. I remembered him telling me there was a brain surgeon in Southern California who was well known for his success with new methods of brain tumor surgery and treatments. I read all I could read about this doctor and his team. On the site, I found a link inviting patients and/or their caregivers to submit patient cases to this medical team for evaluation. I immediately became excited, wondering, Can they help Mateo? I would have to gather the needed information, write a letter, and obtain a current MRI for their review. I knew we could get a copy of his next MRI and I would send it all in on my own. I didn’t want to give him any false hope, but for me, it was a “possibility.”
I could see Mateo was getting restless staying home all the time. He was one of those kids who liked to go on trips, so, after consulting Todd and Chris, I decided to ask him what he thought about going up the coast for a night’s stay. His eyes lit up, and he seemed to be very happy about the idea of getting away.
“It’s just for the night,” I explained to him. “But it’s something we haven’t done that isn’t too far from home, and it’s a road trip.”
“Yeah, that sounds good, Stinks,” he said, smiling.
I had already discussed the trip with Todd and had mentioned that I was a bit concerned about Mateo’s energy level. The numbness in his right side was now beginning to cause him to become slightly unbalanced, and he tired easily. I had noticed his gait had also become shorter as his steps had become more carefully calculated, like a person who couldn’t feel the ground under his foot . . . unsure.
The next day, I called for room availability at a motel relatively close to the aquarium and made arrangements, securing a room in Monterey for a night. I hadn’t been there in years, and I knew the boys had never been there before. I also thought a visit to the Aquarium would make it a perfect getaway for us. At the time, I hadn’t realized it was also the first day of Mateo’s oral chemotherapy.
We left on a Tuesday morning after a quick packing of our bags, and Mateo brought his first round of pills along. As usual, the coast was foggy, but the drive was worth it. We took our time, stopped for breakfast, checked in to our room, and decided we would head out to the Aquarium. Parking was not close, and I had brought a borrowed wheelchair with us on the trip. I could see that the walk to the entrance was quite a distance and might wear on Mateo’s energy, so I insisted he be taken by wheelchair. There was at least a ten-minute back and forth debate with Mateo as to why he needed to use the wheelchair, with him insisting he could walk the distance. Finally, we were able to convince him of the “possible” need, and he climbed in.
Without hesitation on my part, I grabbed the back of the wheelchair and began to push Mateo down the street, toward the Aquarium entrance. The walk was mostly downhill, so it wasn’t until the sidewalk began to flatten out that I realized how much bigger my son had gotten. He had been complaining about gaining weight with the steroids he had to take, but I hadn’t realized just how much gain he’d experienced. He had gone from a stealth 160 pounds to a much-larger 200 pounds. Todd noticed I was now struggling more and took over pushing the wheelchair, with Mateo sitting, grudgingly. I walked alongside on the left and Chris on the right, I noticed Mateo’s face had even become moon shaped. Funny, I hadn’t even noticed that before, I thought to myself.
The entrance to the Aquarium wasn’t crowded yet, so we entered without a hitch. Most of the time, Mateo would get frustrated and stand up to see the exhibits rather than sit in the chair, which resulted in us shoving an empty wheelchair around. We got some funny looks, but it really didn’t matter at that point since we knew why. We took our time looking at the exhibits and participated in the hands-on ones, which ended up being our group’s favorites.
By the time we had completed the tour of the aquarium, it was time for lunch. The dining area was extended from the outside of the building to a patio area on the outside by the water. With the weather so nice, we chose a table outside to enjoy our meal. As we relaxed by the water, I noticed Mateo was becoming admittedly tired. I reminded him it was time for his medication. He no longer complained about sitting in the wheelchair. While we strolled back to the car, we took the opportunity to stop and look in a couple of the shops. Even though Mateo loved to shop, he said he was beginning to feel “whoozie,” so we cut it short and quickly returned to the room.
We hadn’t been in the room more than thirty minutes when Mateo began to get nauseated. I immediately pulled out the purple folder provided to us by Dr. Khan’s secretary, containing the phone number to the doctor, and also looked up the nearest pharmacy. After a quick call to the doctor, supplying her with the information she needed, she prescribed medication to stop the nausea.
Next was finding the pharmacy. We were not familiar with the area, so we armed ourselves with the address and headed down to the hotel reception desk to ask for directions. I took my usual seat in the driver’s position, Todd jumped into the seat next to me, and we headed out. After driving around for roughly twenty minutes, it was apparent we were lost. Making a spontaneous decision, I maneuvered the car into a gas station to ask the attendant. His directions sent us in the opposite direction. Another fifteen minutes passed . . . lost again. Irritation from the passenger seat was obvious and growing, and anxiety from knowing that Mateo’s condition would only worsen was beginning to rise in me. Finally, I decided to retrace our steps, whereupon we accidently found the pharmacy—a block from where we were staying. A trip that should have taken a few minutes ended up taking almost an hour.
By the time we reached Mateo with the medication, he had been violently vomiting, his brother by his side. I swiftly gave Mateo the medication that the doctor had prescribed, then snuggled next to him on the opposite side of the bed. With his head craddled in my arms, the television playing low in the background, the room went silent while we waited for the medication to take effect. Nausea soon gave way to exhaustion. Not only had it been a long day for Mateo, but the fatigue from vomiting had begun to take its toll. At last, the medication was beginning to take over. His big brown eyes were beginning to shrink, becoming heavy, and before long he was asleep in my arms.
The next morning, Mateo woke in a comfortable and happy mood once again. After eating breakfast in the local restaurant, he took his second day of pills, including the one for nausea, and was ready to leave for home. Being a bit leery of vomiting again, he wanted to be home “just in case,” as he put it. By this time, whatever made him comfortable was all that was important to us, and even though our get-away had been for just a night, it seemed to be what we needed.
The drive back up the coast was more scenic than the way down had been, as the sun was out in full force, shining its golden rays across the ocean. The beautiful white-capped waves crashing into the rocks were breathtaking. The Creator surely touched the shoreline with beauty, I thought as I smoothly maneuvered the car through the morning traffic.
We arrived home in a reasonable amount of time. Just as Todd placed his key in the front door, the phone rang inside. Turning the key, Todd threw the door wide open, allowing the family to follow him. I rushed through and reached for the phone.
“Hello?” I said, trying to recover my breath.
“Hi,” said a familiar female voice on the other end.
“Oh. Hi there, what’s up?” I recognized the voice as belonging to my sister, Katherine.
“How’s Mateo?” she asked.
“He’s good. We are just getting back from Monterey.”
“Did you guys have a good time?”
“Yes, we did. Except for Mateo getting sick on his first round of medication, we had a nice time. But even with that, it was still good to get away for a night,” I said.
“I’m calling to ask what time Mateo’s birthday party is next week,” she said.
“Well, it’s in the middle of the week, so I figured around 5:00 p.m.,” I answered, thinking out loud. “That would give people time to get here, and we can have dinner around 6:00 p.m. His friends have planned a surprise party for him too on Saturday around 1:00 p.m.” My voice dropped to a whisper and I strolled out to the back yard to avoid being overheard.
“Oh, that’s going to be nice for him,” Katherine enthused. “Well, okay then. I’ll let the rest of the family know.”
With that, we said our good-byes and hung up.
Mateo’s twenty-fourth birthday celebrations came up quick and lasted a week. He enjoyed a family party, which included a few friends but mostly aunts, uncles, and cousins. Later, during the weekend, he was surprised with another party, consisting of Mateo’s many high school friends and families he had continued to keep in touch with after he graduated.