He smiled at me immediately as I walked into his room that afternoon. I could sense the relief in his posture... see it in his eyes. I had a feeling he'd been waiting a while for this... planning it carefully and taking his time to get to the point when he felt like he could talk to me. I remembered the short conversation from the day before and couldn't help but smile as I held the camera up and zoomed in on his face.

"Hey Jess!" He'd greeted when I'd walked into his room. I'd smiled and nodded, setting about my work of checking his IV bags while he busily chatted me up. The time I'd spent in his room over those past two weeks had been spent much the same... me doing my work while he talked to me about his life and his dreams. It made me happy to know that he felt he could talk to me about those things and so I listened carefully, absorbing everything he said and tucking the special things deep within my heart.

"Can we do the movie tomorrow?" He'd asked as I fiddled with giving him an injection in his port. He didn't even wince anymore when I did it. You knew a patient had spent far too much of his life being stuck with needles when it no longer phased him at all.

I looked down at him as he looked up at me, our eyes met and I knew in that moment that he was serious... that he was ready. "Of coures," I'd answered as I pulled the needle out and wiped the area with a clean piece of guaze.

Hey waved towards the camera and sat up straighter in his bed. I flipped the record button off and moved the camera away from my face. "Where would you like to do this?" I asked thinking he may want to move out of his bed around the room somewhere.

"Here is fine," he answered gesturing for me to sit down in the chair beside his bed, "here's good... here's real."

I nodded in understanding and sat down beside him. To show Matthew on film anywhere but in his hospital bed would not be doing justice to the life he'd lived for the past four and a half years. In those years Matthew had spent more time in that hospital bed, confined to the four walls of that "Star Wars" themed hospital room than he'd spent outside of the hospital, just being a kid.

I explained to Matthew that I was going to record him... that he could talk about whatever he wanted, anything he wanted and that we would stop whenever he was ready, be that two minutes after I started recording or two hours... I knew this was important to Matthew and I'd set aside the entire afternoon just for him. He nodded silently and bit his lip in contemplation. I held the camera up again and pushed record, not knowing what was coming and hoping I could stay strong for Matthew.

"My name is Matthew Meegan," He began as he leaned back in the bed and stared up at the ceiling, "I'm 14 years old... almost fifteen... and I've spent nearly 4 years of my life in this hospital room." He gestured slowly around the room and I followed his movement with my camera, focusing on the IV pole and the uneaten dinner tray, the couch where his mother had spent countless nights and the Stars mural on the wall that was meant to make the patient feel welcome. I focused on Matthew again and listened as he continued...

"I have cancer. Neuroblastoma. And I am going to die."

I held my breath as he said the words. I knew he wasn't going to make it, his family knew he wasn't going to make it, but to hear your 14 year old patient acknowledge the fact that he is going to die... it wasn't easy. I watched as he sat in silence for a moment, biting his lip again, trying to decide what to say next. Or maybe trying not to show his emotions.

He sighed deeply before he continued moments later. "I want everyone to know that I am not dying," Matthew said as he shifted uneasily in his bed before rubbing his hands quickly over his bald head. I had no idea what he meant... I wanted to ask him but I didn't get the chance before he continued, "I want everyone to know that up until the moment that I die, I am living." I sighed in realization of what Matthew was saying.

"I don't want to be treated like a dying person. I know in my heart and in my mind that every breath I take is one closer to the moment I never breathe again... but I also know that if everyone thought that way all the time then we'd all be dying the moment we're born, and I just don't want to think of it that way. So I'm living. And as far as any one of you should be concerned... I'll be living until the very moment I take my final breath of air."

I could do nothing but watch on in amazement as Matthew spoke the words. They were words I'd heard before... perhaps not in the same exact way, but similar, only from individuals much older than a 14 year old boy who should have a lifetime of breaths left ahead of him. It became clearer with each passing day that Matthew was wise beyond his years. That Matthew knew more in his young age than most of us could even begin to try to learn in a lifetime.

"I don't want to be treated like a dying person," Matthew continued as a sly smile crossed his face, "I want for you all to continue to joke with me and play games with me... to laugh with me and to make fun memories with me. I don't want to be remembered as the Matthew who could't do anything for himself or the Matthew that needed morphine just to get through the day. I want to be remembered as the fun kid that used to run through the hallways spreading cheer."

I smiled at the memories of Matthew dashing down the hospital hallways. He had a special way of brightening a person's day with his attitude towards life and his unwavering faith.

I sat in that hospital room that afternoon for nearly an hour and a half listening to the things that Matthew had to say. He wanted people to treat him the same, he wanted people to remember him for the great kid that he was but he also wanted for his family to know he loved them and he wanted for us all to know that he planned to die in his own way in his own time, not in a hospital bed surrounded by crying family and friends.

I shifted in my chair an hour into our talk, my pregnant stomach grumbling for food and my feet swelling up like balloons. I reminded myself quickly that the uncomfortableness I was experiencing through such a time of joy in my life was nothing compared to what Matthew and his family were going through. Matthew had just finished telling me that he was looking forward to seeing his father again in Heaven. He'd missed his dad so much and wished many days that he had been there to help him through his own struggles with cancer. He'd remembered his father during his sickest days... he'd rememered his father's death... but he also remembered all of the memories they'd made together before that time and he shared them with me that day. His first time riding a bike... his first time swimming in the ocean. He remembered his father teaching him to fish and he told me how he'd inherited his father's love of country music... because his mother certainly was not a fan. I laughed and smiled as he shared his memories. It was good to hear Matthew talk about seeing his father again in Heaven.

"There's one last thing," Matthew began as I stifled a small yawn behind the lens of the camera, another symptom of pregnancy I wished would go away, "I remember how sad we all were when dad died." I watched as his mind searched through it's file of painful memories and a small frown appeared on his face. "I don't want people to feel that way when I die."

I nodded at him and moved the camera slowly away, focusing momentarily on the photo of his family he always kept beside his bed. An older photo of a couple with a handsome 9-year-old son and an adorable baby girl. And then on the newer photo... just the three of them, their father missing. When I moved the camera back up I noticed that Matthew was staring at the photos too.

"That's hard to think about," he whispered as I watched a tear slowly trickle down his cheek and come to rest upon his chin for a moment before dripping off onto his blankets. "That I'm going to be the one missing now..."

I nodded my head in acknowledgement of his fear. It had to be a scary thing knowing you were going to be gone from a life you'd known forever and a family you loved dearly.

"I don't want them to be sad for me," he continued as he reached out and took hold of the newer photo. "I know how sad mom was... I don't want her to be that sad."

I wanted to stand and hug him but I knew it wasn't the right time. I wanted to pull him into a tight embrace and never let him go. I couldn't help but wonder how hard this all was for his mother. The woman who'd carried him for nine months and given birth to him and loved him unconditionally and who'd been here for him through everything he'd endured during his journey. Agonizing didn't seem a strong enough word for that kind of feeling.

"I want my mom and my sister to always remember that I love them," he said as his eyes slowly closed and he leaned his head back into his pillows. I could tell he was fading fast. He'd been up longer in that hour and a half than he'd been up in days. He sighed deeply and pulled the covers up under his chin. I took that as a sign that he was finished talking and started to take the camera down before he raised his hand in a halting gesture.

"One more thing," he whispered as he yawned and snuggled in deeper still... "I want everyone to know that they have to keep living. You don't die until you're dead... they can't give up on living just because I'm going to die."

I had to compose myself before I left his room. The tears fell steadily, my heart beat fast. "You don't die until you're dead"... it never ceased to amaze me the lessons I continuously learned from my youngest patients.