When the hatched closed the engines fired. The small Lear jet was packed. Two pilots, a doctor, nurse, but the respiratory therapist was the most nervous. I sat in a small chair next to my son lying on a stretcher.

It had been almost a month since the incidence. Paul had helped me through the reality of what had happened. We first knew him as Doctor, but as the years went on, we came to call him Paul. From the beginning he was very clear and recommended giving Matt back. He told us we had no idea what was to come and looking back he was right, for if we did maybe we would have changed our minds. We did not like him then, but that was to change and fade away, for without Paul we would not have been able to give our son the life he had. That first visit at UCSF Paul shocked us and made us cry, he held back nothing. It was only when I asked him what were the chances Matt would live to be 20? When he said 50/50, I found the baseline I could live with.

Maybe I was blind, maybe I was only looking for some sort of an answer I could live with, because I knew deep inside of me, I could never give back my son. There was nothing that could or would stand in my way, there was no comprise in this.


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The movement of the bike was calming. It kept me sane.

There was a place when the road was threatening rain, the bike stopped.

Inside was a mom and pop gas station/restaurant, but this time it was a young couple. He worked in the back on car repairs and other things of men. She took the orders, cooked and served the food. He had grease and oil on his hands and arms. She talked to the people coming in and going out, he talked to ones in the back room. She ran the register and collected the money. He would look on her from time to time thinking she did not see him. It was as I was leaving, we talked about the weather, it was then she paused and looked out across the counter through the large plate glass window into the storm that may come, and I can still see her eyes when she said, “but aren’t the clouds beautiful”.
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The small door to the cockpit was open as we flew westward. You could see out the front windows into the clouds and sky. My left hand rested on Matt and he was calm. There was something soothing with the vibrations of the engines. The space inside was full, no room for anything else. The thoughts inside my mind were going over what was to come and things that I would do.

We landed at SFO and taxied to a remote place were an ambulance waited. The respiratory therapist hurried the transfer. I asked the doctor to come. Somewhere along the way the RT asked the driver to hit the lights. The elevator took us to the floor and the room in the ICU was waiting.

I stood there watching as they took Matt in, it was then a young doctor came to me and asked something, the words I didn’t hear as tears filled my eyes, there were no words I could have said, for there was nothing left to do, for now.