This morning, I was talking about Matt and his remarkable courage to take control of his healthcare when he was approaching the end of his life.
Here are a couple of things I wrote about him a few years ago. He was, as some would say, "a bloody good bloke."
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To Matthew Barrett, it seems like a thousand years have passed since he was a roustabout with Barnum & Bailey’s Blue Unit. Matt enjoyed the circus life, traveling from town to town, delivering jaw-dropping acts and ferocious animals to crowds drawn from the hamlets dotted along the rail lines snaking throughout the West.
It was a great job that provided Matt with a temporary escape from his relentless companion—a persistent companion that never grants him liberty or peace!
Now, Matt is looking down the road, preparing for what could be the greatest adventure of his life. About a year ago, he stopped taking 600 mg of morphine a day to find some relief from the pain in his head. Ever since, he has been living with unrelenting pain without respite. Instead, he has been using Blue Scorpion venom, which a friend recently brought back from Cuba.
Matt told me he can feel pain in his legs for the first time in ages. The pain in his head has loosened its grip just enough to allow him to feel signals from other parts of his body. Matt has a tumor the size of my hand clinging to his brain like a starfish, stretching from his left eye to the back of his neck. Both this tumor and a smaller one on the right side of his brain are inoperable. Is the venom having an effect on the tumor? It's too early to say.
At 47, Matt is now an expert on Basal Cell Nevus Syndrome, a condition that entered his life when he was just two years old. It is genetic and unforgiving!
Eleven cancers, four brain tumors, lymphoma, and bone cancer, as well as three types of skin cancer.
Imagine enduring 1,708 separate operations that only temporarily restrain the cancerous invaders! Operations that have so disfigured Matt that he looks as if he survived a horrific fire.
Most of the skin on his face has been replaced with skin from his forearms and legs. Facial features, bone lines, and teeth have been dramatically altered.
Matt tries to catch a few hours of sleep and peace with eyes that only close partway.
It’s hard to integrate that a man who has endured so many medical challenges, long spurts of homelessness, abject discrimination, and humiliation can face each morning full of hope and faith in the better nature of his fellow travelers.
Matt has spiritual faith that his walk has been for a purpose. He feels his role is, and has been, to educate people about the differences among us and how those differences actually tie us all together. He is generous with his time, volunteering to talk with anyone who will listen to his message of reaching out to the poor, the homeless, the sick, the lonely, and those abandoned by those who don’t understand.
Recently, Matt put together a book of poetry, “A View from the Street,” to share his feelings and raise income for Greater Seattle Cares, a non-profit that supports the homeless in Seattle Tent Cities with meals, clothing, and supplies.
His book is available on his blog, “A View from the Street.”
Matt lived in Seattle’s Tent City 3 for over three years. He still visits his friends there weekly even though he recently received subsidized housing.
When I asked Matt which poem he would like me to share in this little tale, he picked the following poem.
Your World in a Bag
For a homeless person who doesn’t have much
there are a few things about which we can brag
Especially when everything you wear, own and such
is summed up in your world in a bag
That’s how it is when you live on the street
you learn about the meaning of gratitude
For little thing like a jacket and shoes on your feet
when your world is in one bag, you have a different attitude
Carrying everything you won on your back
or pushing around a shopping cart filled with your stuff
This is when you know what it means to lack
and when the littlest thing is more than enough
This is what I’m trying to express
it isn’t a joke, a prank, or a gag
When you’re on the streets you live with less
and learn to appreciate your world in a bag.
The words speak to Matt’s acceptance of what he has been served in life. He didn’t ask for it and would have preferred to have skipped a lot of it, but knows that this is the way it is, and he can only try his best to be gentle with all that he has been handed.
In addition to his volunteering his time to help others facing homelessness and the challenges of being poor, he has shared the powerful story of his life with Seattle freelance photographer Ilona Berzups to produce “Walking with Giant.”
Matt’s story can be found on Ms. Berzups’ website.
When asked for a description of her photo essay, Ilona said, “Matt’s journey has been incredibly hard but inspirational. I’ve been able to capture a part of his journey visually, and I hope that it will be received with the sensitivity and care it deserves.” She continued, “I desire that his visual story will make others examine how they see and treat those who are different.”
Ilona’s incredible photographs are accompanied by a compelling essay sharing many of the hurdles Matt has faced while fending off the inevitable.
While sitting in a Starbucks with Matt, I could only wonder at the randomness of life. Why has Matt been given a life so full of pain and suffering when so many others seem so blessed with lives brimming with fulfilled expectations?
When I asked Matt if he had ever experienced anything we might define as a bit of normal life, he returned to his remembrances of the circus.
Matt, I hope that when your circus comes back to pick you up, you will join it with all the enthusiasm and grace you have shown those of us who will be waving to you as the train speeds down the tracks. Thank you.
If you would like to help Matt reach out to others, please visit his blog, buy his book, and toss a few bucks his way.
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Rather than having a memorial, after the inevitable, Matt Barrett agreed to have a celebration instead.It was held last night in the parish hall at St Joseph’s in Seattle.
The end is near for Matt.
Watch his longtime friend Brooke (video) tell one of many tales about how Matt has made the very best of a lousy hand.
See the following article sharing some background information on Matt.
I’ve Had a Great Run.
Matt has been a courageous role model for so many over the years. Invisible Disabilities.org recently recognized him for his generosity of spirit and his dedication to reaching out to the sick, lonely, homeless, and others in need of a kind word.
Here’s a little story.
Back when the circus hired Matt, one of his jobs required him to lead a grizzly out of the arena when the trainer gave him the high sign. This all went very smoothly until one day when the trainer got ill towards the end of the performance. What Matt didn’t know was the trainer always gave “Bruno” a couple of peanuts before turning and handing the lead to Matt. Well, the assistant trainer, worried about the other two bears, gave Matt the lead line to take Bruno out. He either didn’t know about the peanuts, or forgot due to the anxiety of the moment.
Bruno didn’t want to move.
Matt gently pulled on him.
Bruno struck out, leaving Matt’s left ear dangling by a thread of flesh.
When the dust settled and the bears and Matt were attended to, he was told that policy was that any animal that “attacked” an employee would have to be put down.
Matt sat there for a moment before replying, “Then I quit. If I don’t work here, there is no reason to punish Bruno for doing what comes naturally to a bear.”
Bruno lived.
Matt went on to new adventures.
We’ll all miss you, Matt.
